CALLEN (Second Chance Novels Book 3) (3 page)

As I'm nearing the last page of her file, she comes in with two coffees. "You take yours black, right?"

She
has
been paying attention to detail. When I add the sum of my knowledge about her, I know I can't let her maintain all the power in the room and keep her respect. Balance is key to this interaction.

"Thank you," I smile as I take the coffee and set the open file on her desk, then take a tiny piece of control in her own office. "Please, have a seat," I offer.

Her only response is an amused smirk. She is completely aware of the point of my offer. I shouldn't think this way, but game on.
 

We spend the better part of an hour discussing her department. What started as a point-by-point analysis of her data turned into a discussion of the collective mental health of the inmates, and then onto that of the staff.

"Honestly, we could use an entire staff of counsellors. I have a heavy workload here. I manage the requirements, but there's so much more we could do. The rehabilitation side of punitive justice is often neglected. With more staff, we could affect a larger change."

"No money in the budget," I nod. "That's an issue in every department."

"Yes, it is," she agrees. "So I'm working with two local universities trying to institute an internship program to deal with the mental health of the staff and analysis of test results, which would free up my time significantly. So far one of the universities is amenable to offering course credit."

I work hard at toning-down how impressed I am with her. She's a problem solver rather than a whiner. She represents a complex point in my mission, but I appreciate the person she is.
 

"Thank you," I tell her as we close our session, standing as she does. "I'll get back with you if I have any questions."

"Of course," she responds. Her body stills for a moment as she stares at me again. I stop along with her, holding strong under her scrutiny. She tilts her head and regards me further before she speaks. "You're not what I expected."

I chuckle, and even though I'm dying to know her expectations and how I differ from them, I simply respond, "I'll assume that's a compliment."

She smiles enigmatically. "If you have time next week, I'd like to pick your brain over the internship program. I usually handle these things solo, but collaboration with someone of your experience may make for a nice change."

"My experience?"

"Studying people and behavior. It's obvious. Either way," she says, "I'd appreciate your insight."

"I'll make time," I nod, wondering if the request for more time was her way of flirting with me. Most likely she simply appreciates the insight I could offer. She keeps her demeanor so steady I can't tell, which makes her both a pain in the ass and completely impressive at the same time…as well as a possible threat. "Wednesday again?"

"I'll put it in my calendar," she says as she shakes my hand and glances quickly at my bruised knuckles. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."
 

For the next several days following my meeting with Quinn, I trail the spouse of our latest client until I finally catch him with his pants down. Literally. We get paid, the client will file for divorce, and I'm on to the next project. Needing a break from the irritation of such pettiness, I head to Second Chance on Monday evening, knowing the usual crowd will likely be there.

If Ledger is tending bar, Cam will be there smiling at him. I already know Mason will be there drooling over Sofia like a damn puppy dog, and if I'm lucky, Shelby will be there. She's been the only one to sit and listen to my grief evening after evening for the last two months. She's one of the best drinking buddies I've ever had.
 

Still, part of me hates seeing Shelby at the bar. She hides from everyone else, but I see how tortured she is while watching Mason so desperately in love with Sofia. When Shelby was dating Mason, he was leading her down the path of forever. When he cheated and left her, he devastated her more painfully than he realizes.

Part of me is so proud of Shelby for holding her head high and maintaining friendships with everyone in the group, but another part of me wants to wipe the bullshit smile off her face and force her to deal with her emotions. If she keeps herself bottled up much longer, she's going to have a nuclear-scale meltdown.

"I have good news," Mason calls over to me the minute I walk into the pub.

"Yeah?" I ask as Ledger pours me a beer. Cam is there grinning as I expected.

"We've been contracted for body guard services for the Russian Ballet next month. The Prima Ballerina is a bit of a diva and wants high-level protection while in town."

"Any specific threats?"

"Nope. Just babysitting. Since we're keeping steady with our current projects and Spades and Riggs offered their help a while back, I thought maybe we could get them in the rotation. They meet her 'high-level' requirements."

I smile genuinely at the thought of our business moving forward, and force myself not to grimace. The last time I saw those two was on the yacht they secured for Evelyn. "Want me to call?"

"Already did," he grins. "They should be here in an hour."

The evening flies by with good beer and easy conversation. Shelby and Sofia eventually come in, as well as another bartender who's part of the social group now.
 

Shelby stays near me as is her habit now. Having a caring friend in close proximity helps her hold herself together, but I wish she didn't have to. I've tried so many times to get her to open up and let go of some of her pain, but she refuses. She swears she's handling it, but we both know it isn't true. I give her the space she needs. At some point, however, the issue will have to be dealt with.

Shelby remains nearly silent the whole evening, though she smiles and interjects socially-appropriate responses during conversation. No one else notices her bullshit.
 

She needs to cut the act, because these people care about her and would help her out if she clued them in.

Mason, however, updates everyone on his own side-job. After what happened to Sofia, one culprit in her attacks has yet to be dealt with. Evelyn's bastard husband bought some thugs for the attack, but a local bank executive knowingly handled the purchase. That exec paid to have Sofia raped. Mason, of course, will not let such an injustice stand.

"Yeah," Mason continues. "I don't give a rat's ass if he testified against Bennett. He shouldn't have walked."

Sofia raised her glass in a toast and tossed back a shot.
 

"Total bastard," she confirms with strength. Her resilience after the attack astounds me. Her strength matches Masons, and she may exceed his level of tenacity.

"We're investigating his corruption even more," Mason explains to Jackson, the other bartender. "You wouldn't believe the evil this man has facilitated while keeping his own hands lily-fucking-white."

"More like green," Sofia scowls. "He lives a little higher than even a high-end bank CEO would."

"I just found an off-shore account of his," Mason tells us. "Oh, and Shelby—"

She looks over to him with a look of interest plastered over her difficulty with this sudden interaction.

"What's up?" she asks.

"I may need your hacking skills to
redistribute
this guy's money to some battered-women shelters across the country."

"Absolutely," Shelby agrees with a conspirator's smile. I know she's glad to help combat this banker's evil side, but working up-close with Mason on the project which already cost her the love of her life will tear away another piece of her already-tattered emotions.
 

I interject into their conversation to help Shelby with a change of subject. She doesn't need any more attention drawn to herself, no matter how much I wish she'd work through the mess in her head.
 

"What about the DA? Find anything on him?" I ask.

Sofia smiles naturally. "No. He remains solidly on our side."

"That's great," Ledger says in relief for them.
 

"Yep," Mason says while raising his glass. "To one less bastard in the world."

Everyone drinks to his toast, and I look forward to eliminating this world's bastard number one.

In spite of the dark pit in my gut from thinking of Evvie's ex, I can't help my smile. Riggs and Spades are on their way. The four of us are the only remaining members of the cohesive team I worked with for years. A family reunion may be exactly what I need right now. These other two men of our crew offered balance within our unit. I could certainly use that skill of theirs now.

Where Spades was straight-laced and even, Riggs was a laugh-riot and socially unpredictable.
 

"They're meeting us at Second Chance as soon as they get here," Mason says to me in the office today. "Be there before seven."

"Done," I grin. Mason nods and maintains his smile before a thoughtful expression drops his grin a single degree.

"I haven't seen them since I left."

"Won't be an issue. Brothers are brothers," I assure him. "I haven't seen them either."

Mason nods with a more relaxed smile. "Don't be late."

I shake my head at his enthusiasm. I couldn't be late if I wanted to. I'm ready to get out of my head for a few hours and reunite with the only family who's ever meant anything to me.
 

I'm at Second Chance by six that evening and I enjoy talking with Jackson until Mason gets to the bar at six-thirty. I can't imagine a better place for a reunion.

As I sit here with Ledger and Mason, I think again of the name of this bar. It seems everyone who comes in here needs the second chance the title offers. Ledger broke his old life of stuffy formality and law school. Mason found his new life here with Sofia. I found Evelyn. I hope Riggs and Spades find their way into a new life here, too.
 

Our work at Delta may offer them the stability they need to keep from roaming. I know exactly how empty that life is. None of us deserves that, and none of us should have put ourselves through it. I guess we all make stupid decisions once we're on our own.
 

"Tell me how Riggs got that nickname," Ledger asks as he pours another beer for Mason.
 

"You've seen Lethal Weapon, right?"

Ledger grins in understanding.

"Yep," I shake my head. "He's that crazy. His real name is Ted Stinson. Doesn't fit him at all."

Mason chuckles at some fond memory of Riggs and his reckless, brilliant place in our team.

"What about Spades??"

"The Ace of Spades," Mason chimes in. "That man could not be stopped in a poker game. He can read a tell like no one I've ever seen."

"True," I confirm. "He was the most steady and even of us, always keen. He kept us together in some pretty nasty shit...but always as the background guy. Still, hell of a poker player."

"Bastard made me poor," Mason grins as he shakes his head.
 

I smile and drain the last of my drink before the door of the bar catches my attention. The last two men of our original band of brothers walk through the door.

"RIIIIIIIGGS!" Mason hollers like a boxing announcer. "Followed...byyyyy…THE ACE OF SPAAAAAAADES!"

Riggs throws his hands up in mock victory and shadow-boxes his way to the bar. Spades casually strolls behind him as Mason jumps to tackle them. They hold strong and drop him after they catch his attempt. All of us chuckle as Mason wobbles until he stands firm. "You'll never knock me down," he grins.
 

"Junior, I love a challenge," Riggs grins wickedly.

"How about a beer instead?" Ledger calls over pointedly.

"Yeah, sorry," Mason grins. "We'll save the fight for later."

Ledger shakes his head with a smile, and all I can do is pull the men in front of me into a brotherly hug with a strong clap on each of their backs.
 

Instantly the four of us fall into our old routine as Ledger joins in easy conversation. Mason turns into the smiling, pestering younger brother he always was. Riggs has us rolling with stories of women and bar-fights. Spades stands among us and enjoys every story. He doesn't share much, of course, but clues us into his past year and a half in one basic statement.