Whistleblower (PALADIN Book 1)

What the fuck just came out of my mouth?

I’ll tell you whatever you want to know?

What is wrong with me? I promised myself I wouldn’t lie again, but now… I might have to, because there are some things Eden absolutely cannot know about me.

She’d run…then, hide.

Eden does as instructed and closes her office door. Her breathing is loud and shallow. We’re being professional and coy, but I can’t imagine she’s forgotten my deceptive first introduction. It’d be nice if we could side-step it. I’d rather focus on the way she blushes every time I look at her.

After grabbing a pad of paper and a pen, she settles in the chair across from me. Eden looks near me, but not at me. It’s when we make eye contact that she seems the most disoriented. Apparently, she’s avoiding the distraction.

Eden clears her throat as she tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ear—the only piece that’s come free of the twisted bun sitting on the nape of her neck. If she thinks I’m not watching…studying…learning, she’s sorely mistaken. At the moment, I’m letting myself get lost in this new obsession.

“I used to conduct these interviews mostly as a way to give employees an opportunity to explain their grievances and to come up with solutions. Do you remember the triangle?” She pauses and waits for me to nod. “This is a way to let team members know they’re heard.”

“You say ‘team members’ a lot.”

“I do,” she says. “It sounds less condescending than ‘employee’ or ‘subordinate.’ Who wants to feel like property? ‘Team member’ says that they matter, that they are part of something bigger.”

“Is this what you studied for your doctorate? How to get people to feel good about wasting away in offices?”

“Something like that.” She chuckles softly but I don’t think she finds it funny. “But hey, I’m supposed to be asking you questions.”

“Okay.” I hold up my palms. “Ask away.”

A clever smile crosses her face. “How in the world do you balance a full-time career as an assassin, and still moonlight as a janitor?” Her eyebrows arch.

Fuck. Okay, I’m not off the hook.

“I’m sorry, I sort of misled you—”

“Lied,” she interrupts. “Lied is the word you’re looking for.” Her tone isn’t exactly calm, but she doesn’t seem too angry, so I try to explain.

I blow out a short breath. “You seemed startled when you saw me that night. I wasn’t sure what you already knew, but I didn’t want you to be scared of me.”

“Why would I be scared of you?”

“You were alone, in the middle of the night, with a stranger. You said you hated guns and the people who carried them. Look at how you reacted when you saw that photo. You’re…” I want to say precious, but that sounds too forward, too fast, so I settle for, “jumpy,” and immediately regret it.

“Jumpy?” She drops her jaw, clearly offended.

“Sorry, I mean…sensitive?”

Her open palm finds her forehead with an audible smack. “You’re not supposed to say that to a woman in the workplace—it’s a microaggression.”

I groan. “See? That’s why I lied. Talking was easier when I was a janitor.”

She throws her head back in laughter. “Fair point. All right, I’ll stop giving you a hard time now, I’ll ask you the actual questions.” She clicks her pen against the pad and gives me an earnest smile. “If you need to pass on any of these, that’s fine. No pressure.”

I nod. Just ask.

“What’s your real name?”

Fuck, that was fast. It’d be nice to tell her that I didn’t lie about my name the first time we met, but I really don’t want her poking around the name Chandler Janey. According to the obituaries, he died at sixteen. “Pass. I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay—”

“It’s not personal. I’ve been Lincoln for so long that in every way that matters, it’s my real name.”

“That’s fine. As I said, there’s no pressure—”

“Ask me another, please.”

“Okay, how old are you?”

“Twenty-eight. You?”

“How old do I look?”

I scoot forward to the edge of the couch. Just another inch or so and our knees would touch. “I’m not an idiot. I am not answering that question. That’s a trap if I’ve ever seen one.”

Her cheeks bunch in my favorite way and her lips curl into an unguarded smile that reminds me of the first night we met. “You’re smart, Linc. I’m twenty-nine.”

“That’s a little young for a doctor with all your accolades.”

“For a medical doctor, perhaps. But not necessarily for a Ph.D. I went right from my undergrad to a doctoral program. I kept my grades up so they allowed me to fast track.”

She’s driven—smart—and should not be cooped in this dungeon that the rest of us now call headquarters.

“So, what exactly is—”

She holds up her palm and closes her eyes briefly. “Who is interviewing whom here, Linc?”

Snickering, I offer her a compromise. “How about a question for a question?”

“Hm,” she says, trying to reel in her wide smile. “Okay, but let’s make it more interesting. Two passes each—max. But I’ll forgive the first one you gave.”

“Deal.”

“Ladies first.”

She draws in a deep breath. “The prisoner who was still alive in that photo… Did you make it in time? Did you save his life?”

I see the painful trepidation in her eyes. Ah fuck.

“Pass.” Her hopeful expression falls, replacing her sweet smile with a half-hearted scowl. “Eden, I know what it must look like, but those men weren’t exactly innocent. The brutality they faced… They’d done much of the same to others. These are insurgents fighting against each other—they deserved what was coming. The FBI’s main concern was the fact that it happened on U.S. soil.” Among other things…but Eden is on a need-to-know basis and I’ve already said too much.

“Linc, let me make this clear.” Her soft, kind eyes narrow. She almost looks intimidating. “No human being should be treated that way. I don’t care if they’ve done worse, rightful consequence is different from cruel vengeance. They didn’t deserve anything. Someone has to break the cycle. The most intelligent philosophers in history already warned us that fighting fire with fire means the entire world will burn.”

My heartbeat slows to the point I can inhale and exhale between the beats. A flood of adrenaline washes through me, but it decelerates everything instead of quickening it. What is this?

Is this…shame?

I’ve killed so many men who deserved to die, and yet this, almost, stranger sits in front of me, rocking the entire foundation of my existence. Am I helping or merely contributing to the fire?

“My turn,” I say with an exhale. “Who is Jorey?”

“Pardon?”

“Jorey Abbott. He, or she, was on your answer sheet for the icebreaker game.”

“You drew mine?” I nod in response and she continues, “Jorey is my dad.”

“You only wrote down two answers. The assignment required three.” I hold up my pinky, ring, and middle finger together.

She rolls her eyes so quickly, I almost miss it. “If I could talk to anyone, especially about the past year of my life, it’d be my dad, who passed away. And I put down War and Peace for my ‘something fun,’ because it’s the book I promised him I’d read, but never got around to. If I’m being completely honest, I mostly like Chick Lit in my free time, but now that Dad’s gone, I really wish I would’ve made time to read the damn thing. He would’ve loved to talk about it together. Now, we can’t.”

I have the urge to reach out and touch her, to comfort her, but I stuff it down. Instead, I scoot back into the couch, letting the plastic-feeling cushion mold to my back. “What is Chick Lit?”

She cocks her head to the side. “You know…like women’s fiction…for women. It’s…uh… books for women…about women.” She’s flustered as she tries to explain herself and I think I know why.

“Ah, you mean romance books.”

“Sometimes.”

“Girl on girl?”

“What?” She balks and I widen my eyes in surprise.

“You just said books for women, about women.”

She’s blushing wildly, lighting up her entire face. I’m almost hoping for a flirty shriek, or a suggestive joke, but instead, Eden lobs her pen at my head. I dodge just in the nick of time.

“That almost hit me,” I say, laughing.

“I realize,” she says, giggling right back. “I meant fiction along the lines of women’s coming-of-age stories. Stories about adolescence to adulthood, learning life lessons, overcoming impossible situations, and learning to stand on their own two feet. Not lesbian porn, if that’s what you were insinuating.”

“I wasn’t.” I absolutely was. “But, anyway, you didn’t complete the assignment. What makes you feel safe?”

Her humorous expression sobers and her eyes drop to her lap. “Jorey for both. The person I want to talk to and the person who makes me feel safe.”

“But you said he passed away?”

She nods curtly but then turns her head to the door as if she hears someone knocking. It’s just for show, no one’s there, but her eyes are starting to glisten. I’m quickly learning Eden likes to hide her vulnerability. When she’s satisfied that she’s composed, she turns her head and locks onto my stare.

“I haven’t felt safe for years, Linc. Not since he died, and especially not in the past year.”

“Why?” I ask as if I don’t already know the answer, thanks to Lance and his snooping.

“It’s my turn for a question. You just asked three in a row.”

“Fine.”

She waits so long that I’m tempted to fill the silence myself, but right as I open my mouth, she says, “Did you think less of me because of how I reacted to those photos?”

Twice now, she’s caught me off guard with these pointed questions. “Did I think less of you because you were disturbed by a very disturbing scene that wasn’t meant for your eyes?”

“I could forgive my initial shock, but it’s been weeks…I still see it when I close my eyes.” She clamps her lids shut like she’s testing the theory, then quickly opens them again. “A picture shook me. How do you sleep at night seeing that in person?”

Truthfully…it’s getting harder to. “I’ve seen it for over a decade, not much surprises me anymore.”

She inhales deeply then lets out a hurried sentence with her breath. “You were right. I was scared when I saw you that night. Had I known who you were, I would’ve bolted. I’m glad you lied.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Because we were able to have a conversation. Now…” She cocks her head to the side and her lips relax into a soft smile. “I’m not as intimidated to talk to you.”

Good. Relax. You’re safe with me. “I am sorry though. I’m a lot of things, but not usually a liar. And I promise I won’t lie to you again so…”

“So, what?” she asks in a whisper, her eyes still transfixed on mine.

“Be careful what you ask me.”

“Okay,” she says, her eyes dropping to my lips. I know she doesn’t see me noticing—Eden seems to be caught in a little daze, her eyes glazing over. It’s obvious what happens next when a woman looks at you like this…

I’m curious enough to test the waters.

I scoot forward again on the couch then reach out and touch her knee. She flinches before she stills and sucks in her lips.

“You owe me an odd compliment by the way. It’s still two to one.”

“That I do,” she says, her voice cracking.

“But nothing physical.” I pump my brows at her once.

She’s quiet, so I let my hand trail just an inch higher. The material of her pants is so thin, I can feel the warmth of her leg.

“I like that…” She clears her throat to no avail. Her words still come out raspy. “It’s just, you seem to feel bad about what you do.”

Her statement takes me off guard. “I didn’t say that.”

“I know,” she says. “But you have this…presence.” She borrows my word from the other night. “Like you don’t enjoy killing. It’s nice.”

I watch her big, brown eyes grow wide again, like she’s worried she overstepped, but I’m not offended. It’s just uncomfortable when someone stares right into your soul. “An odd compliment indeed. Now we’re even.”

“Not quite,” she says. “I owe you a lie too.”

I let out a breathy laugh as I stare at her plump lips. If only I could taste them. I move in a little closer, my hand inches up her thigh…I’m so fucking tempted.

“Okay. Lie to me.”

“I don’t think about you. I’d very much like you to remove your hand from my leg, and I most definitely don’t want you to kiss me.”

Her eyes are steady. She’s not smiling, but her lips are slightly parted as she breathes through her mouth. If there was ever a green light—this was it. I could kiss her right now. I could do more…right behind this office door. I would ruin her for every other man after me. But the dangerous thing is I don’t just want to fuck her…

I want to kiss her.

And not just as a means to an end…

I really want to kiss her.

Suddenly, I’m extremely uncomfortable. Every warning flag is waving. Every alarm is ringing in my mind. This feels very out of control and I don’t like it.

Using her leg as leverage, I rise. “I’m sorry. I should get back to work,” I force out, reluctantly. This is new. I need some time to get my bearings. I knew I was attracted to Eden. I didn’t know I wanted…

I don’t know. What is this? More?

Her light brown eyes are wide and startled. The wounded expression on her face tells me she’s interpreting this as rejection.

If only she knew.

“Okay. Um…” She blows out a shaky breath. “I’ll see you around.”