“You’ll need to come back later.”
Yeah.
That’s not fucking happening.
“Thanks anyway.” I tap the counter and walk past him.
This, of course, grasps his attention.
“Hey! You can’t go in there.”
“Watch me.”
“But I─”
I swing the door to Walker's office open and make myself comfortable by plopping down into the chair across from him.
“What the hell is this?” He’s not yelling, surprisingly enough. He’s taken aback, yes, but not so much over the fact that I’m here, but that we seemed to have walked in on a very private conversation he’s in the middle of.
“’Sup, Dick.” I kick my feet up onto his desk.
“I’ll call you back,” he says into the phone. Jim, maybe? Then he waves his lapdog out of the room.
I smile and wave as he backs away and closes the door. After that, Walker’s stoic fa?ade cracks. His jaw tightens. I smirk to help contain the fact that what I really wanna do right now is reach across the desk and wring his fucking neck.
Basic general instincts rarely steer me wrong.
“Stiles, I’m surprised to see you this soon. Glad to have you, of course, but surprised.”
Now, let’s be real for a second or two here. The guy hasn’t been glad to see me since I used to run around with his daughter back in high school. Said I was a bad influence. Funny thing is, she ended up hanging out with the “cool” crowd one night and landed herself in a Virginia jail cell for drinking and driving plus reckless endangerment for going fifty miles an hour over the speed limit.
Of course, that was all expunged once the powers that be found out who she was.
“What’d you need me for, Walker? You sounded damn chipper in your message. Someone up in the ranks die and leave you their super-secret power ring?”
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 fuck 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 fuck.
“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 fuck 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 fucking attitude of his we all know and love.
That was sarcasm, by the way.
None of this is computing.