Page 75 of Unmade

He huffed and lowered his foot again, then walked over to pick up a pair of socks on his bed.

His room was tidy. I liked that. I kinda envied his having a couch, though. I’d had to make room for a second bed for Alex. Luckily for her, she was a good roommate.

“We’ll head down to grab food, and then we’ll come back here,” I said. “I wanna pick your brain about what we discussed earlier.”

He threw me a wary glance as he put on his sneakers. “All right, but… Um. Is there any way you don’t have to tell Doc about it? I’m just waiting for him to wanna screen me for psychopathy or something.”

Ah. So he was aware his reactions didn’t follow the norm.

Well, fuck that.

“First of all, ain’t no such screening,” I replied, leaning against the doorway. “He might want to assess you—I’m not gonna lie. But the odds of that destroying your future here are nonexistent. He’s assessedmethree times, and I’m still here. I don’t tick enough of the wrong boxes.”

He knitted his brows. “I don’t get it. He assessed you for what?”

“He has a…a model of some sort,” I replied. “It includes about eight different tests, three interviews, and a search into your family history. He’ll basically go by extensive lists of behaviors and traits for various diagnoses—like ASPD, autism, bipolar, ADHD, you name it. Psychopathy and sociopathy are in there as well. But the thing is, Leighton, Doc knows what he’s doing, and he’s well aware that some of these traits can actually benefit us in this particular field.”

I could tell I had his attention. Poor kid had been afraid, hadn’t he?

“Let’s talk on the way downstairs.” I left the door between our rooms open and went out through the exit in his room instead. “The chief difference between our recruitment process and the one you’ll find in the military is that we don’t show you the door based on a letter combination.”

Leighton closed the door and sidled up next to me.

“I swear, half our Intel team is on the autism spectrum.” That was only partly a joke. “You wanna know how many traits I share with a so-called psychopath? This is in Doc’s files and everything.”

“Um, yeah.” He glanced up at me. “Let me guess, impairment in remorse and empathy.”

I tipped my head, weighing my answer. “I struggle to care about people,” I confirmed. “That doesn’t mean I can’t. The group is just small.” The library was empty, so I didn’t feel the need to push the pause button as we walked through. “Ironically, I can pick up on other people’s distress very easily. It just doesn’t sway me, normally.” Leighton happened to be a weird exception. From the moment I’d met him six years ago, I’d wanted to ease his troubles. “But in short, according to Doc—and I admit, he’s right—I lack remorse and empathy for the majority of the population, and this includes animals. I could legit kill someone for mistreating their dog, but that doesn’t mean the dog is important to me in any way. In commercials about street dogs, I’m more concerned about the diseases they’re spreading.” I paused as we reached the elevators, and we were lucky. One was waiting for us. “In the field, I’m calculating, aggressive, and volatile, traits that bleed into my normal life in milder doses.”

Leighton pushed the button, and we headed down. “Are there any boxes you don’t tick?”

I scratched my bicep and squinted, trying to remember the list of traits Doc had shown me. “I’m not manipulative by nature, or egocentric, and I can’t say I’m shallow or arrogant either.”

He nodded pensively and pinched his lips together for a beat. “But it’s still a lot. And Doc has no problems with it? You’re a senior operator with plenty of responsibility—you’re in charge of the recruits.”

I nodded. “Because I’m more than those traits, Leighton. I’m a good leader. I want our recruits to succeed and go far. I like helping others when it’s a topic that matters to me—or a person I feel close to for one reason or another. I’m protective and observant, disciplined and assertive, and I’m intuitive.” I thought of one more. “I can also see a hundred different perspectives at once, which is both a blessing and a curse, but it makes me somewhat patient, understanding, and objective.”

He quirked a small smirk as we stepped out of the elevator. “What about humble?”

“I’m not that,” I chuckled. Fuck being humble. “That’s not to say I don’t know my shittier qualities. Case in point, I’m an awful boyfriend. I can be too blunt and come off as cold. When things are personal, I struggle more to make rational decisions, and that’s fundamental as an operator. It’s why I’ve been forced to take the back seat on my own assignment.”

He nodded to himself, and we walked into the fairly empty cafeteria.

I exchanged a hello with Riggs, who was having dinner with one of the junior operators he’d once mentored.

“What’s good?” I asked.

“The pork chops with oven-roasted potatoes and mushrooms,” he said. “Don’t let Jonie skimp on the sauce.”

That sounded fantastic. “She wouldn’t dare with me. We had that conversation once when she asked if I really needed dessert.”

Riggs shook his head, as offended as I had been.

But to appease the woman, I added a plate of steamed broccoli to my tray. Leighton went with the other option, some pasta dish that looked good too.

We headed back upstairs once we had our trays, and Leighton asked if I actually preordered my dinner every night. Which was the general rule for operators, even though the kitchen staff never let the food run out.

“Not now,” I responded. “Since I’m practically a resident now, I’m on the same list as you.”

---