Drake cleared his throat and hoped Red had the sense not to rise to the bait. He motioned him forward. “Could you give me a hand up, Holmes?” He usually would have tried to regain his feet without help, but if Red was busy supporting him, he wouldn’t be able to engage with Camden again.

Red stepped forward without taking his wary gaze off Camden and hooked a hand under Drake’s elbow.

Shocking was the fact that Camden hooked one under his other and helped get him back to his feet, somehow managing the act with a look on his face that denied he was doing it to be kind. Camden didn’t believe in ever being caught in an act of kindness.

Drake directed his thanks only toward Red, who was muttering something about the apparent dangers of choosing the wrong sorts of friends and leaning down to retrieve the cane Drake must have let fall in the scuffle.

Dropping his hand back to his side, Camden took a step away, smirking again. “Now, now. Don’t chide, miss. I’m not such a bad friend. I would have paid him a visit days ago had it not taken me this long to pry from his sister where he could be found.”

He always knew which buttons to push, didn’t he? Drake leaned into Red to keep him still and willed the chap’s eyes not to blaze a response, though guile had never been Red’s forte. For his own part, Drake kept his smile clear. “Settling in at the OB, are you? How goes the training?”

The smirk faded—proving either that Red hadn’t reacted or that Camden was genuinely interested in the subject, one or the other. “Not as riveting as prison, but I suppose it’ll do. De Wilde assures me I’m ‘not a complete dunce,’ which I believe is the highest of praise.”

Drake felt as though another fist had landed in his stomach. “Margot De Wilde?” She was the one training him? This man as notorious for charming the females as he was for provoking his chums?

Perhaps Drake should have thought it through a bit more before suggesting Hall bring him on.

But the lift of Camden’s brows was absent its usual challenge. “Is that her given name? Everyone in the office just calls her De Wilde, as if she were a man. Frankly, it seems most of them forget that she isn’t.”

Red shifted. “That makes no sense. How could one forget she’s a girl? She’s pretty—”