Page 42 of Protect Thy Enemy

And Beckett, of course, is eating it up.

He’s leaned back in his chair, one arm slung across the backrest as he says something I can’t hear.

Whatever it is, it earns him another smile. Not a full one, but enough. It’s small, faint, and not meant to mean anything. But I hate it anyway.

My fists tighten at my sides.

I have no right to feel this way. None. She’s not mine. Hell, half the time, we barely tolerate each other, and I’m fine with that.

I’ve told myself I am. But seeing her like this, comfortable and at ease withhim, is a different kind of hell.

Beckett catches something in her expression and leans forward, gesturing with his hand as he talks. The way he looks at her, like she’s a mark and he’s already figured out a way to execute, makes my jaw clench.

He’s always had this way of inching too close to the line. It’s like he enjoys testing limits. Like he enjoys pissing me off.

We go back—me, him, Tate but that history feels distant now, overshadowed by all the shit that came after. Beckett’s been competing with me for years for everything. Promotions, respect, trust. And when I thought he couldn’t take more, he went after Sydney. My ex.

I’ve been looking for an excuse to hit him ever since. But right now, I don’t need one.

Williams shifts slightly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. Her gaze flickers toward the doorway, and the moment her eyes meet mine, something shifts. The light in her expression dims, the faint trace of a smile disappearing like smoke.

Her back straightens, shoulders snapping into their usual posture as her walls slam back into place.

Good. That’s how it’s supposed to be. Professional. Distant. Unaffected.

But I saw the difference. Saw what it looks like when she isn’t wound so tight or bracing for something. And I can’t unsee it.

“Everything okay?” Tate’s voice breaks through the haze. He’s behind me, his tone laced with that usual edge of amusement he gets when he knows I’m on edge.

“Fine,” I grit out.

Tate chuckles softly, stepping around me. He glances at Arden and Beckett, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a smirk, but it’s forced. “They sure look cozy,” he murmurs under his breath, low enough that only I hear.

I ignore him.

Williams focuses on her sandwich now, her fingers steady as she tears off a small piece and pops it into her mouth. Beckett leans back again, clearly enjoying himself, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she doesn’t care. Either way, it doesn’t sit right with me.

I force my gaze away, dragging myself back to reality. We have work to do, and I’m not about to let her, or him, distract me from it.

“Let’s go,” I say to Tate, my voice sharper than I intended. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push. He knows better.

As we move toward Nerd Hall, I glance back one last time. She hasn’t looked up again, but I catch Beckett watching me, his lips twitching into something between a smirk and a dare.

The urge to break his nose is almost overwhelming.

But I turn away and keep walking, pushing the thought of her, ofthem, out of my mind. Or at least, I try.

The night agent’s station is buried in a mess of tech and surveillance feeds. The room is dimly lit, screens casting a blue glow, and the agent on duty barely looks up when we walk in.

“Got something for you,” he says without missing a beat. “Undercover agent made contact a few minutes ago. They’ve picked up chatter about a potential attempt on President Carter.”

I exchange a look with Tate, my pulse already quickening. “Details?” I ask, stepping closer, trying to keep my tone steady.

The agent pulls up a message on his screen. “Nothing solid. It’s vague, but something about it is off. They bypassed the normal channels. And instead of going through the usual route, they insisted the information be relayed directly to Agent Harris.”

I narrow my eyes, that knot tightening in my stomach. “Harris?” That doesn’t make sense. “Why him?”

The night agent shakes his head, clearly as puzzled as I am. “No idea. But they were adamant. Said it had to go to him and him only.”

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