Grayson's Gamble

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Grayson Belle paced the soundproof office in the Pentagon, feeling like a wild animal in a zoo. The pressure threatened to undo his control. If the situation didn’t soon improve, he feared he’d pull his hair out by the roots. No, not his hair. The wild brown mane on that dickhead Decker would do one better.

To his boss he snarled, “Reassign him before I do something we’ll both regret. It’s been eight fucking months already. I’ve had enough.”

Admiral Geoffrey London smiled at the threat, and Gray snorted. Despite all the shit he’d been through in the past year, they both knew he wouldn’t hurt his superior, the man he thought of as an honorary grandfather, to make his point. But he didn’t intend to let his unhappiness go by unnoticed. When Gray continued to glare at the older man, Lonnie finally relented and took a healthy step back behind his desk.

He sighed as he sat down. “Now Gray, don’t you think you’re overreacting? You’re both doing so well together.”

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