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“I’m better.”
His lips tilted up in the barest of smiles at Zee’s interruption. The confidence in her tone was unquestionable. She set the bar high and exceeded expectations every time.
“Then find me something to say that your mother made those investments with the benefit of her shareholders in mind. Show me that her boating accident was exactly that—an accident—not her suicide to dodge responsibility for mismanagement of investor funds.”
She stood before him, her arms crossed, tapping her foot quietly on the carpet. “What will you do with the evidence I find? Because I will find it. Are you planning on just dismissing it, burying it under the rug, or will you actually present it?”
“I haven’t recorded any of the podcast episodes yet, only a few teasers. Teaching this subject is a prelude to recording. The research needs to be solid. Some sensationalism is part of the appeal of the podcast, but I will expose the truth, even if it’s not the truth I expected to reveal.”
“I’ll hold you to that promise of the truth. I’m sure you’ll change your mind about the sensationalism soon enough.” She stepped forward to stand chest to chest with him. He was a good head taller than Zee, his shoulders twice as wide, but she wasn’t intimidated. She didn’t back down or even give him a hint of vulnerability. When she spoke again, her voice was low and cold. She was utterly terrifying. “Because know this, if you aren’t very careful about what you publish, I’ll ruin you personally and professionally. You have no idea who you’re dealing with, professor. Iwillbreak you.”
She brushed past him, her shoulder connecting with his chest, and I rushed to the door to hold it open for her.
“Flynn, wait,” Professor Reid uttered as Zee stalked out.
“Yes?” I asked with my hand still on the doorknob and facing the door.
“You’re right, I didn’t know.” His voice was sincere. I believed him, but I didn’t trust him. Not yet. He had one heck of an incentive to stick to the truth rather than embellishments; Zee would destroy him. But did he realize just how serious she was? And more importantly, what would this podcast cost her?
“Make sure you keep your end of the bargain,” I warned. “Zee wasn’t kidding. She’s dangerous in ways you can’t even comprehend.”
“She’s brilliant. Beautiful too. The perfect kitten.” At his words, I turned and narrowed my eyes. The effect was probably lost. No one took me seriously when it came to being threatening. I was the dress-up-as-cupid-for-Halloween kind of guy. I couldn’t pull off scary. He stepped forward, closer to me than he was before, and his voice dropped an octave deeper. The professor’s gaze dipped down to my lips before meeting my eyes again. “And you’re the perfect angel,” he breathed, his voice barely a whisper.
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came.
Clearing his throat, he added, “I’m guessing Ms Stephens doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” When he reached around me to take the weight of the door from my grip, I inhaled slowly, breathing in his scent. It was complex, something woodsy and spicy, and want curled low in my belly. I shook my head dumbly, incapable of anything else in that moment. I wanted to be loyal to Zee, I wanted to hate him, but good lord, he was potent. It took everything in me not to reach for him, curl my hand around his nape, and crash my lips to his.
Four
Ezra
M
y phone was propped between my shoulder and ear as I spoke to Roe. He was one of my closest friends; a decade of sport, beer and being mutual sounding boards would do that. “Sure,” I agreed. “Tonight works. I’ll be home by 7:00 p.m, so I can swing by after I get changed.”
“Pizza or Chinese?”
“Either. Surprise me. I’ll bring the beer.” The catch-up to watch the cricket would either be a welcome chance to unwind after a shitty afternoon, or the exhale after spending the day on edge. Whiskey would have been better than beer, but I needed to be able to drive home.
“A’right, mate. See you then,” he agreed. We said our goodbyes, and I went back to waiting on tenterhooks.
I’d been on edge all day. It was Tris’s first class, and Zali and Flynn would figure out why I was so insistent on them enrolling. It was a good thing that he’d opened the subject to non-university students, or I would have had a harder time nudging them together. A perverse part of me wished I were a fly on the wall during the class. The rest of me wished I could have protected Zali from ever having to go.
But her participation was necessary. If that podcast ever went to air—and Tris had some seriously monied-up backers pushing for it to be recorded—it would destroy Zali and her dad. But of all the contacts I had at my disposal, there wasn’t a single cyber investigator who I could trust with this assignment. None of them were as good as Zali, and this needed to be handled once and for all.
The only way I could protect her was to throw her in the lion’s den.
I should have prepared her. I should have given her the brief I’d compiled on her mother years ago. But it was all speculation. There were even fewer facts supporting my theory than there were in Tristan’s research. My gut told me there was more to the way she’d died than an accident. It had to have been suicide, but the marine safety officers disagreed, advising the coroner that the fire was likely accidental.
Then there was Tris’s research grant application. Funding had been refused, but the project had been picked up by a private investor. I couldn’t see who’d signed off on the approval or who’d donated the funding, not by using official channels, and Tris was largely in the dark too. The only contact he’d had was with the investor’s attorney who was acting strictly per their principal’s instructions. There was no way of accessing who that principal was. That was why I needed Zali involved.
She was only eight at the time of her mother’s death. She either didn’t remember the bad press and the angry investors demanding their money be refunded, or her parents had shielded her from it well enough that she genuinely didn’t know. I’d met her a few years after the accident, and by that stage, she was an adult in a thirteen-year-old’s body who had a chip on her shoulder, a talent behind a keyboard that most people would give their left nut for, and a ton of sass.
Bringing all that up now and making her live through it was tough, but it would do more harm than good if I kept shielding her from Tris’s research.
Putting her in his class at least meant that I had a fighting chance of Zali proving Tris was barking up the wrong tree.
As much as I wanted to tell her about his research, doing so would have backfired. She would have found a way into the university’s system and shut it down, deleting every record of it on her way.
