Fight Like You've Never Lost by SJ McCoy

Author:SJ McCoy [McCoy, SJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Xenion, Inc
Published: 2020-11-12T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

“Are you going to give me the go ahead to travel?” Ryan was pissed. He gripped the edge of Callahan’s desk with both hands and leaned toward him. “Or not?”

As ever, Callahan wasn’t fazed by his outburst one way or another. “You can travel domestically, how about that? You’re still signed off for another week. I’m not sending you back down there. Manny has everything covered. He’ll probably be back here before you get cleared to go.”

Ryan blew out his cheeks. “So, what? I’m supposed to sit around here on my ass and do nothing?”

Callahan smiled. “You could sit on your ass and make yourself useful. Some people make whole careers—and useful contributions—out of sitting on their asses.”

“I don’t mean that.” Callahan was big on respecting the analysts and the cubicle dwellers. Ryan had nothing against them. He appreciated them. But he’d be damned if he’d become one of them.

“I know. But it’s obvious I couldn’t put you back in the field even if I wanted to—which I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you just missed a huge opportunity I dangled right under your nose.”

Ryan scowled. “What?”

“I said you could travel domestically.”

“Where do you want me to go?”

Callahan smirked. “The same place you’ve been wanting to go since the day you left there. Patrick Palmer wants to see you in Sacramento and that’s, what … an hour and a half drive from Berkeley?”

Ryan’s shoulders sagged. He let go of the desk and sank down into the chair. “Can I?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for the last five minutes. If you’d stop fighting the air around you, you’d see it. Go see your girl. Relax. Get right with yourself. You have a week before they’ll sign you off. I’ll give you ten days.”

“Unless I can be of any use sooner?”

“You can’t. So, get out of here, would you? You’re making my office look untidy.”

Ryan got to his feet with a rueful smile. “Thanks, boss.”

He pulled his phone out on his way back to his car. He couldn’t wait to tell Leanne. He’d hardly talked with her this week. It was typical that while he’d been back here recovering from what had turned out to be not much more than a flesh wound, and would have had tons of time to talk with her, she’d been slammed with study and had barely sent him a dozen words all week.

When will you be free? I want to talk to you.

He stared at the screen, hoping she might reply straight away. She didn’t. And he knew he shouldn’t feel so disappointed; she was probably in class. But he was starting to feel a little antsy about their lack of communication. He hadn’t told her he was back stateside—because she hadn’t known that he’d been gone. He hadn’t told her about getting shot. He wasn’t sure how he was going to address that, but he’d wait until he saw her. But the main reason that they hadn’t talked much was because she kept putting him off with one or two-word answers.

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