Page 107 of Shrapnel

“How are you feeling?” there was an edge to his tone that was only reserved for when he was deeply unhappy.

“Fine,” Owen mumbled, fingers sliding into the sleeves of his hoodie. “It’s nothing.”

Grant stared at him for a long moment before smiling politely. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. Elijah has informed me you’ve lost your home. There is a room made up for you at Weaver Syndicate, if you want it.”

Owen swallowed and glanced up at Jamie quickly.

“Weaver Syndicate will be safer for you.”

He nodded, hair flopping in front of his eyes. Jamie let his fingers slide against Owen’s neck, a small touch of comfort. “I need to speak to Grant. Elijah should be downstairs with the car. I’ll meet you there.”

Owen looked relieved to leave. He stood, shimmying out of the wheelchair with a small smile at Grant and a mumbled thanks. Jamie watched him disappear around the corner before he abandoned the wheelchair against the wall. Stuffing his hands in his pockets he joined Grant as they leisurely walked towards the elevator.

“You’ve been busy,” Grant pointed out neutrally.

Jamie wasn’t surprised he knew. He probably knew more than they did. He had given them free rein to help Noah, but Jamie didn’t need to look at his face to know he was displeased at how they handled it. Grant had different ideas on discretion than Jamie did.

His version probably didn’t involve bombs.

“We’ve kept the Weaver name out of it.”

“I know,” Grant said with a sigh. He wasn’t wearing his knife strapped to his thigh but that didn’t make him look any less deadly. There was a power about him that Jamie didn’t understand. He had spent years trying to emulate it only to realize it wasn’t something he could copy. Itwaspower. Pure, raw, confident, power. Something Grant had because he knew he could back it up.

“I’m not angry about that.” He reached the elevator and pressed the button. “I’m angry because you ended up injured.”

The stainless-steel elevator doors opened, and they stepped in. Grant pressed the ground floor button and exhaled. He seemed to slump a little now that they were away from prying eyes.

“Jamie, look at me,” Grant commanded, turning to face him. “You are an asset to Weaver Syndicate. I have kept a clear professional line between us because I felt that would be more comfortable for you. But let me be clear,” his light eyes were intense, boring into Jamie in a way that made him feel trapped—like he wanted to step away but he was caught in Grant’s orbit.

“You are far more than an asset to me.”

Jamie’s eyes widened. He knew Grant cared about him. How could he not? He had given Jamie everything—an education, a job, a purpose. Taught him how to shoot, how to conquer his fear.

But that was all in the name of Weaver Syndicate. Of creating a Lieutenant Grant could implicitly trust. While Jamie had always felt a closeness to Grant, he had never considered it could be a two-way street.

In a lot of ways, Grant filled the role of mentor to Jamie. He saved him, physically and emotionally. But he had also shown him what it was like to trust, to care. In his subtle ways Grant had been important to Jamie. Someone he wanted to make proud.

“Whatever is happening in your life, you can tell me. But you don’t have to. I trust you to handle this.” He dropped a hand to Jamie’s shoulder. He had to crane his neck so he could look into the shorter man’s eyes.

“Lately I’ve had some experience in dealing with stubborn men who don’t know when to ask for help.” he smiled fondly, and Jamie knew exactly who he was referring to. “So I’m telling you now—you don’t have to ask. You have it.”

There weren’t many people who knew what it meant to have Grant in their corner. But Jamie did. He knew what it meant, and he knew he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve any of it—Owen, Elijah, and now Grant. They were the best of people and Jamie was an unwanted kid borne of violence and contempt.

The words were stuck in his throat, “…why?”

Grant grabbed Jamie by the back of his neck, scruffing him until his face was brought close. “I could tell you, but it’s something you’ll have to answer yourself.”

The elevator ground to a halt and Grant stood up. His smile was softer now, a little lighter. “I’m sure Owen would be happy to help you figure it out. He’s a nice boy. Bring him around for dinner sometime.”

Grant had a coy smile on his face, like he knew exactly what Owen and Jamie had been up to. He probably did.

Jamie blushed and nodded, dropping his head. He wasn’t sure how to feel. In the span of twenty-four hours, he had completely eviscerated himself. Laid himself bare for those he cared most about, and they didn’t recoil in horror. Instead, they had patched him up. Stitched him back together with the best parts of themselves and he didn’t know why.

The doors opened and Jamie stepped through.

“Oh, and Jamie,” Grant called him as he pressed the button for the underground garage. “I let you go once, and it was the greatest mistake I’ve ever made. I don’t repeat mistakes. Of all people, you know what I’m willing to do to get those I care about back.”

There was no pleasant smile on Grant’s face. He was dead serious.