Talon
Jake was slumped over his desk when I walked in, still looking like hell.
He glanced up as I shut the door behind me, his eyes bloodshot but sharp. “Who pissed in your Cheerios?” he asked, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
“Ran into Rook at the grocery store,” I said, my voice almost a growl. I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms. “Tryin’ to get his ribs broken.”
Jake’s expression darkened instantly. “What the f**k,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What’d he say?”
“Called Laura my flavor of the month,” I spat, the memory of Rook’s smug grin making my blood boil. “Tried to rattle me. You know how he is.”
Jake’s jaw clenched, and he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “He’s just pushing his boundaries,” he muttered. “Testing us. Seeing how f
