Page 11 of Honorable Convictions
“You’ve memorized the damn manual. You should know that teamwork and camaraderie is an important part of being a fallen knight.”
“Except that it says that while on the job you need to be cordial and make overtures toward your coworkers. This is training. Not one of those people is going to be in your life after the next seven weeks are complete.”
“It doesn’t hurt to have contacts in other cities, Blondie.”
“It’s too late for that.”
Mitchell’s brows drew together, and he circled around the perimeter of the pad as he tried to keep Pierson at bay while using his obviously feebler gray matter to discern his words. “Huh?”
“Never mind.”
Charging forward, Mitchell purposely swept Pierson’s hands aside and hit his shoulder with enough force that he hit the ground. “We already have enough shit you refuse to discuss, Blondie. You need to stop hiding under your little mask and talk to me.”
With a ferocious glare, Pierson slapped his palms down and dragged himself up. “Why are you always ordering me around?”
“Me? You’re the one with all the crazy demands.”
“Crazy demands?”
“Yes, but I can’t get into specifics because apparently there are some words in the English language our mighty Blondie is refusing to allow me to utter,” Mitchell retorted in a mocking voice meant to resemble Pierson’s slightly higher octave.
“Stop calling me that.”
“I’m tired of listening to you ordering me around,” Mitchell managed after a grunt as Pierson tried to nail him in the balls. “You might want to preserve that area of my body.”
“Yeah, who knows which mouth your dick is going to wind up in next,” Pierson sniped in a whisper.
“You need to get over it,” Mitchell said, and was quite proud that he didn’t yell it in his mate’s stubborn face.
“I see. I’m the one with the crazy orders, but I’m just supposed to forget the image I can’t get out of my mind?” Pierson asked through his teeth.
Pissed off and irritated that Pierson refused to be reasonable, Mitchell glared and forgot about the mission assigned. “It’s not my fault.”
“I presume somehow it’s mine.”
“You ever heard of knocking?” Mitchell asked stupidly, since the entire group had been going in and out of that door for three days without any warning. Not that something so simple as a rap on the wood would’ve stopped Trista anyway. Mitchell had given her permission to prove her point, and she had been determined to follow through. It was something he regretted, but he was too angry to get into that aspect of it.
Pierson’s head snapped back as if he’d been struck. “You’re blaming this on me?”
“Brooks. Murphy. Get over here,” VK Ruarc hollered. His timing was poor, but Mitchell had no choice but to obey his superior. After receiving another nasty look from Pierson, they joined the other fallen knights. “Good job today, guys. Now get to your next lesson.”
Predictably, Pierson took off without giving anyone a second glance, and Mitchell had no choice but to let him go. There wasn’t an opportunity before they had to report again to settle their differences, not that Pierson was likely to listen to his apologies. Mitchell’s temper had gotten the best of him, and he wasn’t helping matters.
The only thing left was to take some calming breaths and develop a plan to fix this growing disaster. Mitchell would pencil that in between practicing in the gym, reading his books seven hundred times in some lame attempt to match Mr. Perfect’s scores, and maintaining a friendship with his fellow recruits.
“You okay?” Trista asked.
“Yeah, sorry. Let’s go.”
“You and Murphy at it again?”
Mitchell bit back his sigh as they trooped toward their destination. “We seem to easily irritate one another.”
“He’s not helping his social skills by refusing to hang out with us.”
Even though Mitchell agreed with her, he didn’t like anyone criticizing Pierson. “Honestly, I think he’s embarrassed because he was sick so long,” Mitchell said, with no idea if there was any truth to his words.
“Please, it’s not his fault. It certainly gave him the chance to memorize every damn word in our books.”
