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had left to convince them to allow him to stay in a decent hotel for the past few nights and after last night’s incident, he was likely doomed to return to awful accommodations if he left it to them. No. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, go on with so little control over his situation.
    This act, hiring a person with a vested interest in keeping him safe, was his way of taking control back. And preserving his sanity.
    Kyle crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall. When Isabelle’s gaze returned to him, he addressed her, “I’m open to whatever expertise you’d like to share.”
    Her brows drew together. “Protecting you is our business now. Per the contract, you follow my instructions. You don’t and you’re exposed. Maybe dead, if your concerns are correct. I still get paid. But I prefer for my clients to survive and be referenceable.”
    He noted she didn’t say her clients had to be happy and chuckled. “At least our preferences are in alignment.”
    Tiny muscles in her jaw tightened beneath her smooth skin and irritation flared in her dark eyes as she caught the innuendo. He was pricking her temper. It was probably not a good idea, but too often he was extremely entertained by indulging bad ideas. Riling up Isabelle Scott was going to be an exceedingly fantastic bad idea.
    “I’m going to need some time to talk with the marshal and officers here.” She lifted her chin in the direction of the still-seated escorts. “Then I’ll decide what changes you’re going to need to make.”
    That stopped him. They’d already taken him from his home and halted his search for employment. His life was on hold for this trial. “What changes?”
    “Depends on what you’ve been doing up until now.” Isabelle shrugged. “Then we alter your pattern.”
    Kyle opened his mouth to ask more but Diaz rose in a smooth economy of motion. “I’ll take Mr. Yeun to my office to finish signing. You can pick him up there.”
    Isabelle nodded.
    “Now just wait a minute.” Kyle wrestled with his own anger, an unfamiliar feeling. “This is going to go in accordance with—”
    “No, Mr. Yeun, it’s not.” Isabelle’s flat statement cut over him before he could gain momentum. “If you want me protecting you, then you are not calling the shots. I’m the expert in this. Not you. And I intend to use my expertise to keep you safe. That includes not allowing you to run around leading the rest of us by the wallet. You are not the person in charge from the moment you sign that contract.”

Chapter Four
    Think tank, that was what these new offices were supposed to be.
    At the moment, Lizzy wanted to curl up in one of the hidden quiet cubbies and block out the rest of the world.
    Okay, there were only a few of those cubbies tucked away behind the main office area and they were specifically for employees who became too overloaded too fast to take themselves home or someplace quieter. The cubbies weren’t just equipped with white noise. They were designed to give a person solitude, time to get their shit together, before they lashed out and became a danger to the people around them.
    Friends and family were safer when the Centurions had an environment to handle those moments.
    The missions they’d gone on overseas and the combat situations they’d seen left their mark. Lizzy was no different. And they were all good to go as long as they had the means to see to their own sanity. Call it self-care. Call it mental management. Whatever. It worked and this was one of those places designed with their particular histories in mind.
    A normal, civilian workplace might have quiet spots or they might not. But the people around them wouldn’t necessarily understand.
    Sometimes ex-military returned home and made new lives for themselves. They remade themselves and put their experiences in the past. Others didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t. Whatever. So they went into the private sector, joined organizations like the Centurion