Page 86 of The FBI Agents Who Stole Me

On the desk is a tablet I’ve only seen being used while Julian is reading. I tap it awake.

The data map is open, and I see the last searched location. I set it down and shake the mouse to wake up the big screen. Did I mention I love it? A piece of yellow paper sticks out, and I swipe it from the bottom of the monitor.

A single line of text is written across it in Elliot’s handwriting on a torn piece of paper.

Stay here with Julian. I will finish this.

I read it twice. Then a third time.

But Julian is gone too.

He left me behind. Both of them did. Julian didn’t even say bye before he drugged me a second time. Elliot went off to do what?

They’re out there right now, walking into whatever hell they went to find, because they still think I am the one who needs saving. They should know by now that is not how I play.

Fuck them both.

I shake the mouse, and the screen lights up. My fingers fly across the keys, looking for a clue of what they are doing.

I open a single folder on the desktop with quick, angry clicks. The suicide report, the reframed addiction logs, the closing memo all sit organized on the desktop. It was a mess before. All of it packaged and ready. A full media bundle queued and ready to drop straight to his contact at the Times. Why the fuck would he do that?

My hands go still on the keyboard. He’s going to kill him and send this to the press. Both of them decided I was too fragile, too breakable, too much of a liability to stand with them while they went off to die or disappear for me.

Pure and blinding rage hits me.

I shove the chair back so hard it slams into the wall.

They do not get to make that choice for me.

I open the private server we use to set up poker games and kick Julian out. Not that I think he can check the messages right now, but still.

He’s out. Asshole.

Riley: Damn that’s cold, Lee. What did he do now?

Me: Riley. I’m going to need some help. Can you figure out what the hell Julian is doing?

Me: Cal. Meet me in an hour. Bring all your ninja shit.

Thirty seconds later, Cal replies.

Cal: Yippee-Ki-Yay. Or whatever ninjas say before they start dropping bodies. I’ll bring the new rocket launcher. And the guys.

I stare at the screen for a second then type back.

Me: I need Bash too.

Cal: On it. I’ll bring the Vegas. Who we definitely don’t need for whatever disaster you’re about to start, because I am plenty equipped. Just ask Georgie. But I’ll send out the invite. We can compare rocket launcher sizes. I’m sure Christian will find his inadequately smaller.

Despite everything, I laugh and shake my head.

Riley: I already know where Julian is, and it’s really gonna piss you off. Not sure who can take his place in poker because I think this might be his last day on Earth.

Me: Tell me.

Riley: Eligere. I’ll get him out of it.