Leon

Well, this was an absolute shit show if I ever saw one.

I was hard-pressed not to turn around, glare at the two men following silently behind me, and ignore the glares they kept shooting at one another. Maintaining some sense of control was essential, which was hilarious because if I'd been in control, I wouldn't be facing the possibility of losing one of my charges. Now I had to clean up the mess and hope I didn't drop the ball…again.

Or maybe I needed to start accepting things could easily go wrong living on a ranch that housed dozens of felons. Well, they were supposed to be felons who aspired to change their lives and fix their behavior through working hard, working with others, and having a sense of camaraderie and community. That was the entire point of being at Isaiah Ranch. Hell, it was an opportunity most people didn't get, so it wasn't unreasonable to expect people to behave themselves…or try to anyway.

I should have known there would be a problem, at least with Reno. The guy really lived up to the stereotype about redheads and their tempers. He'd been here a handful of weeks, and I'd yet to see anything but hostility and barely contained anger from him. It was only a matter of time before his self-control finally unraveled, and he found himself in hot water.

It didn't get any hotter than sucker-punching one of the newest members of the ranch. Again, I should have seen it coming, and I definitely shouldn't have let Reno participate in the impromptu wrestling tournament. It was all well and good to let the guys blow off steam in healthy ways during their free time, but Reno was already infamous for his short fuse. It had been a recipe for disaster.

So here I was, guiding him and Elliot, a hyperactive goofball who had tried to fight Reno over the incident, up to the second floor of the Big House. Most of the time, no one in the program set foot in the main part of the Big House, the building living up to its name at the center of the ranch. Most guys only saw the main parts of the Big House when they first arrived and were introduced to the ranch's owner, Mr. Isaiah, and his second in command. That and graduating from the program. Any other time being led into the Big House was an ominous sign.

It was the second in command I was worried about most. Mona Wilson was by far the most capable person on the ranch. She was a staunch believer in the mission to help felons fix their lives and was completely dedicated to the cause. She was intelligent, organized, and as my grandfather had been fond of saying, had a mind like a steel trap. She could also be demanding and uncompromising and had absolutely no fear of nailing someone to the wall if they screwed up.

Hoping I looked like I knew what I was doing, I led Reno and Elliot into a random room. Like most of the house, it was decorated with things that looked right at home on a ranch, but at the same time, nothing stuck out. I had no idea what the room was usually used for, but there was a table and some chairs, and it was good enough to keep Reno and Elliot in one place while I talked to Mona.

"Sit," I told them, glancing at the table, then at them. Reno scowled, which was normal, but Elliot looked ready to argue. The last thing I needed was more trouble on my hands, so I stared at them until they sat at the table.

"You two stay here. No talking, no more fighting, understand? Any fighting, and you'll be in deeper trouble than you already are," I began before realizing Elliot was opening his mouth. "And no talking to me! Stay here. We'll deal with this when I come back, got it? Just nod."

They both nodded, though Reno's could have just been an irritated twitch of his head for all I knew. It was important they both took me seriously, which I needed at the moment. I also needed to get out of that room before I tempted one of them, Elliot mostly, to break the silence and talk.

With that in mind, I turned and walked out. After closing the door behind me, I took a deep breath and left the hallway, following the carpeted runner into the main foyer. It was grand for a foyer, at least for a house built in the classic Texas ranch style, looking more like a ballroom with the branching stairs, the wide-open space, and the way the upper floor overlooked the main floor.

And there, to no one's surprise, was Mona, standing on the landing where the stairs split, waiting for me. Her dark skin glowed warmly from the soft lights in the sconces behind her, but the look in her eyes was anything but warm. Mona wasn't always easy to read, at least when she didn't want you to figure things out about her. Right now, though, it felt like she was practically radiating dangerous energy as she gestured for me to follow her.

Dread washed over me as she walked up the stairs and headed toward Mr. Isaiah's office. I'd thought we'd go to her office to sort this situation out. If she was bringing this up in front of Mr. Isaiah, things were even worse than I thought.

Sure enough, I followed her through the double doors into the spacious office. It was well-lit, probably because of the large windows facing out onto the property, giving a good view of everything. There were the customary horns and animal heads on the walls and a large cabinet with glass doors housing bottles and glasses. And, of course, the large desk near the windows, with Mr. Isaiah behind it.

"Well, ain't this a pleasant surprise?" Mr. Isaiah said with a grin. "Good to see you again, Leon."

"I'm not sure this is a good moment, but it's good to see you again, sir," I said as Mona walked over to the cabinet and opened it.

"Now, now, there's no need to be glum," he said, patting his round stomach and chuckling as he leaned back in his seat.

"Garret," Mona said in a warning voice, "this is serious. We've got someone in the infirmary with a dislocated jaw. It could have been so much worse. Reno almost broke it."

I grimaced, knowing it had been bad, but I hadn't known the full details of the injuries. I was still hoping something could be salvaged, and if Riley's injuries were rough but not awful, then that might be the avenue I could use to fix things.

"So Riley's okay?" I asked.

"Riley?" Mr. Isaiah asked, the smile on his face withering slightly.

"He's the one Reno attacked," I said, confused by him not knowing the full details and by his reaction.

"And all this over wrestling?" he asked, turning to Mona.

"Yes," she said, setting a glass in front of him and keeping another in her hand.

"No," I said quickly before she could add more. It burst out of me before I could stop myself and my stomach curled unpleasantly when Mona shot me a scrutinizing look. God, I hated it when she looked at me like that, like she was privy to my thoughts or knew something I didn't.

"No?" she asked, swirling the liquor in the glass and watching me closely. "From every account I've heard, that's what happened."

"Now, now, we put Leon in charge of Reno," Mr. Isaiah chided Mona gently. "Maybe we should take a moment and hear him out."

I fought the urge to grimace at his support. The mentor system at the ranch was hands down one of the best things, in my opinion. The role was reserved for those who'd been in the program long enough to have reached Tier One status, but not all of them. I wasn't sure what their exact criteria were for a mentor. That had never been shared with me, but Mona and Mr. Isaiah agreed over a year ago that I fit the bill.

At the time, the offer had touched me. It wasn't like I was given many opportunities with responsibility and respect. My job was to look after my assigned mentees, Tier Threes and Twos, and do what I could to guide them. It didn't take long for me to realize just what a goddamn trap it was.

Every person under my ‘tutelage' was someone I needed to guide through the program as effectively as possible. Sure, the ranch picked its participants in the program carefully, working with a pool of guys who weren't convicted of murder, rape, or domestic violence. They also had another selection process. I didn't know what it was, but it was based on their history, before and during prison, and probably a few other things they didn't tell me.

Most of the time, the cards were stacked reasonably well, so someone would make it through the program, but that wasn't a guarantee. I'd bet good money most of the guys here understood all too well that even with things working in your favor, luck and fate could take a turn and dump you on your ass in a ditch.

Right now, that came in the form of an angry redhead.

"Well," Mona said, nostrils flaring, "you heard the man. Explain."

Patience was and wasn't her best quality. I'd been in the program a few years now, and I'd seen her in action. When things were going well, she had all the patience in the world. Even when things didn't go how they were supposed to, if the failure operated under whatever parameters she had decided, she could still show an abundance of patience and understanding. It was when things went to hell in a handbasket and someone royally screwed up what they weren't supposed to, that she started to get a little testy.

"He had a call earlier," I said, glancing between them. "From home."

"And?" Mona asked, brow furrowing. "Plenty of the men here get calls from home. Quite regularly."

"Not Reno," I said with a shrug. "Of the calls he's received, and there aren't many, only three have been from home. We know because it's listed as one of his emergency contacts. A sister, Mara. Who calls him once a month. Her last call was two weeks ago."

"So she happened to call a couple of weeks early. He's only been here a few months, and it's hard to see a pattern that early," Mona said with a wave of her hand, but I noticed the shadow on her brow was easing slightly.

If there was one thing I could say about myself, my instincts for people were generally good. Not perfect, but it came in handy, especially with this new job. If anything, I'd been trying to teach myself not to ignore my instincts. If I had ignored them less, dismissing them as overreactions or paranoia, I wouldn't have ended up…well, in this spot. Or at least not in prison.

"Because I don't believe in coincidences," I told her finally. "Look, I know he's got a bad attitude. Anyone who's been around him for five minutes knows that."

"He is pretty grumpy," Mr. Isaiah said, the smile returning to his face. "Reminds me of a certain member turned long-term farmhand we have."

"I don't think we can compare Max and Reno," I said with a wince, although imagining Max's face if he heard the comparison was pretty funny. "Max is…different."

Mona opened her mouth, but Mr. Isaiah leaned forward, looking curious. "Why do you say that? I remember having both of them in this office, and I got the same impression. Chip on their shoulder, angry at the world, but something…just something there that might mean they could make it through this place and land somewhere better."

For a moment, I was sorely tempted to ask about when he'd seen me for the first time. Like everyone else in the program, I was introduced to the place and dragged upstairs to meet the big man in charge. He'd struck me as somewhat larger than life, but there was something genuine and grounded too. Somehow, his big grin and thick accent only seemed to enhance the genuineness of his interest and the warmth of his heart.

Yeah, if I were going to get poetic, it would probably be better not to open that particular can of worms.

"Max is, well, my impression is, he just plain doesn't like people. Not because he hates them or because people screwed him over, but because he doesn't like them. Certain people might have hurt him, but that's not him holding it against the world. That's just who he is as a person. I'm sure some people could get through all that crankiness, but it's not like there's anything wrong with him."

"Ah, but there is with Reno?"

"Oh yeah," I said with a laugh and then quickly schooled my face to something more serious. It was probably a bad idea to laugh about how screwed up someone was when you were in charge of taking care of that person. "He's angry at the world and people. Not just…not wanting to be around them, he's always actively angry with everything. Life, people, friends, former partners, all of them have probably screwed him over at some point, and he's just…done with it. Covering himself in anger, maybe people won't try to get close, and if they can't get close, they can't hurt him again."

"And you got all this from…what? The amount of conversation you've had with him?" Mona asked doubtfully. I didn't like it, but I didn't hold her doubt against her. I knew she believed in the program wholeheartedly, but she also had to be practical, and if Reno could be a black spot on the ledger, then she had to consider letting him go.

"Look I…I grew up in a bad way," I said, knowing I was about to gloss over a lot of history. "And I saw other people grow up badly and what it can do to them. And I've seen a lot of people end up like Reno. It's…pretty common, actually. He's got a lot of anger pent up."

"And you don't think that anger finally came to the surface?" Mona asked, taking a sip of her drink.

"I mean, he had to have gone through the selection process you guys do."

"Of course he did. Everyone does."

"A process I've heard you say you have a direct hand in."

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes. What's your point?"

"My point is, you would have already known he had anger problems. I can't imagine you would have overlooked something like that. Not…without a good reason anyway."

"Oh, you can't?" she asked, her jaw tightening slightly.

"You're not one to make mistakes, especially if it's a mistake that might make the program look bad," I said, sensing the ice beneath me starting to crack alarmingly. But I needed her to understand that even if Reno wasn't the most forthright and sharing of people, she had given him to me, and I had been paying attention. "So I can only guess that you either thought his anger wasn't that bad…or you figured there was more to him than just that anger."

Mr. Isaiah chuckled, leaning back in his seat and finally taking his glass. "Oh, I know you don't like it much, but he's got you there."

"I'm aware," Mona said, the slightest hint of a smile on her face. "Alright, Leon, you seem to be finding your big boy pants, and you've stopped me cold for the moment. Get to your point."

"My point is, he's never done anything like this before. And I know his temper is what landed him in prison," I said, catching Mona's eyes. Even mentors weren't told why their mentees were behind bars. But they were given more leeway. Which sometimes included accidental glances at files on Mona's desk or screen when she was assigning new mentees. "I obviously don't know the details of why exactly he beat those two men so savagely, but…you do."

"I do," Mona said, the hint of a smile disappearing. "And I hope you're not?—"

"No, I'm not," I told her quickly. Even between mentors and mentees, it was a rule that you didn't ask why someone was in prison. The whole point of the program was to move beyond your past, and if people wanted their past to remain quiet, then that was their right. It was also precisely the kind of privacy and dignity we'd never expect behind bars, another thing the program gave us. "But if I had to guess, why he did what he did probably influenced your decision."

"I think you're veering into the realm of assumption," she said, but I didn't miss the way her fingers flexed against the glass. It was the smallest gesture, but with Mona, you had to read the slightest thing to understand what was going on underneath.

"Yeah, I know," I said but marked it as a point in my favor. I wasn't going to rub her nose in it, especially when I was sure we both knew I'd hit the nail on the head. "But my real point is…he's had plenty of time to show that temper. And for someone who's seen him every day, I've not seen any changes in him. Until today."

"That was quite a change," Mona said dryly.

"That's what I'm saying. He's been here for what…eight weeks? And you said he'd never had an outburst in prison."

"There were a couple of incidences."

"Right, but you told me those were understandable."

"Justifiable is the word I used."

"Right," I said, knowing she wouldn't tell me what happened. But I wasn't blind or stupid. Prison culture was as brutal as it was ugly, and someone like Reno would draw attention. His red hair alone would make him stand out, and while guys who did partake in the sex ‘exchange' didn't necessarily pay attention to looks, they weren't ignorant of them either. Reno was a good-looking guy with a foul attitude, didn't talk much, and, again, hair so red it was obvious. Those things would make him a target, especially for those who didn't want to take no for an answer.

So again, I could hazard a guess as to what those ‘incidents' had been.

"So, he spent weeks behind bars, and other than ‘justified' moments of violence, he's done nothing. He keeps to himself, doesn't look for trouble, and hasn't lashed out at anyone," I said, glancing between them, hoping I was making my point effectively. "And I know the pattern isn't a big deal in your mind because it's so short, but it stands out to me. He got a call minutes before he showed up to that little tournament the guys were putting on. And then what did he do?"

"He joined in?" Mr. Isaiah guessed, sounding curious.

"Right. He's never willingly participated in anything around here. He does his assigned work, eats in the dining hall, takes care of himself, and that's it."

"No hobbies?"

"He reads, actually. Quite a bit. Let it slip that he did that a lot in prison. Used to work out because he didn't want to get weak, but told me the work here does that for him so he has more time to read."

"Huh, a thinkin' man."

"Actually, I think he's much smarter than he's given credit for. And he's got a better sense for other people than even he knows," I said. "And before you ask, that's based on a hunch. I don't have anything to back it up."

"Alright, then finish what you were trying to back up," Mona said, and if I wasn't mistaken, she sounded amused.

"So first thing, he gets that call. And I know you keep logs of the calls," I said, staring at Mona. "And I'd bet my position as a mentor that something in that call proves me right. Then he joined in with the rest of the guys, something he's never done. And I witnessed what happened and got a few more details afterward."

I had been sitting right there and saw the entire thing. But I'd told myself I needed to let Reno do his own thing and hoped that maybe he was allowing himself to participate in a group activity. I had seen the anger building in his tightening jaw. In the growing aggression while attempting to wrestle Riley off. I had seen the dangerous flash in his eyes when the match ended. Yet I'd ignored it, calling it paranoia, hoping for the best instead of acknowledging reality. I had let it happen through neglect, and damn it, there might still be a chance to salvage it.

"He and Riley wrestled, and honestly, Riley won fair and square. There was no cheating, no underhanded moves. He just…won. The guy is clever. He realized Reno's weak point and went after it, wearing him down," I said with a shrug. "I guess you could say Reno is just a sore loser, but I don't think that's it. He was already riled up and primed to take it out on someone. And then he lost, and whatever's going on with him…well, it burst to the surface."

Which was underselling it considerably, but I was staring down the barrel of a whole lot of trouble. I didn't think it was me personally that was going to end up in trouble, or at least I hoped not. At worst, I might have my mentorship reduced or even taken from me, but I didn't think it would get me into serious trouble.

But Reno? Reno was the one who was going to pay for the whole thing. Yes, it had been his behavior, his choice, which had led to this, but it was my goddamn job to be aware of what was going on with him, of the warning signs of impending danger. I had failed in both, and now a perfectly decent person was in the medical building with a dislocated jaw, and my mentee was facing expulsion from the program.

I had to fix it.

Mona took a moment, draining her glass before setting it down carefully. "You say you'd be willing to bet your mentor status that you're right about that call?"

"I…yes," I said, confused and wondering if she would make me put that on the line.

"You don't sound confident."

"Probably because I wasn't ready for you to call me on that, but yes, I am."

"You didn't expect me to call your bluff…really?"

"Fine, I miscalculated, but I was speaking the truth."

"And what if it was your candidacy in the program on the line?"

That surprised me, and I couldn't help but stare at her. I also didn't miss the sidelong glance Mr. Isaiah shot her. I couldn't tell if he was as surprised as I was, but he didn't look at her with annoyance or like he was arguing. If anything, he seemed to be wondering where this would go. Since Mona wasn't exactly explaining herself, we would have to wait to see.

Whether or not she could put that sort of thing on the line wasn't in question. She had a lot of leeway from Mr. Isaiah, and as far as I could see, he let her do just about whatever she wanted. Whether or not she would do it was the real question. That was one hell of a weight for her to slap down on my statement, but she'd already made it clear that calling my bluff wasn't a problem for me. So it came down to whether or not I believed Reno wasn't a lost cause.

"I'd prefer not to," I said slowly and winced, "but yes."

"Interesting," she said. "Stay here."

It wasn't like I was going to go marching out of the room, but I stepped out of her way as she left the office. I turned to look at Mr. Isaiah as he watched her, his brows drawn together but his mouth hidden behind the hand stroking his thick mustache.

"She is…a very interesting woman," he said after a moment, then let out a low chuckle. "Very."

"A lot of guys here are scared of her," I told him with a shrug.

"Hell! I'm scared of her half the time," he said with a laugh, getting up to refill his glass and then swinging around with another in his hand, setting it on the edge of the desk. "Here."

"Uh, sir? We're not allowed to drink," I said carefully. Even though we were in a ‘private' program, we were still technically wards of the state…as felons. We weren't allowed anything like alcohol, and cigarettes were iffy territory, though I still saw plenty of guys smoking.

"Then we'll just make sure no one else knows," he said, tapping the glass. "After that mighty display of balls, you deserve a little something."

"I don't know about that, but," I said and then left off with a shrug. I didn't want to risk insulting the man when I was probably relying on his support, so I scooped up the glass, "here's to you, sir. And the program."

"Why don't we throw in the good men who do the work you do as well?"

"Uh, sure. To the mentors, the program, and you."

It was only a measure of liquor, but it was smooth and rich as it slid over my tongue and down my throat. After a moment, I felt the warmth blossom in my stomach, and a slight shiver ran up my spine. It had been ages since I'd last tasted liquor on my tongue, but none had ever tasted as good as this.

"Damn, is that the stuff you give when people graduate from the program?" I asked, setting the glass down.

"No, the stuff y'all get when you finally get out of here is even better," he said with a chuckle.

"Huh," I grunted. It wasn't like I was an expert when it came to liquors. Bottom-shelf liquors were all I'd ever known, the kind you mixed as heavily as possible.

"That can't be cheap," I said after a moment. "No liquor that good is cheap."

"It's not," he said with a shrug. "But I can afford it. And if that can be my little way of showing support, then why not? Y'all work hard to get to that point. Why not have something nice to enjoy on top of the graduation?"

"It's a nice idea," I said, trying not to think too hard about how much a bottle would cost. Overthinking led down the rabbit hole of what a bottle like that could pay for.

I knew better than to let bitterness get to me or to think too poorly of Mr. Isaiah. I had known people who were way better off than my family, and they came in all varieties. Some were absolute shits, and some were wonderful people, but most of them were just like everyone else, living their lives as best they could. Some were struggling harder than others, but that was life.

"You look like you been keepin' on top of things," Mr. Isaiah said without preamble.

"I…what?" I asked, turning toward him in confusion.

"Last time I saw you was a little while back, and you were lookin' a little…peaked. Been sleepin' better?"

Without thinking, I looked into the glass of the liquor cabinet. The room was lit just right to make out my features clearly in the glass. It wasn't a bad face usually, and it wasn't bad now…and better than the last time Mr. Isaiah had seen me for sure. Then again, he'd seen me coming off a nasty bout of food poisoning.

My reflection mirrored my smile when I remembered Riley once said the resemblance between Max and me was ‘striking.' Max had looked irritated, but he generally did, especially now he'd been saddled with the responsibility of mentoring Riley. Admittedly, it was weird. Max wasn't even in the program anymore, having graduated the first year I was here and had shown no interest in it. Yet there he was, having to watch over Riley, which reeked of Mona's interference.

Still, even if Max didn't want to admit it, there was a strong similarity between us, at least in looks. We were roughly the same height and build, which put us above average and made buying shirts that fit my shoulders a pain in the ass. Our hair was black, but where his was straight, mine tended to curl if I let it grow too near my ears, which I rarely did. His eyes were a strange blue I'd never seen before, and mine were just plain hazel. His features were a little blockier than mine, but we had the same strong jaw and thick brows that people teased me for, giving him an even deeper grumpy expression.

"Well, it helps when I haven't been spending the past couple of days puking my guts out from some bad chicken," I said with a smile.

"True," Mr. Isaiah chuckled. "I forgot about that."

"Not hard to forget, I'm sure. It was a while ago."

"You forget, Mona put Rip in charge of the kitchen. If there's a problem with the kitchen, I get to hear about it. And you should know Rip by now. He's passionate about his job."

That was putting it mildly. Rip was nearing the end of his term in the program, but apparently, early on, he had joined the kitchen staff and thrived. By the time he was a Tier One, he had been considered overdue for his position as head of the kitchen. He'd taken to the position with a dedication that, while impressive, could also be…intimidating. I felt bad for whoever he'd determined had screwed up so badly that a dozen guys had ended up seriously ill.

"So you got to hear all about it, huh?" I asked. "From Rip himself."

"That I did," Mr. Isaiah said with a snort. "Took him almost two hours to wear himself out. I thought our Mona could read someone the business, but boy, Rip has lungs even she could envy."

"What am I envying?" her voice piped up, and I jumped, spinning to find her walking into the room, looking between us.

"Rip's ability to bitch," I said and then closed my mouth when Mr. Isaiah made a choking noise.

"Boy, are you tryin' to get me killed?" he wheezed.

"Cute, Garrett," she snorted. "You don't need these boys thinking you're scared of me. We need them thinking you're still in charge."

"Shit," Mr. Isaiah said with a hearty laugh as he dropped into his seat, slapping his hands on his desk. "Everyone figured out you're behind the wheel of this place, and if they didn't, they will eventually. I know my place here."

Mona stared at him for a moment before rolling her eyes. "We'll talk about your skewed view of your role later."

"Good, something to look forward to," Mr. Isaiah said, sounding like he meant it. Their back and forth came naturally to them, and he clearly had great affection for her. Honestly, if I had someone as capable as Mona running things for me, I'd probably like her a great deal as well. "Now, I see you have something in your hands."

"I do," she said, holding up a folder. "I'm going to ask Leon here a question."

"What's that?" I asked warily.

"Are you still willing to make that bet?"

"Bet?"

"On your candidacy."

"I—"

She said nothing as my voice faltered, glancing nervously between Mr. Isaiah and Mona. Once again, I wondered what was going on in her head. Was this a test, or was she giving me a chance to back down? Mona wasn't…well, okay, she was one to play games. I didn't see her do it often, but it always seemed like she had good reason.

"Well?" she asked, wiggling the folder.

I guess it didn't matter what she was up to. This was down to me, wasn't it? Maybe she was playing a game with me. I could waste time trying to figure out what the game was, but…no. If I was wrong, I would have to see what Mona would do about it.

"Yeah," I said finally, taking a deep breath. "I stand by it…even then."

"Hmph," she said, smirking so diabolically I felt my stomach twist. She held the folder out to Mr. Isaiah, who took it and flipped it open.

I resisted the urge to lean over and catch the words on the page. Not for any moral reason but because I could see Mona watching me, and if she'd wanted me to see it, she would have just handed it over. Instead, she let Mr. Isaiah look, his eyes narrowing as he read…slowly.

After almost a full minute, Mona let out a heavy sigh. "Garrett."

"I'm gettin' there, I'm gettin' there."

"Garrett."

"Christ above," he muttered, setting the folder down and opening a nearby drawer. With a heavy sigh, he pulled out a case, taking the glasses from inside and putting them on. "There, are you happy?"

"There's no point making your eyes worse because your stubborn pride tells you you don't need glasses."

"It's not pride! I just read slower without them."

"Because you can't see. Now, if you wouldn't mind?—"

"Fine, fine," he grumbled.

Standing in this room, listening to them, I was struck by how close their relationship was. It wasn't just warmth he showed her or care she showed him. There was respect and some form of love between them.

Mr. Isaiah closed the folder, set it down, and put his glasses into the case again. "Well, alright then. I see we had the right of it, don't you think?"

The question was directed at Mona with a glance toward me. She gave him a slight nod before sliding onto the edge of the desk. "I know, you told me. Acknowledged."

"You can't win 'em all, but it's good to appreciate a win here and there," he said with a chuckle.

"Am I going to know what you're talking about soon?" I asked, heart still thumping hard.

"No," she said, adjusting her blouse unnecessarily. "But you do get to know that your bet was good. For obvious reasons, I'm not going to go into the details, but that is the transcript of Reno's call from his sister. We'll, of course, have someone manually go over the call to make sure it"s accurate, but we've yet to have a catastrophic failure of the computer system so bad it would have ruined the transcript."

"So…something happened," I said slowly.

"It's difficult to judge just how much effect this…call would have had on someone. But suffice to say, it's safe to judge that it"s significant."

"Sure is," Mr. Isaiah said, patting the desk thoughtfully. "I'll agree to that."

"So, what about Reno?" I asked, knowing full well that having this to back my theory up wasn't the same as being in the clear.

"That…is going to depend on two things."

"Okay, what?"

"How you want to handle it and how he handles that."

That took me by surprise, and I glanced between them. I wasn't surprised that the two seemed to agree, but that didn't help.

"I…me? What about me?" I asked. "Wait, I know I'm his mentor, but?—"

"But nothing. As his mentor, you agreed to take care of him. You agreed to guide him. Now, you had the perfect option to rid yourself of a source of trouble, one who could be an even bigger source of trouble. An option I was willing to follow through before your impassioned defense," she said, looking at me with what I thought might be amusement but didn't feel amused. Lord have mercy. Times like this made me glad I realized I was into men at a young age.

"I…okay, right," I said, feeling out of my element. "Fine, yes. What does that mean?"

"It means you're clearly willing to put yourself on the line to defend Reno. And since you want to defend him, believe in him, then you need to have a plan ready to deal with him."

"That's…kind of a tall order," I said carefully. "I wasn't expecting to have some sort of punishment ready. That's never been a mentor's role."

"Uh-huh, how often have you punished Elliot for his shenanigans?"

"Okay, well," I began and then had to laugh. "Fine. He's definitely been on the receiving end of his fair share of punishments from me. But you try to deal with him every week and see if you don't do the same."

"Are you kidding me? I would have him routinely chained to something. Remember when he tarred and feathered me?"

"Well, it was supposed to be me who got that," I said. I'm sure it had been honey, and I still wasn't sure where he'd found the feathers. I had to appreciate the ingenuity because even as the intended target, I had not been the receiving one. It left me free to feel some measure of pity for him as Mona quickly hunted him down. I still didn't know what that conversation had been like, but Elliot had been terrified of her ever since.

"Not the point. You're capable of handing out punishments," she said.

"Not that we're necessarily looking for punishment," Mr. Isaiah added quickly with unusual graveness. "If Reno is going to stay in the program, though, he needs to understand the gravity of his actions. And that this is his chance to get his act together."

"His last chance, you understand?" Mona said. "He does anything like this again, and he's gone. Back into the system, and we wash our hands of him. It might sound cruel, but?—"

"No," I interrupted softly. "I understand."

On the one hand, the program was to show that people like Reno could be rehabilitated, that it worked, and that punishment wasn't strictly necessary. On the other hand, some people were beyond reach, not just in terms of who the program was allowed to accept.

"If Reno doesn't understand this is his only chance to move on, to do better for himself, then he doesn't deserve to be here," I told them, believing it. "If he throws this last chance back in our faces, I won't say a word when he's removed. And I won't protest when I'm punished either."

Mr. Isaiah chuckled. "Do you seriously believe we'd punish you for that?"

"I mean, I'm responsible for him, aren't I?" I asked with a shrug.

"Jesus Christ," Mona muttered, shaking her head.

"Language," Mr. Isaiah chided her companionably.

"I think he'll forgive me for that one," she said, glancing upwards before shaking her head at me again. "I know we emphasize that becoming a mentor is a big deal and a duty, which is true, but come on now, Leon. You really think I would expect you to chain your fate to another person?"

"You just made it seem like that would happen. I have every right to believe it."

"In the moment, maybe," she scoffed. "One of the biggest points of the program is to show you that you are responsible for yourself. No one else is, and in turn, you're not responsible for anyone else."

I narrowed my eyes, feeling the looming sense of a trap disappearing, replaced by the ugly feeling of being played. "So you tricked me to see if I would stand by what I said, even in the face of danger."

"Tricked is an ugly word, don't you think?" Mr. Isaiah asked, looking a little uncomfortable at the thought.

"But not unfair," Mona said, clearly unbothered by the accusation. "I have my reasons."

"Oh, I'm sure of that," I said with a snort, turning away from her.

I didn't need to know her motivation. And not just because it was obvious she wasn't going to tell me. I knew Mona could be manipulative. I'd seen her do it multiple times, though as far as I knew, she'd never done it to me. What mattered in the end was whether or not I would tolerate it and accept she had my best interest at heart or let it sit in my heart and make me bitter.

"Alright, so Reno needs to understand the gravity of the situation," I said, deciding to make up my mind about how I felt another time. Mona had already proven good at reading and anticipating me while I was right in front of her. I didn't need to give her more to work with if I could help it. "What does that entail?"

"You're going to have to figure that out, now aren't you?" Mona asked, looking amused again. I was beginning to think if she was amused, the people around her typically wouldn't be.

"Okay," I said slowly, knowing it was pointless to look at Mr. Isaiah for help. "When?"

"Well, I think sooner is better than later," she said, dropping off the desk. "So why not now?"

Probably because I wasn't prepared, which she knew full well, but I wasn't going to tell her that. Even if I hadn't decided how cranky I was about being tricked, I was still smarting from it…even as I appreciated the smoothness. With that bit of trickery, she had pushed me to reveal that I believed in Reno, and perhaps that alone was the real factor in determining whether or not she would give him another chance.

I needed to figure out how to get him to understand the full extent, not necessarily just his part. I thought I sensed guilt in his face earlier when Elliot confronted him. What mattered was getting him to understand he could still come back from this, which required him to put in the required effort. Of course, that meant he had to start dealing with people beyond just glaring at them.

"Elliot," I muttered to myself.

"What?" Mona asked. "Oh, yes, I suppose we should deal with him too. Not that he did much other than try to pick a fight. If we punished people for that, we'd have hardly anyone left."

"No, I…" but I stopped, unsure how to explain it. Mona had a good sense of people, but it came from a place of evaluation and measuring. What feel I had for other people came from a wilder, unformed place that was much harder to explain. She'd have too many questions if I started to explain, and I still wouldn't make her understand.

But I had seen how Elliot and Reno interacted, with the former driving the latter crazy half the time…and yet, Reno never lost control. Even when Elliot was the sort to try the most patient person's nerves, Reno did not rank among them. And he had managed to hold onto his calm and almost welcome Elliot's attempts to fight or perhaps…punish him.

And then there was Elliot.

"I think I know what to do," I said, sounding more confident than I felt. Perhaps I might even be able to take a little inspiration to handle things if I did it right.

"Alright," she said, looking curious. "Then let's go see what you've got up your sleeve. I'll mostly be quiet, sitting there to legitimize your words. It's all on you."

"Great," I said, thinking it wasn't all that great. It felt like another one of her tests that might not be tests at all.

"And maybe you can stop by the clinic afterward," she said.

I hesitated as we reached the door. "For what?"

The smile she flashed me was knowing. "Why, to check up on Riley, of course. I'm sure you're curious to see how he's doing."

"I had…planned on it when I had the time," I said slowly.

"I'm sure Reed is taking good care of him," she said casually, walking out the door with a chuckle.

Oh, I could grow to very much dislike that woman.