Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (Road to Redemption #1)(72)

He scowls over at me.

“That supposed to be a joke, Stiles?”

I jerk a shoulder. “Kinda. So what’s up? Kidnapping? Murder? Bad guys lose their drugs?”

That last one is a subtle test to see how he reacts. So far, he’s doing a bang-up job of giving me exactly what I was expecting.

No eye contact. Random paper fidgeting. Rapid eye movement.

“You sweating?” He’s not, but I can’t pass up the opportunity to add some paranoia into the mix of this visit.

He wipes his head and checks his hand. A scowl on his face, he rubs his hand on his leg and begins to sift through some paperwork that’s probably just a bunch of blank pages, for all I know.

He’s wasting time.

Why is he wasting time?

He’s either stalling, or he’s having second thoughts about why he called me in the first place.

“So you wanna tell me what the f*ck you wanted today, or am I supposed to play twenty questions until I figure this shit out on my own?”

’Cause I like guessing games.

Not really.

Walker breathes in deep and holds it.

He’s debating, but it doesn’t take him long to make a decision. He puts his pencil down. He stands his papers up on end and straightens them, then tucks them away underneath his desk-sized calendar.

When he looks up at me, he seems concerned.

“I want you to reconsider re-applying for the force, Jackson.”

Say… “Huh?” That’s a new one. Color me not seeing that coming at all while you’re at it.

“At your earliest possible convenience.”

Seriously. What the f*ck.

“Why?”

His mouth draws downward. He spreads his hands out.

“You do good work. People here know you already.” His brow dips. “I think you’d make an excellent addition to the team.”

Bullshit answer number two. No way in hell am I buying that it’s as simple as he wants me here.

“Come again?” The words pop out before I can even think about it.

I mean, not that I have to think about it.

He waves a hand flippantly toward me. “It’s time to get over all that shit from the past, Stiles.”

I cross my arms. “Really.” This shit oughta be good.

“Absolutely.”

First of all, he doesn’t tell me what the f*ck to do, and secondly… “Says who?” And where does he get off trying to make light of the past.

His or mine.

“Says the world.” His pompous personality takes center stage as he stands up and waves his hands all over the goddamn office. “Says bill collectors and car payments. Rent and family and all the other expenses one might incur during their lifetime. You do all right in the private sector, Stiles, I’ll admit that, but you need to start thinking security.”

My jaw is tight. My forehead strained. I almost hear Green’s voice telling me I’ve got that look again. The one where I wear all my stress.

I open my eyes and stretch them out to make it go away.

“I don’t have a car payment.”

What? It’s all I’ve got.

“It doesn’t matter,” he tells me with that know-it-all f*cking attitude of his we all know and love.

That was sarcasm, by the way.

None of this is computing.

At all.

I’ve known Dick a long time. Back when I was in the academy, he was still an instructor, trying to claw his way into a much more appreciated ranking on the force. The guy’s had an ulterior motive in his back pocket since the day we met.

The only question is, what’s the motive here?

Like he said himself, doesn’t matter.

He sucked ass back in the day, and he sucks ass now.

“I could even get you a spot on the same team as your brother.” He eyes me carefully. “If that’s what you want.”

Not gonna * foot around here. Workin’ with Nick, although not the highest of my priorities these days, would obviously have its benefits. Like seeing what the hell he’s up to around here. This would also give me access to answers I can’t easily get to on the outside.

But the truth of the matter here is, Walker’s playing me.

I don’t know this because he’s willing to bend a rule or two to get me in the same precinct as Nick, mind you. I know this because Dick Walker doesn’t do favors without expecting something in return.

So I call him out.

“What’s the catch?”

“Catch?” He laughs. “I simply want the best of the best on board here in Redemption.” He waits a few seconds and adds, “Of course, your connections in the area would be an asset as well.”

My connections.

I think through some of them. The only one I can really pinpoint off the top of my head as being worthwhile for Walker would be Tricky Ricky.

Dick pulls out a pack of Marlboro Lights.

Now, let’s ignore the fact that he isn’t even supposed to be f*cking lighting up inside the building, for a moment, shall we?

But seriously. Lights? Really?

*.

He catches me eying the pack like a kid in a candy store and extends it out to me.

“Smoke?”

I shake my head at him. “Used to, but no thanks.”