Page 42 of Doozer

“Yes, of course,” Doctor Fenton said warmly. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever been more uncomfortable in my life,” I said with a nervous laugh.

“Believe it or not, I too was once a fresh-faced recruit like you. There were even fewer female students in the academy back then and I was terrified my first day here. My first month, if I’m being honest. But soon enough, I felt like I’d been born and raised here.”

“What changed?

“I lost an eye and the hearing in my right ear during a training accident,” Doctor Fenton replied casually.

“What?”

“Yup,” she said, removing her glasses and pulling her long blonde hair back to reveal a scar running from her ear to the corner of her eye. “This one’s glass,” she said pointing to her right eye.

“Holy shit,” I blurted out. “I’m sorry, I—”

“That’s okay,” she said, shrugging. “If the accident had never happened, I’d be a field agent instead of a therapist, and I wouldn’t trade what I do for the world.”

“Can I ask what happened?” I asked.

“I took some friendly fire in Hogan’s Alley,” Doctor Fenton said, putting her glasses back on. She was stunning. Even with the scar, which was barely visible, especially behind her hair and glasses.

“Where’s Hogan’s Alley?”

Dr. Fenton smiled. “Hogan’s Alley is one of our facilities here at Quantico. It’s our very own small town within a small town. We use it for field training purposes. We can simulate everything from car chases to hostage situations. It was during one of those exercises that a fellow classmate discharged his weapon in close quarters. The slug ricocheted off the floor and struck me in the face.”

“Oh, my God.”

“I was lucky to be alive, but no longer fit for field duty after that, so I switched gears and studied to become a counselor for the bureau.”

“And now you’re the head of the entire department?”

“That’s right.”

“Do you ever wish you were a field agent?”

“I used to, in the beginning. But I love what I do more than anything and can’t imagine doing anything else now.”

“Wow,” I said, now in complete awe of this beautiful blonde bombshell badass.

She leaned forward, seeming genuinely interested in what I had to say. “What about you? What’s your superhero origin story?”

“I’m definitely not a superhero,” I said.

“You certainly have a cool superhero name,” she said. “How about we start with that? Did your club give you the name?”

I nodded. “Cowboy. The president of the first club I rode with, Bikers for Kids.”

“Bikers for Kids?”

“It’s a charity club that raises money and awareness to prevent the cycle of child abuse and neglect,” I replied.

“It sounds like you’ve said that a few times before,” Dr. Fenton smiled.

“You learn to let those words come out quickly and easily when dealing with the public. People have a hard time trusting bikers, but if they know you work with kids, they relax a little bit.”

“What type of work did you do with Bikers for Kids?”

“Toy drives, in-person visits, fundraising. Stuff like that.”