She didn’t judge Dax. Didn’t judge Trip. But me?
“That was years ago.” I shrug. “Got upgraded. Not for good behavior.”
Her nose scrunches, just a flicker of movement, gone as soon as it comes.
It’s fucking cute.
“Zachs, don’t play with me. You were an inmate?”
The pink in her cheeks is gone now, her face carefully blank. Too blank.
I flick my name badge. “I’m a guard. Honorary, or some shit like that. But it looks real, right? No big restricted access stamp.”
Her fingers curl against the filing cabinet. “Dax knew?”
Shit.
She’s looking pissed again.
“It’s not a secret,” I say easily. “Everyone knows what I am.”
Killer.
“Does that change things?” My voice is lazy, light, but I’m watching her now. “For us, I mean?”
Her throat bobs in a swallow.
“I figured you knew.” I tilt my head, studying her. “You were here to look into the program. The one that put me in this uniform.”
She doesn’t move.
Doesn’t say a word.
And I have to wonder, what’s she really seeing when she looks at me now?
“They gave you a gun and…” Her head cocks to the side, eyes narrowing like she’s trying to see something in me she missed before.
Not gonna lie, that look? It does something for me.
“Fuck off, Zachs. Pull the files. Yours too,” she says.
She doesn’t believe me?
Fucking adorable.
I follow her toward the last drawer in the filing cabinets, where they keep the inmate records.
Am I going here? Shit yeah. Challenge accepted.
She turns to face me fully, crossing her arms. The way she squares her shoulders, the way her chin lifts just slightly in defiance, I love that. Love the fight in her.
“Fine. I’ll bite,” she says. “Hand it over. If you’re really an inmate, I’ll…”
I hold my file to my chest, feeling the weight of it. Damn, it’s big. “You’ll what?” I smirk. “Talk to me about what Dax suggested? Seriously talk about it? Get to know me?”
Her expression flickers, but she doesn’t back down.
That’s what I love about her. She doesn’t run.