Page 14 of Protect Thy Enemy

The same asset who got me into this mess. Leave it to Leo O'Malley to fuck with me from the grave. The old bastard was as good as they came, but if it wasn’t for him and his urge to play martyr, I’d still be taking active missions, not training rookies who didn’t know their ass from their head.

And now, I’m stuck with his daughter. Who has that same fiery look in her eyes as he did.

I bet he’s up there laughing his ass off.

Harris doesn’t even glance at me. “That wasn’t a question, Agent Grant. I chose them for a reason, and you’re going to prepare them.” His sharp tone leaves no room for argument.

The corner of my mouth twitches in irritation. “With all due respect—”

“Don’t,” he cuts in, his voice cold. “You know why you’re here, and you know what you owe me. This isn’t up for debate.Don’tmake me come collect.”

With that, Harris leaves, his point made. Threat clear.

But I still don’t fucking like it.

The door closes behind me, and the room falls silent as I step deeper into the room. I can feel her presence, a tug I can’t explain, and it sets my teeth on edge.

Harris leads the debrief and I let my focus drift back to Williams. She’s seated next to Park, her posture ramrod straight, eyes fixed ahead like she’s trying to disappear into the background.

Not a chance.

Corbin shifts in his seat again, his gaze sliding back to her. I feel the irritation build, deep and hot. It’s not about her. It’s about what I don’t tolerate in this room, or anywhere else.

Harris wraps up his spiel, and the agents begin to filter out. I don’t wait for the others to leave before I move. I’m across the room in seconds, intercepting Williams just as she reaches the door.

She freezes, her eyes flashing with something I can’t quite read—alarm, irritation, maybe both. I expect a retort, but she doesn’t argue. She just falls into step beside me as we head down the hall.

The walk to my office is tense, her silence louder than it should be. I glance at her briefly, noting the tight line of her jaw and the stiffness in her shoulders. Something’s off. It’s not Corbin. It’s something else.

When we reach my office, I push the door open and gesture for her to enter. She steps inside, and I follow, shutting the door behind us.

“Agent Williams.” I lean back against my desk, arms crossed. My tone is steady but edged. “Let me be direct. Being late during your probationary period? Not exactly the impression you want to make. I hope your skills aren’t as lackluster as your punctuality.”

Her jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think she’s going to snap back. I almost want her to. Her father would have. But instead,she deflates, the tension in her frame easing just enough to feel like a loss.

“It won’t happen again,” she says, her voice even.

“It shouldn’t have happened at all,” I reply, my tone colder than I intended. “This job doesn’t leave room for mistakes or excuses.”

Her lips press into a thin line, and she nods. “Understood, sir.”

I should leave it at that and let her sit with the reprimand. But the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“Harris sees something in you. I hope, for your sake, he’s not wrong.”

She nods again, her expression unreadable. It grates on me, the way she doesn’t fight back. I expected fire. Defiance. Something. But all I’m met with is this infuriating calm.

“Is that all, sir?” she asks, her tone clipped.

“Yes,” I say, though it’s not.

“Thank you, sir.”

She turns, her steps measured, but the slam of the door behind her betrays the storm she’s holding in.

I exhale sharply, running a hand through my hair as I sit down. There’s a weight in my chest that won’t settle, an itch I can’t scratch. It’s not just her lateness, not just her silence.

It’s her.

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