“You sure about that?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
Too fast.
Too sharp.
Too—
Yeah.
He heard it.
Of course he did.
“You hesitate out there,” he says quietly, “you get someone killed.”
“I don’t hesitate.”
“No,” he agrees. “You don’t.”
That’s not a compliment.
That’s a warning.
Silence stretches between us.
Heavy.
Because we both know what’s really being said.
“You’re not pulling me off this,” I add.
Not a question.
Not a request.
A fact.
His expression doesn’t change.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
That—
That I didn’t expect.
I narrow my eyes slightly.
“Then what is this?”
“This is me making sure you don’t do something stupid,” he says.
“I don’t do stupid.”
“You do when you don’t think.”
That lands.
