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Cole’s mouth settles into a grim line. “I am taking this seriously. I can be flippant or I can rage. Your choice.”
I lean back on the mirrored wall as the elevator descends. Cole on a rampage isn’t exactly on my list of things that will make this situation better. His anger is understandable, even if that’s not the emotion I’m struggling with.
Cole is angry. Nolan is devastated. Vaughn is worried about bringing another black mark on his family. I’m…something else.
When I learned the ledger was missing, I immediately got down to the business of dealing with the mess. But anger isn’t the emotion that I’m fighting. Anger isn’t the reason that I’m struggling to focus on what we should do next.
What I feel is…relief.
And that’s even scarier.
Without the ledger, any chance of the Initiation happening goes up in proverbial flames. All this ends with a whisper instead of going off like a bang. It would all be over. My father will bluster and rage, but he won’t be able to overrule the other alumni. He might threaten to cut me off financially, but that won’t change anything. Maybe he’ll even remember that I’m his only shot at any sort of legacy.
Then I can just walk away.
The prospect practically makes me lightheaded.
“You really think we’re going to figure this out?” Cole asks, eyeing me from across the elevator.
His voice startles me back into the present. He has to repeat himself before I’m able to formulate an answer.
“I don’t think we have a choice if we want the Initiation to happen.”
“If we want it to happen,” Cole repeats darkly. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
Instead of responding, I just stare at him with a carefully blank expression. It’s the same mask I wore for years until an avenging angel slapped me hard enough to crack it. But I can still use that ability to shut down when the situation calls for it.
The elevator door opens with a ding. A barely lit hallway made of concrete stretches out in front of us. This area is only for employees and it shows. All the thought and care that went into beautifying the hotel abruptly stops here. I wouldn’t have been able to find the security office this easily if I didn’t already know where it was.
“It means what the fuck it means.”
Cole’s steps are nearly silent on the concrete floor as he follows me out of the elevator. We walk by an open laundry room full of cycling washers. The stink of bleach wafts through the air, making my eyes water. A woman in a maid uniform hunches over a pressing machine, her face lost in a cloud of steam as she irons a sheet. She doesn’t even look up as we walk by.
“I don’t have to wonder what will happen if I scrub out of Havoc House,” he muses from a few steps behind me. “No Havoc House means no references for my application to Yale Law. No Havoc House means no clerkship with one of the alumni serving in federal court. Might even have been a supreme court justice if I made a big enough name for myself in law school. No Havoc House means my entire life is about to go up in smoke.”
I risk a glance at his face, and don’t like what I see. “We all have shit riding on this, man.”
“Some of us have more shit than others.” His hands ball into fists at his sides. The stoically playful persona he shows the world cracks to pieces. “If we don’t get that ledger back, I won’t be responsible for what I do. Or who I do it to.”
“Relax. We’re figuring it out.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know that’s the wrong thing to say.
He punches the wall just inches from my head. His fist collides with enough force that chips of paint rain down from the wall. “That’s not fucking good enough.”
“Breaking your damn hand won’t help anything,” I calmly inform him.
My gaze moves to the laundry room, but the housekeeper doesn’t come out. Probably figures she doesn’t get paid enough to deal with whatever this is. “If getting mad helps, fine. But keep your shit together so you can help me or go back to the room and wait.”
“I got it,” Cole bites out through clenched teeth. “After you, Mr. President. Better hope you 're worthy of that damn title today.”
His glare bores into the back of my head as I turn away. I refuse to be intimidated, but I still keep an awareness of him on the periphery as I stride down the hallway. Cole outweighs me by about thirty pounds of muscle, and he is angrier than a caged gorilla. If he lets all that rage get the better of him and we fight, things will get bloody fast. I might take him, but he’ll make me work for it. Whoever loses won’t be getting off the floor without medical intervention, while the winner will be lucky if they get to walk away at all.
The better option is just to find the damn ledger.
The security office is at the end of the hallway. Blue light from television monitors glow around the cracks of an unassuming wooden door.
I reach for the knob, sparing Cole a narrow-eyed glance. “Give me a minute.”
The office is no bigger than a utility closet. A bank of monitors fills the back wall and a tiny desk is pushed up in front of them with just enough space at it for one person to sit. The burly guy who hunches over the computer is big enough that I can’t see past him to the screen.
