Behind her, Sara folds her arms, and I look over when she glances back long enough for our eyes to catch, half a second, maybe less, but it hits harder than any argument we’ve had.
“Why do you need this anyway, Liam?”
Before I can answer, Artemis straightens. “Here.” She hands Damien the drive. “Some of it is messy, but you’ll figure it out.”
Damien takes it, holding onto her hand, and I roll my eyes. “Appreciate it.”
Damien pockets the drive, still watching her like she’s another kind of puzzle.
“Tell your grandfather thanks,” I say.
Artemis smirks. “Tell him yourself next time. I’m not your secretary.”
Sara looks back at me, her voice calm but razor thin. “Do you have what you came for?”
It lands like a shove out the door, and I almost drag her back with me to give her a lesson for talking to me like this.
“Yeah,” I say instead. “We’re done.” And I see a glimpse of a sting in the tone of my voice.
We start for the door, and behind me, Damien throws over his shoulder. “Nice meeting you, goddess.”
Artemis calls back, “Don’t get lost in your own mythology, tattoo boy.”
Outside, the air feels heavier. I glance once through the glass and Sara’s still by the window, staring out at the water, pretending I was never here.
“She hates you,” Damien says, almost cheerfully at his observation, which is quite obvious.
I shove my hands into my jacket pockets. “You don’t say.”
“I guess you got her to keep quiet,” he continues, because Damien never stops when he should. “And the other one, Artemis, I’ll be losing sleep over that face for a while. I’ve seen her around, but I never talked to her before. About fucking time! Woohoo!” He jumps with his fist in the air like a moron.
“You lose sleep over anything that moves.”
“Maybe. But you—” He glances sideways, eyes narrow. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks. Tell me you’re not still playing watch outside of her house? Hire someone!”
I take the steps two at a time, boots hitting hard. “I’m firing the guy who’s there right now, who assumes she’s cooped up inside her house — and drop it.”
He whistles low. “So that’s a yes, you’re playing watch.”
Across the street, gulls circle the masts in the port. I should think about the Velastra, about the drive in my pocket, abouthow close we’re getting to whoever’s running this network. But all I can see is the reflection of her in the window, refusing to look back.
Damien slaps my shoulder. “You know what they say, man. The ones you can’t save always stick the longest.”
“Is that what they say?” I walk toward the bike. “And the ones you shouldn’t want, shouldn't chase, and stay away from?” I ask.
“They stick harder.”
“Yup.” I chuckle with depressing mirth. We step over our bikes and bring the engine to roar to life, drowning out the rest of my thoughts.
Twenty-Two
Liam
Sitting on my bike for three hours and chewing on a sandwich helps. After firing that moron and actually seeing Sara home from Artemis’s grandfather’s office, I feel somewhat more coherent. I don't miss the novelty of feeling like a private eye and creeping on her home with the subtlety of a horny coyote.
Her front door creaks open, and I get a little excited at the idea of seeing her, even if it’s for her to unleash her wrath on me. Her anger is better than this silence between us.
My pulse quickens when Sara’s figure steps out in a Nirvana baggy T-shirt and denim shorts, her dark ponytail dancing and brushing her shoulders, and I imagine it wrapped around my wrist, fucking her from behind. She’s so fucking beautiful.
