Page 26 of Protect Thy Enemy

She sighs, but it’s not out of frustration. It’s that tired, knowing sigh she’s always had, the one that lets me know my bullshit does not fool her. “I just don’t want you to get so lost in it all, Holden. Don’t forget to take a break.”

I don’t respond at first because I don’t know how to explain that everything’s harder than it looks. That no matter how manybreaks I take, the tension won’t go away. Not when it’s always there, always just under the surface.

“You’re allowed to be more than what you do,” she adds softly. “You’re like your father, married to your work just like him. I don’t want that for you, Holden. I really don’t. I want you to be able to settle down and start a family.”

I lean back in my chair, my jaw tight, as I look down at my plate. The familiar ache in my chest is still there, but now it’s mixed with something else: guilt.

I should be the one looking out for her. But it’s hard when I can’t even take care of myself.

“I know,” I say quietly. “I hear you, Ma.”

We eat in silence for a while, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

Before I leave, she stops me at the door, pulling me into a tight hug. “I love you, Holden. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Yeah,” I mumble, hugging her back. “I love you too. I’ll see you Sunday.”

I step out into the cool night, my mind already racing again. I can’t shake the thoughts of her. No matter how hard I try to shut it out, she keeps finding a way in.

But I can’t think about that now. I need to focus.

On the job.

On figuring out what happened to her father.

On what’s ahead.

And as I get in the car and drive away, I don’t look back.

Chapter Nine

Arden

“Agent Williams.”

Two words. That’s all it takes for the hairs to stand up on the back of my neck.

I blame that stupid voice—low and gravelly but somehow still smooth like a blade hidden in velvet.

I turn to find Grant standing just a few feet away, his hands in the pockets of his suit, his gaze locked on me with unsettling intensity.

“Sir?” I say, keeping my tone neutral, though I know it won’t matter. Neutral doesn’t work with Grant.

His eyes flick to the agents nearby, then back to me. “My office. Now.”

Whatever happened to,Hi. Hello. How are you?It’s not that I expect him to spare me any pleasantries, but all he knows how to do is bark at me like a caveman.

I pause, not because I’m afraid, but because the last time I was in his office, the air practically crackled with his very obvious disapproval. And if his tone is any indication, this won’t be any different.

He’s definitely not inviting me to a secret party in his office. That’s for sure.

“Yes, sir,” I say, matching his clipped tone as I follow him. The hallway always feels too small with him in it, and I can’t help the fleeting thought that he knows exactly how to make people feel caged.

His office is the same as the last time—bare, boring, and devoid of any personality. Just the scent of coffee and a sense of order. I doubt the man has a pen out of place.

He gestures for me to come in, then closes the door with a soft click. The sound seems louder in the quiet.

I stay near the door, keeping the desk between us like a buffer. “Is something wrong?” I ask, forcing my voice to stay even.

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