Yeah, right.
I barely stop myself from scoffing.
Without taking his eyes off of Lane, Harrison asks, “Cason, was there anything else we needed to discuss?”
“Nope,” I say, popping thep. “And it’sCase.” I start heading for the elevator, flashing a smile over my shoulder at Harrison. “I’ll be in touch, Doc.”
As I near Lane, I decide he looks more sad than angry. I don’t like that. Harrison said he’s had to keep his distance from him for his safety, giving him a lie about not wanting to be with him.
Total asshole. But I get it.
That’s why I’m here to fix it.
Unfortunately, Lane clearly believes the lie. He could use some cheering up.
I stop in front of him and tilt my head, letting my gaze shamelessly rake over his body. “Nice to meet you, Lane,” I tell him, making my voice as sultry as possible.
I’m not sure it worked. I’m a bit out of practice. But Lane’s cheeks turn a little pink, so I’ll call that a win.
“Cason,” Harrison growls behind me. “Leave, please.”
A definite win.
Call me a fucking romantic. I just want to see people be happy together, even if I have to give them a reason to be jealous so they pull their heads out of their asses.
“Well, he’s frightening, isn’t he?” I whisper to Lane as I pass by him.
I press the button for the elevator, and I’m grateful it doesn’t take long for the doors to open so I don’t have to stick around and find out what happens next. It might be a good thing they have two hours before the cameras are up and running.
As I take the elevator down, I try not to think about silver eyes or gunshots or anything at all except surveillance and encryption protocols.
Normal.
Normal is working jobs that pay too well for having few lines I won’t cross. Normal is building something that can erase a person from the inside out. Normal is pretending that when it’s done, I’ll be done too.
Sure, everything is normal.
I’m back at mydesk before midnight with a rather large thermos of piping hot coffee. Felix has already judged me for being late, eaten, and is now loafed directly in front of my keyboard like a furry paperweight.
“Move.”
He blinks slowly.
I adjust my glasses and stare at him. “Should I report you for obstruction of justice?”
He yawns.
“Unbelievable. I rescue you from a storm drain, and this is the loyalty I get.”
He doesn’t move.
I sigh and scoot him two inches to the left. He allows this with the long-suffering patience of someone who knows he owns the apartment, strutting over to the edge of my desk where he plops right back down.
The screens glow in front of me—lines of code, network maps, simulations. A web of connections that look less like infrastructure and more like a nervous system. I lean back,cracking my knuckles.
Two birds, one stone.
If I do this right, I can destroy two enemies.
