Page 25 of Protect Thy Enemy

“Understood, sir,” she says through gritted teeth, like words that tasted like charcoal.

I nod once, turning to leave before she can say anything else.

As I walk away, her tone lingers in my mind. It wasn’t resignation, no. It sounded like a challenge.

***

The sting in my knuckles hasn’t faded by the time I’m showered and dressed. The ache lingers, a reminder of the frustration I can't shake.

I tell myself it’s just the workout, the fallout from pushing too hard, but I know better.

I drive aimlessly, the city lights flashing past. My mind drifts, but it always returns to her. Williams. She’s stubborn and is already proven to be a pain in my ass. But there’s something else, something I can't put my finger on.

It’s like she’s constantly in my orbit, tugging at me whether I want her to or not.

Mostseasonedagents would cower in fear after a critique like that, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she doubled down, her chin lifting as if daring me to find another flaw.

It’s not arrogance. It’s a true hunger to prove she is where she’s meant to be. It reminds me of the first time I stood in my father’s office, his medals gleaming on the walls behind him.

He didn’t smile, and he didn’t congratulate me for graduating at the top of my class. He just handed me my assignment and said,“Don’t embarrass me.”

Part of my brain wonders if she’s carrying her own ghosts. If she’s trying to outrun someone.

While the other part is desperately trying to shake it off. Trying to ignore whatever it is pulling me closer to this woman.

When I pull up to my mom’s house, the warm glow of the setting sun eases some of the tension in my chest. It’s not Sunday, our usual night, but tonight, I need a change. I need something familiar.

She answers the door before I even knock, her smile soft and welcoming. “Holden, what a surprise.”

“Hey, Ma.” I press a kiss to her temple before stepping inside, the scent of home-cooked food immediately hitting me.

“Something smells good,” I say, raising an eyebrow.

“Just you tonight,” she says with a knowing smile.

“Had a feeling, huh?” I ask as I shrug off my jacket.

She nods like it’s no big deal. “You could say that.”

I settle into the familiar routine, sitting at the table as she sets a plate in front of me. I dig into the food, the quiet rhythm of her movements calming something inside me.

It’s different here, different from the cold, empty apartment I’ve been spending too much time in lately.

“So what’s going on with you?” she asks casually, though I can hear the concern in her voice.

I try to keep it light, stabbing a piece of chicken with my fork. “Work stuff.”

Her gaze sharpens. “You’ve always been a man of few words, Holden, but something’s bothering you. I can tell.”

I shift in my seat. She’s not wrong. There’s a lot on my mind, but it’s easier to keep it buried. Pretty sure I’d make a therapist question their degree.

“I’m fine, Ma.” I try to brush it off, but she’s still looking at me like she can see right through the walls I’ve built up.

“You don’t have to carry it all alone, you know,” she says quietly, almost like a warning. “I’m here. I always will be.”

I swallow, and the knot in my throat tightens. I can’t deal with this. Not now. Not when there’s so much I still haven’t figured out.

“Work’s been busy. That’s all,” I say. I don’t want to dive deeper into this. Into anything that feels too much.

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