Over Christmas, they’d canceled their days off to help Corbin Price close a homicide case, and then for the next three weeks, they’d kicked ass and taken names as they did nothing but grind.
It had been back-to-back for them, and pretty much for everyone in that office.
Change was coming.
Crime was dropping in the city, and he knew that was because the two men were leading the charge. It offered motivation to the rest of the team.
So much so that everyone’s numbers were up.
The cold, hard truth was that when their two years were over, he was going to miss them.
They were damn good agents, and Greyson was grateful to have them on the team.
Honestly, he wouldn’t be upset if they were there for the rest of his time in the FBI. What this city needed were FBI agents who could get shit done.
And that was them.
They closed cases left and right.
So, them not taking a vacation…it was odd. Since he hadn’t explained what was going on, but instead kept it brief, curiosity was killing the Croft.
Sue him.
At the knock to his door, he knew who it would be because Gene rarely was not on time. When he said he’d be there, he’d be there.
The man was damn reliable.
When Gene called, he said that he needed to talk to him about a problem.
All he could hope for was that he and Ethan were not having relationship issues. Greyson could barely hold his shit together, and two Feds who had broken up…
Not something he wanted to deal with on top of the rest. He wasn’t a therapist.
He was a mess.
Look at his life.
“Come in,” he offered.
When the door opened, Gene was there, and it didn’t take a mind reader to know the man was stirred up.
Uh-oh.
There were lines of tension around his mouth, and the last time he saw those, it was when Ethan was being hunted by Javier Hughes.
Since the man was in jail, with no parole until his hearing, it couldn’t be about that. It looked as if his suspicions were right.
This smelled like a personal quagmire.
Well, shit.
There went the numbers. If Blackhawk and Cantrell broke up, he suspected the whole office was taking a nosedive.
Now, Greyson had to find a solution, and do anything he could to change the trajectory.
“Hey,” he said. “Have a seat. What’s up?” he asked. “I hope you and Ethan are okay. You were supposed to be on your way to the airport.”
Yeah, well, tell him about it.
