troubled | e.d.

two

ethan

"you know why you're here?" richard asks, placing his hands on the desk, trying to intimidate me or something.

i'm simply silent, swiveling slightly in the desk chair.

"answer me, ethan. you know why you're here?"

"with all due respect sir, i think we all know why i'm here," i smirk. i don't talk much, but when i do it's usually quick quips that drive adults insane.

he rolls his eyes, standing up straight and crossing his arms over his chest. "i worked so hard on your case, ethan. and you didn't face any time. so please return the favor to me and be at least slightly bearable this summer."

i lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees.
"you didn't do shit for my case. we both know that."

"tell that to the three years you were facing, dolan," he raises his eyebrows at me, and i sit back in my chair. "a class six extraordinary risk felony."

three years? i thought it was only one.

"class six is the least serious offense," i say blandly.

"nonetheless, i expect you to do as you're told with your time here. hedges need clipped? grab some clippers. mary-anne needs your help? congrats, you're the new bookkeeper."

i tap my foot on the floor of his carpeted office and try to resist the urge to just flee out of here.

"what if my case gets reopened?"

"won't happen. it's unconstitutional."

"not if there's new evidence presented to the judge," i raise my eyebrows challengingly. "which could technically result in my ultimate indictment and possible conviction."

he points at me. "see? you're smart. you're such a smart guy and you threw it away. could've worked in the BAU."

"please," i snort. "like i would ever take a desk job that barely solves three cold cases a year."

his jaw sets and he takes a deep breath.
"ethan, you're already on thin ice with the law. don't make me dislike you more than i already do. i'm taking a big risk here by letting you have a summer job to get yourself a good name. don't blow it."

i keep my mouth shut, and he sighs a little.
"you met daryl, right?"

"yeah, the guy practically tossed me into your assistant's office," i scoff. "i don't think he likes me."

"he knows about you. that's why."

"who else knows?" i ask, a cold chill traveling down my spine.

"no one except me, daryl, and mary-anne has some clue. just enough people to make sure you don't get out of line," he points a finger at me firmly.

"what about the girl?" i ask, tilting my head to the side.

"what girl?"

"she almost spilled coffee on me. what about her? she was in the room with mary-anne. does she know?"

the color drains from his face and i see an expression of pure seriousness cloud over it. he leans down, getting so close to my face i can smell his afternoon coffee breath.