Page 14 of Guarded By the Bigfoot
“Parker, please. Let us handle it.”
“If I don’t check in soon, ARC’s going to send a recovery team. Armed, and very curious.” I stood and brushed off my pants. “Director Nolan is probably halfway to a coronary by now.”
“I know exactly how they are,” Brock said, jaw tightening. “I was there when they started grabbing up every artifact they could find. Locking away anything with a hint of power. You weren’t around back then, Parker. You didn’t see how they operated.”
I crossed my arms. “That was years ago.”
“They wanted control. Complete control. Every relic, every site, every scrap of knowledge, all locked away in their vaults.” He pushed off the doorframe and started pacing. “You think that’s changed? That they’ve suddenly developed a conscience?”
“It’s not like that anymore, Brock. Hasn’t been for a long time.” I sat on the edge of the bed. “After that mess, they had to change. New oversight, new protocols. Half the agency got replaced.”
“And you believe that?”
“I’ve worked there for years. I’ve seen the changes firsthand.” I met his gaze. “Look, I get it. The old ARC was a disaster. They made huge mistakes. But keeping powerful artifacts out of civilian hands? Creating containment protocols? That saved lives.”
Brock ran a hand through his hair. “And what about the communities those artifacts came from? The people who protected them for generations?”
“Which is why we have the Heritage Return Program now. We work with local communities. We return items when possible.” I exhaled, frustration tightening my chest. “I get where you’recoming from, the anger, the distrust. It’s valid. But keeping quiet about the Veil? That’s dangerous.”
“More dangerous than ARC getting involved? Starting another incident?”
“They’re not perfect. But they have resources we need.” I held up my hands. “I’m not saying we tell them everything. Just... let me manage it. Keep them informed enough to keep them off our backs while we figure this out.”
Brock paused mid-step. “You really trust them that much?”
“I trust them to want to prevent a disaster. And right now, that’s exactly what we’re facing.”
“I’ll never trust them.”
I watched him, watched how tension rippled through every inch of him. My gut twisted with the familiar pull. Duty to ARC battled with the growing trust I had in him. In this place.
“I hear you,” I said. “But I can’t just walk away from everything I believe in. Everything I’ve worked for.”
Brock turned to face me, his eyes unreadable. My heart stuttered. I didn’t want him to look at me like that, like I was something he might have to let go of.
“No one’s asking you to walk away,” he said, voice low.
I got up, stepping toward the window for some space. The tension between us pressed in like fog. “Aren’t you? Because it feels like you are. Ten years at ARC, Brock. I’ve seen the good. But then there’s you, and all the amazing things you do out here on your own.”
“Parker...”
“And the worst part?” I turned. “I believe in both. In ARC. In you. Which makes me either the worst agent or the most naive Guardian sympathizer on record.”
His lips lifted. “Why not both?”
“Not helping,” I muttered, but couldn’t help returning the smile. That was the problem with Brock. He made everything complicated. He made me feel things I shouldn’t. And made me question the things I’d been so sure about.
“Look,” I said, calmer now. “I know there’s history here. Bad blood. But we have to move forward.”
“We do,” he said, stepping closer. “Which is why I need you to trust me.”
Trust. So small a word. So much weight.
“I do trust you,” I said. “That’s part of the problem.”
“How is trust a problem?”
Because I don’t just trust you as an ally. I trust you with too much. And every time you look at me like that, I forget why this is a terrible idea.
