Page 51 of Protect Thy Enemy

This was a mistake. A line crossed too closely.

Yet the ghost of her touch lingers, refusing to let me forget.

I feel another presence, but I know it isn’t her. It’s a more annoying one. Tate doesn’t say it, but I can feel his disapproval from across the room.

It’s in the way his jaw tenses, the way he leans back in the doorframe like he’s trying to bode his words.

He thinks I’m too hard on them. On her.

“You know, Holden,” he says finally, his tone low but pointed, “not every agent needs tough love to survive.”

I look at him, my expression blank. “And not every rookie has what it takes to survive without it.”

Tate shakes his head, his frustration barely contained. “You don’t even see it, do you? The way she looks at you. She’s not afraid of failing any mission. She’s afraid of failingyou.”

His words hit harder than I expect, but I don’t let it show. I know he means well, he always does, but this is why I handle the rookies.

Tate’s strength is his heart, and mine? Mine is knowing how to shut mine off.

Chapter Seventeen

Holden

The room feels suffocating, not because of the space but because of the reality of what’s about to happen. I don’t like a single fucking bit of it.

Harris sits at the head of the table, speaking with his usual clipped efficiency, while Williams keeps her attention fixed on the file in front of her.

The light catches on her hair as she leans forward slightly, flipping through the pages with an almost practiced calm. It’s all calculated, I realize. Every glance, every shift of her posture, is a performance meant to convince everyone in this room that she’s ready.

But I’m not buying it. Though, I’ll admit she's good at hiding it.

My focus should be on the details he’s explaining—logistics, objectives, contingencies—but instead, my eyes linger on her.

“Grant.” Harris’s voice cuts through my thoughts, sharp and expectant.

I push off the wall, stepping into the room. “Sir?”

“You’re running point on this,” he says, his gaze locking onto mine. “You got anything to add?”

I glance at the file in front of Williams, then back at Harris. “You’re sending her undercover?”

“She’s ready.”

I scoff, the sound loud enough to turn a few heads. But it’s only the three of us. Williams doesn’t look at me, but I can see the subtle tightening of her jaw and the way her fingers curl against the edge of the file.

“She’s been here all of five minutes,” I warn. “This isn’t a training exercise. You put someone in the field too soon, and they get killed.”

“And if I waited until you thought she was ready, she’d never leave this building.” Harris’s tone is clipped, his patience thinning. “She’ll have backup.”

“She’ll have me,” I correct, my gaze flicking to her for a fraction of a second before returning to Harris.

“Exactly.” Harris’s smirk is faint but pointed. He knows exactly what he’s doing, which only fuels the tension in my chest. “You’re one of the best agents we have. If anyone can ensure she comes out of this alive, it’s you.”

The responsibility of his words sits heavy on my shoulders, and I grind my teeth, swallowing the retort burning the back of my throat.

“Fine,” I say, the word like gravel in my mouth. “But the second it goes south, I’m pulling her.”

Harris doesn’t reply. He doesn’t have to. The decision’s already been made, and we both know it.

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