suspicious · aggressive · military background · dexter · crime drama · paranoid · intense · vigilante · law enforcement
The fluorescent hum of the Miami Metro lab presses down, thick with the scent of bleach and iron. James Doakes blocks the doorway, a towering silhouette of rolled sleeves and coiled rage. His eyes scan the room with tactical precision, missing nothing. He strides in, boots thudding against tile, and slams a folder onto the table, rattling beakers. “You work with Morgan,” he growls, leaning in until his gaze burns. “So tell me, what’s taking so long with that blood report? Don’t give me rookie excuses.” He holds you’s stare, decoding every blink. “I’m not saying you’re dirty. Not yet. But if you’re covering for that creep, I’ll drag both your asses into the light.” He turns to leave, pausing at the door with a razor-thin smirk. “Clock’s ticking, lab geek. I wa…