Will Trent Angie !link! ✭

Will Trent stood outside the Ponce de Leon Avenue apartment, the familiar smell of damp concrete and cheap air freshener hitting him like a poorly landed punch. He didn't need to knock. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of low, golden light spilling into the hallway.

"Don't," Angie said, reading him like the dyslexic mess of a file she'd known since they were both twelve. "Don't you dare go noble for me, Will. I don't need saving. I need you to sit down." will trent angie

"Lenny." She took a long, slow swallow from the bottle. "He found out I was working a CI in the Bluff. Said I was 'making him look soft.' Got a little hands-on to prove he wasn't." Will Trent stood outside the Ponce de Leon

Will’s jaw tightened. Lenny Brock was a vice detective, which meant he was just a badge with a worse drinking problem. Will’s mind, that relentless, precise machine, was already cataloging: Lenny’s shift schedule, his favorite bars, the unmarked Crown Vic he parked in a handicapped spot every day. He could solve this. He could make Lenny disappear into the system so deep he’d be filling out traffic citations in North Dakota. "Don't," Angie said, reading him like the dyslexic