Page 17 of Give Me Redemption

“Okay, Mom. I’m pulling up to work now. Love you. Talk later.” I hang up as the light turns green. She talked to Davy? What the hell?

I sigh and round the block, pulling up to the gate. I grab my card and swipe it over the scanner. The gate opens and I pull into the parking garage connected to the tall building that is my place of work. I’ve been an FBI agent for ten years and I still love every minute of it.

Know why?

Because I find psychos and bury their asses. People who take children, who rape women, and break the law. We have rules for a reason. It keeps things balanced in this fucked-up world and I’m here to make sure that happens.

I get out of my car. Adjusting my gun on my hip, I walk to the elevators and head up. I slide my shades onto my head, slipping my phone out of my pocket to check my email.

The elevator flies up before coming to a stop. I step out, putting my phone back into my pocket. The rose gold floor shines from Marco, the janitor, who’s on his wax machine.

“Harlow,” he says, shutting the thing off. “Did you see the Braves won ten to nothing?” he replies with a grin.

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“That’s five in a row now,” he says. “Now I’m not a gambling man, but I bet you they’re going to do it this year.”

“Let’s hope so,” I say with a smile.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says. “You have a good day now.”

“You too,” I reply, removing my shades from my head and sliding them into the top of my blouse. I head to the other set of elevators that will take me to our offices.

The doors start to shut, just as someone puts a folder between them. They open back up and I groan internally when Jim Miller comes into view.

“Dalton,” he says with a nod.

“Miller,” I reply, unenthused. He’s the office whore. He’s slept with half the building. It’s not only disgusting, it’s annoying.

Fuck who you want, but leave it outside of the workplace. He’s got women crying over him for heaven’s sake, and some of them are married.

The doors slide shut and we’re alone, and it’s going to be the longest elevator ride of my life.

“So, what are your plans this weekend?” he asks.

I play with my watch and look ahead because his mustache creeps me out. “Same as always. Watching the game, drinking some wine, and not going out with you.”

“Oooo,” he says dramatically. “That hurts, Dalton. You know, I’ve never understood why you won’t give me a chance. You and I could be a good match.”

I look over at him. “Maybe because you’ve had your dick in every vagina in this building, Miller. Ever thought of that?”

“So, you’re saying if I hadn’t, there would be a chance?”

I roll my eyes as the doors open. “No.” I step out and head down the hallway to our offices.

“I’m only a short distance away,” he calls after me. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

I hold up my middle finger as I turn into the open door. I hear him laugh and I see Davy leaning on a co-worker’s desk. Frank Davy’s got a bit of a belly from too much beer and not enough exercise. He’s bald on top, but he has hair on the sides of his head.

It’s salt and pepper, showing how this job can stress you out. He’s chewing on a healthy nut bar ’cause his wife is constantly putting him on a diet.

He looks up at me and moves his tie. “How did your meeting go?” he asks discretely. We’ve decided not to let everyone in here know I’m going to therapy.

I make a face, but say, “It went amazing. We really made a breakthrough.”

Monroe, the guy whose desk Davy is at, looks up over his eyeglasses. “What kind of meeting did you have?” he asks.

“Don’t worry about it,” Davy says.

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