Page 40 of Casual Felonies (Wildlings #1)

RAMI

Hedy sits across the table from me, smiling broadly. I feel like she’s just put my head in the spin cycle, so I smile back and try not to throw up on her.

She chuckles as she pats my hand. “I know it’s a lot.”

“I thought it was a lot when Truett gave me his Disneyland version of things,” I say, wrinkling my nose. “This is way more involved than all of that.”

Wimberley is… wow .

“I’ve given you more than I’ve given him, and for a very specific reason.”

I raise my brows. “Why would you wanna give me more information than you gave him?”

“We had initially pegged him as an operator. But we quickly realized he isn’t comfortable taking lives.”

“Doesn’t everyone have an issue with taking lives? At least, theoretically?”

She play-grimaces. “Are you sure you’re related to Anders Bash?”

“Pretty damn sure,” I say, shaking my head. “So you’re giving me more information because I’m related? ”

“Yes, kind of. Also, you showed real skill in the field.”

“So did Truett,” I say, both out of loyalty and because it’s the truth. “I mean, sure, he didn’t want to take those lives, but he also didn’t hesitate when it was absolutely necessary. I think that would be an excellent quality in an operator.”

“Accurate.” She bites her lower lip. “But knowing what you know now, how often do you think taking a life wouldn’t be necessary?”

That’s a good point. Killing bad guys who have their boots on people’s necks is pretty much their bread and butter. Truett would hate it.

Hedy’s look is assessing. I up-nod her, a nonverbal What gives?

“According to your dads, you’ve never been interested in the military, or in guns beyond their utility.”

I lift a shoulder. “I enjoy doing the charity work.”

“Yet, in none of our follow-up calls have you mentioned feeling any ill effects from killing in self-defense. Even when asked directly about nightmares, appetite, anxiety, you come up blank, seemingly unaware of how a violent encounter impacts most people.”

“I’m not unaware. I just don’t feel it.” I shake my head, not sure what to tell her. “Is that wrong? Am I fucked in the head?”

She tilts her hand side to side. “On a scale from zero to Anders Bash, no, you’re not too fucked in the head.”

I’m beginning to understand why so many people think my dad’s middle name is a curse word.

Hedy takes a deep breath as she looks me in the eyes. “To be able to kill without personalizing it is a rare skill, one that can’t be taught. The United States Armed Forces has tons of operators who can kill when absolutely necessary, but they require heavy-duty therapy.”

“Do you think that’s because they’re frequently ambivalent about the lives they’re taking?” I ask. “Because I wasn’t ambivalent. At all. They were trying to kill us, so we had to kill them first. Easy math.”

“That is a very good point. There are a lot of questionable orders given, which would create ambivalence. But even when somebody deserves it, when taking them off the map is a net good for humanity, killing another human is hard.”

I tap my fingers on the table. “I guess it’s a combination of my fathers’ weapons training and the way my brain processes things. I was dropped into the situation and immediately knew how to handle myself, without any angst to go along with it.”

“That’s true. The way your brain works is unique. But then you went after Whitaker.” She taps the table. “That was proactively going into dangerous territory with the intent to kill, which is a much different thing than simply being dropped into a bad situation.”

“Is that an indication of psychopathy?” I think about Silas.

Hedy wrinkles her nose, seemingly unconvinced.

“It’s entirely possible that this falls somewhere on the scale of psychopathy, but I don’t think so.

” She takes a sip of her drink. “Unless you’re masking all of the time, you seem to have access to all your emotions.

You’re very loving with your family, you seem to be starting something really special with your boyfriend. ”

“I don’t think I’m masking,” I say, unable to help the grin splitting my face.

“What’s the smile about?”

I flush. “I just like hearing other people call Truett my boyfriend.”

Hedy holds up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. You are definitely the son of Anders Bash.”

“And Omar Bash,” I say quietly.

It’s her turn to smile. “And Omar Bash.”

I eat a bit more of my lunch, and she sits there, observing me.

“Why do I feel like I’m a test subject? ”

“You are, kinda. I’m wondering about what kinds of nature vs. nurture tests we can run on you and your sister.”

“Oh great.” I throw my napkin at her, laughing. “This is how you end up in some nefarious lab, ten stories below the ground in a liquid solution, having your genes experimented with.”

She looks off to the side, zipping her lips with a dramatic gesture.

We laugh and she reaches forward, grabbing my hands.

“You don’t have to say yes to any of this.

You’re my nephew in all but DNA. So, if you’re not interested, that is perfectly fine, and I’ll continue to be your Aunt Hedy.

But, if you want to see where we can go with this…

ability of yours, I’d like to walk with you down that path. ”

I think about it for a few moments, then find her eyes again. “My priority will always be the charity work. But if I can help take bad people off the map like my dads? That seems like a family tradition I wouldn’t mind carrying on.”

Her grin takes on a sort of feral quality. “I’m excited about bringing you onto the team. There’s more to tell you, so I want you to think on it, but I’m gonna have you come out to Wimberley next weekend and we’ll talk it through.”

“I have a tiny home build on Saturday, but Sunday is good.”

“Actually, I was aware of that,” she says, tapping her phone. “You’re already scheduled for Sunday.”

I’m surprised, but not.

“Something tells me this is going to be fun.”

“So, what do you think about me going out to Wimberley tomorrow?” I ask Truett as we pull into the parking lot for the tiny house build.

“I don’t know if we’re at a point where my opinion should mean that much,” he says, glancing over with a thoughtful expression.

“I know this is new,” I say, biting my lip, “but I’m asking because there’s something here between us. Something solid. And I think you prefer nonviolence.”

“True,” he says, offering a soft smile. “But I’ve never shied away from roughing up those who fuck with the vulnerable.”

The thought settles in behind his eyes and the grin fades.

“Killing someone is too heavy for me, though. Fucks with my head, you know?”

I nod, taking his inked hand in mind, pressing my lips to his knuckles.

“It doesn’t seem to burden you, though,” he continues. “I think you’ll be able to do a lot of good.”

“So will you,” I say, worry bubbling up.

Pressing his thumb between my brows, he asks, “Hey now, what’s this stress line doing here?”

I lift a shoulder. “Hedy wants me in on operations, and most of them are straight up kill missions. I mean, you seem to be cool with it now, but do you think it’ll ever start to bother you? Being with someone who does that?”

“Can I predict the future? No.” He pulls me in for a kiss, then touches his forehead to mine.

“But I can tell you this: I care about what kind of person you are, not just what you’re capable of.

And I think using your strength to protect people is the opposite of something to be ashamed of.

I’m not bothered, Rami. Not even a little.

I’m proud of you—if that’s okay to say.”

Heat rises in my cheeks. “I like making you proud.”

We kiss, more sweet than sexy, then climb out and meet in the front of his car, where we kiss again because we can.

Trudging from the parking lot, we make our way to the build site’s check-in tent. The woman in charge of the tiny home project, whose name is Janice, grins broadly as she waves us over .

“Well, look who the cat dragged in,” she says, giving Truett a warm hug. She turns to me. “Oh. And you.”

Truett snorts into his fist.

“Rami,” I say, glaring at the man who woke me up this morning with his mouth on my cock.

I hold out my hand and she shakes it with a big laugh. “I’m glad you two finally got together. You spent enough time staring at each other. It was a little embarrassing.”

I point at Truett and laugh, and it’s his turn to glare at me.

“I guess we were both a little obvious,” I say, grinning.

“Oh, I remember those days,” Janice says with a dreamy look in her eyes. “When you can’t even hide it? That’s the good stuff.”

“What’s the good stuff, babe?” asks a towering lesbian whose cargo shorts match Janice’s.

Janice grins and leans up on her tiptoes, kissing her woman. “That phase when you think you’re being all stealthy, but everyone around you knows you’ve fallen in love.”

Sucking in a breath, I look over at True, who is grinning along. Honestly, I thought he’d have a pretty big reaction to her words, but he’s in a good mood and maybe didn’t notice that she said she thought we were already officially in love .

Janice and her wife Stevie talk through a few quick details, and Janice assigns us to tape and float the new office.

“You’ve seen my work, right?” I ask, remembering how much extra work I created the last time.

She grins. “I have, and there’s only one way to get better.”

Truett puts his arm around my waist and starts to drag me away. “Tape and float is a gift. She could’ve given us bathroom duty, so shut it before she changes her mind.”

That sets off another round of laughter, and we head toward the office. Before we walk in, he tightens his grip on me, nuzzling my ear .

“I’d like to point out that, of the two of us, you were the one who freaked out when she mentioned being in love.”

I push my tongue against my bottom lip. “Shut up.”

He grins against my temple as he kisses me. “Nah, I’m having too much fun with that little detail.”