Page 27 of Protect Thy Enemy

Grant doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he steps toward the desk, leaning against its edge. His arms cross over his chest, and the way his sleeves pull tight against his forearms is the kind of thing I shouldn’t notice.

“Your performance in today’s simulation,” he says, his gaze cutting through me, “was passable.”

I blink. Passable. Nowthatis the closest thing to a compliment I’ll ever get from him.

“But,” he continues, and there it is. That cold robolike edge that always follows. “You hesitated. Again.”

My stomach twists, but I don’t let it show. I won’t give him the satisfaction. “I thought hesitation was better than making the wrong call.”

“It’s not,” he says flatly. “You freezing up will get people killed. You don’t have the luxury of second-guessing yourself out there. Every second matters.”

His tone confirms everything I already know. He doesn’t think I’m good enough. But I try not to let the words get to me. Squaring my shoulders, I say firmly, “I made the right call.”

“Eventually,” he counters, his tone as sharp as the line of his jaw. “You need to learn to trust your instincts and act on them, Williams.”

“I do trust them,” I snap, the heat rising before I can pull it back. “But I think too. Isn’t that what makes a good agent?”

His eyes narrow, the faintest flicker of something unrecognizable passing through them before it’s gone. He doesn’t answer immediately, and the silence stretches just long enough to make me regret my outburst.

“You remind me of someone,” he says finally, his voice lower but no less intense.

The admission catches me off guard but not the topic. I had a feeling it was something along those lines. I could see it in the way some people here do a double take whenever they see me. At first, I thought it was a race or even a gender thing, but it’s clearly something more. “Let me guess, someone who hesitated?” I ask, choosing my words carefully.

“No,” he says, his gaze hardening. “Someone who thought they could carry it all. Alone.”

His tone is different now, stricken with something I can’t place. And that stupid pull draws me in even though it’s the last thing I want.

“And what happened to them?” My voice comes out softer.

I watch as his eyes darken, the air between us growing thick. “They learned the hard way they couldn’t.”

The silence that follows presses against me, and for a fleeting moment, I see something in him. Something raw and humanbeneath the controlled exterior. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.

“I’m not them,” I say, my voice steady, though a feeling of indignation spreads in my chest.

I don’t want to be compared to them. To anyone.

His gaze searches mine, and its intensity makes me want to look away, but I don’t. I won’t.

“Prove it,” he says, the challenge hanging in the air between us.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tired of hearing those words.

But with Grant, it always brings a different emotion in me. Paired with the normal irritation and defiance, it sparks something deeper. Something I refuse to name. “I will.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. He just watches me like he’s waiting for something. Then, with a sharp nod, he pushes off the desk and gestures toward the door.

“You’re dismissed,” he says, his tone clipped again.

I turn without another word, stepping out of the office and into the hallway. But even as I walk away, his gaze lingers, burning into my back.

***

Luna’s cherry-scented candles linger in the air like a warm hug.

“Honey, I’m home,” I call out as I drop my bag by the door and kick off my boots before padding toward the kitchen. A glass of water wouldn’t fix the mess that was today, but it was a start.

Especially since my throat has been dry since I left Agent Grant’s office.

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