Page 122 of Whistleblower

All right, it’s official. My dog is pussy whipped.

“Eden’s in her office,” Cricket says to me. “She’s buried under a mountain of boxes.”

“Stay he—” I say to Mouse, then change my mind halfway through. “Cricket, tell Mouse to stay here.”

She laughs as I make my way down the hallway, headed to the office with the door that’s always open. I knock on the door frame, grabbing her attention first. No one blames her, but Eden’s still a little skittish these days. I’ve learned to announce myself before I enter a room.

“Hey, baby,” I say.

She whips around, her long hair fanning out before falling across her shoulders. “Hi, you. What’re you doing here so early? You should’ve slept in. You got home so late.”

I take a moment to admire her. I snuck in so late last night that she was already in bed, so it’s like I’m seeing her for the first time this morning. After nearly five months of knowing Eden, she still makes me catch my breath. She finally looks like herself again. Her face was bruised for weeks after what happened with Ravi. Luckily it was just hairline fractures in her cheek, so she didn’t need surgery. Her ribs were bruised, but not broken. Her busted lip healed quickly. And she smiled through her entire recovery because my girl is resilient as all hell—a fucking warrior.

Crossing the room, I wrap my arms around her and pull her small frame between my legs, as I lean against her new white, wooden desk. “I missed you, Precious.”

“This was a longer trip.”

“Five days.”

“Where’d you go?”

I grimace. “Italy.”

“Aw, come on!” she whines, pushing against my shoulder. “Not fair. I would’ve gone.”

“There wasn’t much leisure time.”

It was two full days traveling, almost two days waiting in an abandoned cathedral, twenty minutes gunning down a herd of Italian mobsters, and another day dumping bodies. I don’t think Eden would’ve enjoyed that vacation at all.

“Well, one day,” she says with a shrug.

“Next week,” I say determinedly.

“What?”

“Let’s go next week. Just you and me. We’ll get real Italian Margherita pizza and find that gelato shop your dad loved. What do you think?”

“Really?” Her smile is so big her teeth show. “You can just drop everything and go? What about work?”

I laugh. “I think I’m due for some vacation time. Or have you written that policy yet?”

She snorts. “For the last time, I’m not HR! My official title with PALADIN is organizational operations manager,” she says with a fake, fancy accent and a sarcastic roll of her wrist.

“What does that mean?”

She pops her shoulders cutely. “It means… I don’t know. Vesper just told me to purge this place of all things FBI, so that’s my current plight. Look,” she says pointing to the stacks of boxes in her office. “That’s new merch and new desks that need to be built. We’ve got new furniture being delivered. We’re converting some of the empty rooms into more offices. Vesper is trying to build a small army.”

“Did she tell you how she’s paying for this?” I wrap my hands around Eden’s hips, letting them wander across her backside.

“The FBI still has a generous budget for us. Let’s just say my silence was very expensive.”

Those found guilty were punished severely, and in my opinion, it still isn’t enough. Eden’s testimony buried Ravi, and Pierre Corky’s testimony sealed her fate. In exchange for Eden’s silence in the media, they promised full exoneration for Empress. In addition, the FBI let PALADIN keep the compound along with our independence while still funding our activities as long as Vesper stays at the helm.

A few months ago, I would’ve been thrilled to be relieved of Jeffrey Callen. Now, I’m glad he’s one of us. Officially abandoning the badge, Callen is second in command at PALADIN. I say that to be polite, but I still don’t listen to a goddamn thing he tells me to do.

They also promised the most severe punishment for Director Ravshervesky. She was stripped of her title, awards, and money, and was thrown into solitary confinement in a maximum-security prison. I don’t know which one, and it’s probably best that way. I close my eyes and still see Eden beaten and bruised and it’s enough to provoke the monster. If I ever cross paths with her again, only one of us will survive the encounter, I can promise that.

“So?” I ask. “Italy?”

---