Rafe studied him carefully. “NBA to FBI is a pretty big leap. Can I ask what prompted it?”

Something moved in Tom’s eyes, something a little bitter and a lot sad. “I . . . well, I lost someone around the same time. I needed a new start.”

Rafe nodded. He knew what that felt like. He thought of Bella, of what life had been like with her. What his life had been like after she’d been murdered. The utter and debilitating grief. It wasn’t something he’d allowed himself to think about often. It hurt a lot less now that he’d met Mercy Callahan. “Been there, too. My leap was more like a hop, though. I went from Gangs to Homicide.”

Tom held his gaze, his nod understanding. “I was recruited by the Feds at DEF CON, back when I was still in college, but I put them off at the time. My contact kept trying over the years. I heard from him a few months before my injury, asking if I was still interested in the Bureau. I was ready to leave the game anyway, so I told him yes, that I’d be available after the season was over. But then . . .” He gestured at his leg. “I was lucky. I’d recovered enough to pass basic training at Quantico by the time the next class started.”

Rafe’s brows shot up. “DEF CON? The hacker convention?” He’d heard of it but hadn’t met anyone who’d ever attended. At least not that he knew of. Most hackers were very closemouthed about their craft.

“One and the same. I wanted to play basketball, but I knew it wasn’t going to be something I retired from as an old man. My father played for L.A. until he got hurt. He became a college professor, so I guess I grew up knowing there should be options after sports.” Tom hesitated. “I, uh, well, I asked for this interview. With you.”

Rafe’s eyes widened abruptly. “What? Why?”

“I should tell you up front that I know your brother Cash. We went to college together.”

Rafe nodded warily. He remembered that, now that Tom mentioned it. “And?”

“Well, I saw him a few weeks ago. Wrenched my knee running and I knew he was Sac’s team PT, so I made an appointment.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “I knew Cash wouldn’t out me to the Bureau. I didn’t want to be put on . . . y’know. Disability.”

Rafe made a face. “Yeah, I know.” He narrowed his eyes. “You’re the one who recommended the therapist.”

“Yes, I did. I didn’t tell him specifically I was mentioning it for you, but I knew you were still out on DB. I . . . well, Gideon has been a good mentor and he talks about you sometimes. That wasn’t the reason I made the appointment with Cash, you understand. That was purely selfish on my part.”

“But once you were there, you couldn’t resist.” Rafe fought the urge to get up and walk away. Or limp, anyway. Tom Hunter had a sincerity that made it difficult to really be angry with him.