Page 42 of Untamed Protector

“No, I sort of designed it myself. It’s not finished yet. I’ve only moved in six months ago.”

“Yeah, everything looks new. I thought it was because you don’t come here very often.”

“That, too.”

Lexi’s busy grabbing the last of the salad leaves. But soon, she’ll have to look up and talk to me. I stand up to get an ice-cold bottle of water from the fridge, my go-to brain booster. Maybe it’ll help me navigate the uncharted territory of actually talking to her.

“You know, I’m not some porcelain trinket you have to keep from breaking. I’m used to taking care of myself. Always have,” she says in a defiant voice.

I freeze mid-step on my way back to the counter with the bottle in my hand. Where did that come from? It doesn’t matter; maybe that’s her way of breaking the ice.

“It’s just a guy thing. Being protective of women. But when you said you’ve always taken care of yourself… tell me more about that. You know pretty much everything about me already. I answered your questions on our way here and earlier today in Peter’s office. You can trust me, Lexi. I want us to work together.”

“I’d rather not talk about it and keep my private life private.”

“I get that. But until a few months ago, you were living in a small town where everyone knows everyone, so you must be used to people talking about you.”

“This ruined my childhood, you know. I couldn’t handle all the attention.”

“And why were they so interested in you?”

“People around me started fixating on my abilities. Remember what Peter said?”

I lean in, giving her my full attention with a silent nod.

“I have a special skill people envy me for. It’s my photographic memory. Every detail, every memory, is etched into my brain. But it’s only ever caused me pain, made people jealous, and brought unwanted attention and threats. My parents didn’t know what to do with me. For a long time, kids called me a freak or weirdo. It’s a nightmare I still live in. But I’m not a victim.”

Hearing her say that makes me see Lexi in an entirely new light. I suspected Peter was using her and her abilities shamelessly, and now the thought makes my blood boil. My clients rarely come to me clean. When they seek private security, it’s usually after shady dealings gone wrong. Rich embezzlers fleeing their partners, power-hungry politicians, or fame-obsessed artists willing to risk everything for a fleeting spotlight. All desperate, all hiding secrets.

But the cases we take on as Protectors are something else. They’re about everyday people facing extraordinary situations that can’t be fixed by following the rules. Watching her handle this mess, it’s hard not to be impressed. Here she is, facing down some unseen threat, and for someone so young… well, I know a thing or two about a rough start in life—Navy or not, the scars of being an orphan never fully fade.

Maybe it’s that shared understanding, the weight of a life that wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows, that hits me. The Navy turned me into a block of responsibility, a shield against the world’s crap. But seeing her facing this with such quiet strength… it twists something inside me. There’s no way I’m letting her fight this alone.

“I guess people ask you all the time why you’re not using your skills to make some extra money by gambling or counting cards, right?”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. That’s usually how people react when they find out what I can do. That’s why I prefer to keep this under wraps. It’s hard, but in this big city, I can blend in and try to find my place.”

“But you, Lexi, you’re far from ordinary. Your gifts are extraordinary, and there’s no shame or reason to feel bad about them.”

“Wow. It’s clear we grew up differently. My teachers used to tell me that a good memory doesn’t make me any smarter.”

“I’m sorry. That must’ve been tough for a kid.”

“Well, I guess I deserved it. I had this habit of memorizing the textbooks in the first few days of school and then calling out the teachers if they made mistakes during class. I used to embarrass my classmates by constantly proving I was better than them in every subject. I had no friends. Only Lena. She’s two years older than me and would beat the crap out of anyone who took a jab at me. You saw the legs on that woman—she’d put them to good use, getting into fights with other kids. She was the one who kicked ass for me in high school.”

“Why aren’t you in university now, getting ready for an academic career? I don’t know… studying science or math?”

“Getting a scholarship is hard. I taught myself for years using online quizzes and tests. I wanted to prove myself to those teachers who thought I wasn’t smart. Their pettiness only pushed me to work harder. I trained my brain to remember things, make connections, and understand when and where things happen.”

“Your official file says you went to university for a year and a few months into the second. What happened after that?”

“Did you look me up?”

“It’s a typical thing to do when I deal with clients. I gather intel on them from various sources.”

“You mean you think all your clients lie to you, so you investigate them?”

“That’s not why I do it. When people are personally involved, they tend to be biased. Clients often leave out information because they think it doesn’t matter. For me, it does—all of it. It helps me fill in the gaps in a plot with lots of holes.”

---