Page 53 of A Labor of Hate
He broke the silence first, his voice soft.“You know, this is the only time I’ve ever seen yousad.Sometimes I think I see glimpses of it whenever you stare at the daffodils outside, but never like this.At work you’re either unfazed by anything or annoyed with me.”
Ah.So, he noticed my lingering glances at the daffodils.Great.
I hid my embarrassment with a snort.“I thought youlikedseeing me fazed?”
He stared at his knees, resting his arms across them.“Not like this.”
Well, huh.He didn’t like seeing me sad.I’d think that out of character for him, but over the past week, he’d managed to do the last thing I ever expected of Colt Dixon.
Hesurprised me.
I’d given him ample ammunition against me, and he hadn’t used any of it.Sure, he teased me about my cooking skills or called me out on my chaotic existence, but nothing truly meaningful.Nothing that would really hurt me.
Whether it was because of the nature of our assignment or not, I didn’t know.But the reasons didn’t matter right now.
“For the record” —I swallowed hard, unsure why I was still talking— “that was the most emotion I’ve ever seen from you, too.I annoy or sometimes amuse you, but you’re always so in control.”
“Buttoned up?”he supplied, sending me a pointed look.
I cringed.Right.Ihadcalled him that yesterday, hadn’t I?“I almost thought you just didn’t experience the full range of human emotion.”I bumped my shoulder against his.“You don’t have any wires and circuits under your skin, right?I’ve considered checking.”
“That hurts, Lex.Right in my cold, dead, robot heart.”
I snorted a laugh.No snide remark about how unoriginal my cyborg jokes were?Apparently, he wasfullof surprises today.“If youarea robot, you’ve got a great sense of humor.Which is something I hated about you.”
He held up a hand.“Hold on.You hated that I had a sense of humor?How does that make sense?”
Okay, yeah, putting it like that sounded pretty mental.
“It was just one more thing that was perfect about you, okay?With the way you’re everything I’m not, it would’ve been much easier to hate you if you had the comedic sense of a paperclip.So, the fact that you’re funny—maybeeven funnier than me—made me hate you more just to compensate.”
He didn’t respond at first.In the silence permeating the room, I internally kicked myself for showing so much of my hand.I hadn’tmeantto divulge so much.It just… came out.
Before I could backpedal and tell him to forget I said anything, he spoke.“You thought I was perfect?”
This time, there wasn’t any smugness.None of the haughtiness he usually wore, or theholier than thouattitude.Only contemplation.Maybe a dash of disbelief.Which, with how much I harped on him about his quirks and habits, wasn’t unwarranted.
Shame and embarrassment burned through me, and I covered my face with my hands.“Practically perfect, yeah.Everything I struggle with, you excel at.Everyone likes you at work, you’re never, ever late, you apparently date supermodels, and you don’t have any vices.Literally.It’s impossible for you to even have coffee breath because you don’t drink coffee.It’s infuriating.”I shrugged and squeezed my eyes shut so I couldn’t peek at him through the slats of my fingers.“You had a perfect, orderly life until I showed up and became a thorn in your side.Who wouldn’t be jealous of that?”
Everything in his life—papers, folders, shoes, cups, neckties, you name it—had its proper place.And I was still trying to find my place in the squad.In the world.It was easier to hate him than to admit that he was everything I should be, so I dug my heels in to prove that I was fine the way I was and he was the one who needed to change.And—stubborn ox that I was—I didn’t want to stop.
Hating him was safe.Our rivalry wassafe.Because if I didn’t have it as my smokescreen, what might remain when the last of the fumes dissipated terrified me.
“I don’t have the perfect life, Lex.”
I let my hands drop, though I didn’t open my eyes.“Just because you’re single now doesn’t mean you’ll always be.You’ve got women lining up to date you.For all I know, you probably have a spreadsheet or reservation system to keep them all organized.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”He sighed, stretching the silence between us thin as paper.“My… home life as a teen was pretty… messed up.”
I opened my eyes so I could study him as he gathered his thoughts.
Classic Colt.Always thinking.This time, though, I found it didn’t bother me at all.It was like we were balancing on a trapeze.One wrong move could send us plummeting, and one right one could send us soaring.So, I took a page out of his book and waited.
“When I was in middle school, my mom injured her back and needed surgery.After the procedure, she was given opioids to cope.”
My stomach sank as I pictured where this was going.I had my reasons for joining the Drug-Related Crimes squad, after all, so he must, too.
“The problem was,” he continued, “she became addicted.At first, she could still function pretty normal while popping pills, but eventually everything took the backseat to her addiction.Me, her marriage, her job.Everything.Dad tried to help out, but he could only do so much when she wasn’t willing to get the help she needed.”
