kid.”
“That’s what Ghost wants, but he’s an asshole,” he said, dropping his voice. His brothers stood a short distance away, and he didn’t want them overhearing. “Please just leave.”
“You think I’ll screw it up.”
“I think it’s not worth risking you getting hurt.”
“Oh,” Elijah said, tone darkening. “So it was cool if one of my buddies got hurt, but not if I do.”
“That’s not what I meant–”
“I’m not asking someone else to do what I’m not willing to do myself. Not on the field, not in life. I’m helping you because you’ve helped me. And I’m gonna do it right.” He sounded like he wouldn’t be swayed.
Carter knew that Mercy could bundle him in a van and they could forcibly remove him from the op. But he had to admire the kid’s bravery and take-charge attitude. Even if fear sat sour on the back of his tongue, threatening his gag reflex.
He blew out a breath that did little to ease the pressure in his lungs. “Okay. Well. Okay. Just. Follow the plan. And the second shit goes sideways, hit the dirt and let us handle it. Okay?”
Elijah nodded, but rolled his eyes. “You worry too much, Coach.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Coach. It had a nice ring to it. Please don’t let anything happen to this kid.
He motioned for Elijah to follow him, and they joined the others.
~*~
The op was straightforward, and relied mostly on discretion and well-oiled teamwork. Silent communication. While important, Reese thought of it as low-risk. He’d been in much more dangerous situations – which was probably why he risked another glance to the neighboring tree to catch a glimpse of Tenny.
He’d been thinking a good bit – too much – about what Kris had said to him. About dating, and making friends, and exploring options. When Carter had initiated friendliness while they searched the mill property, he’d dug deep into his limited social repertoire and reciprocated. When he’d been assigned to go with Aidan and Tango today, he hadn’t felt disappointed; he’d been bold enough to speak up, and share his trap idea – even if Aidan was acting as if it was his own.
The idea of dating was still mind-boggling. But he’d Googled some stuff. Read a few articles.
But he kept feeling this tug, this urge to look, to get up and follow. He missed him. This was what missing someone felt like.
He’d never had anyone to miss before, but now he missed the kick of a boot against his own, and the elbow in his ribs. Missed insults, and dirty jokes he didn’t fully understand. And he missed lying side-by-side in the afterglow, smelling Tenny’s cigarette smoke, listening to his hesitant, halting ruminations on their new lives, all the things he never told anyone else.
He looked again, caught the faintest glimpse of Tenny’s profile amidst the shadowy leaves, and then forced his head away. He couldn’t be thinking about that. Couldn’t be distracted.
The op was playing out on high school property – the biggest risk was that of being spotted by local police and having the whole thing broken up. There was a spot down past the practice fields, the beginning of a nature walk, with a bench and a bower, a commemorative plaque of some sort, complete with soft landscape lights. That was where Carter’s student friend, Elijah stood now, shifting his weight, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets. Reese didn’t know if he was truly nervous, or acting that way, but it looked like a realistic teenage reaction to this situation nevertheless.
Dogs were stationed behind the bower, tucked down in the bushes, and elsewhere on the property as lookouts. Reese and Tenny had each found well-hidden perches in two trees that flanked the path leading up to the meeting spot, and would drop down to cut off the dealer’s escape route.
Reese’s legs had started to go numb, and the tree branches dug painfully into his spine. He took a deep, steadying, but silent breath, and retreated back into himself. No more worrying about Tenny, and their discontinued conversations. No body, no pains, no physical sensations. Only the op. The wait. Straining to listen, to scent, to see. He tamped down every unnecessary sense. A familiar process, but, strangely, no longer as easy as it had once been.
Finally, the hoot of an owl pierced the gathering night. The four-beat call of a barred owl.
Fox. Someone was coming.
A few minutes later, Reese heard the careful tread of rubber-soled shoes on the sidewalk. A huff of breath. When he glanced