Deadline

—”

I snorted. Talking Points is a lousy site, and they have a reputation for editing reports to match the requests of the highest bidder. Giving them an exclusive was sort of like buying a commercial slot during prime time: a great use of your money, but a terrible abuse of the truth.

Alaric narrowed his eyes. “Mind if I continue?”

“Sorry.” I waved my mug in his direction. “I’m all ears. No more interruptions, I promise.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Alaric muttered, before continuing: “He repeated the lab accident story and added a cute little ‘maybe if they hadn’t somehow wandered into a secure area, they wouldn’t have been forced to use the emergency access tunnels’ rider, trying to make it look like you and Becks had been negligent, or worse, trespassing.”

“How did we answer that?”

“Mahir uploaded your footage, sans dialogue, of everything from the director leaving you in the conference room to the lights going out. Time stamps visible for the entire thing. If you were someplace you weren’t supposed to be, it was because the director left you there.”

“Remind me to give that man a raise.”

“How about you get the rest of us out of the line of fire, first?” Alaric’s tone was harsh, verging on nasty. I’d never heard him talk to anyone like that before. Not even after the time I broke his nose for suggesting that my ongoing need to talk to George was a sign of mental illness. I know it’s a sign of mental illness; I knew it then, too. I just think the alternative to going crazy is even worse.

I put my mug down, frowning as I studied Alaric. He looked tired, but that wasn’t really a surprise. We all looked tired, and with good reason. “Dude, what’s going on? Did somebody decide to piss in your cereal or something?”

“I’m just not sure you have your priorities straight anymore. That’s all.” Alaric looked at me steadily, lips firming into a thin line. “It’s not like any of us can quit at this point, is it? Not when they’re blowing up buildings to make us stop poking at things.”

“What, and you think that’s my fault?” I waved an arm toward the front door. “I didn’t ask the Dochow up, and they started shooting at us as soon as they had a bead on where she was, remember? You cannot pin that one on me, Alaric. You want to be pissed off at somebody, I recommend her.”

“She brought us a hook into the greatest conspiracy of our generation! You just want it to be about revenge! It’s not all about you, Shaun. It’s never been all about you. You’re not the only one being lied to, and you’re not the only one who’s lost people. I guess I’m just getting tired of you acting that way.”

I blinked. “I… what?”

“You heard me.”

“I never said this wasn’t everybody’s fight.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

I slammed my hand down on the table hard enough to make the coffee slosh over the lip of my mug. Alaric jumped. “Dammit, Alaric, this is not the time to play pissy bitches. What the fuck is bothering you? Did you get trolled on the message boards? Is your revenue share down? Do you not like the guest room you’re in? What?”

“Was there a particular reason Rebecca came down the stairs this morning looking like she hadn’t slept, and ran out of here the second she was given the opportunity to do so?” You could have used the edge on his voice to cut steel. Closing his laptop with one hand, Alaric continued: “You were asleep at the time. That may be why she left so quickly. Avoiding an unpleasant encounter.”

“Oh, crap.” Any relief I might have felt at hearing that I wasn’t going crazier—Becks and I really did have sex—was destroyed by the realization that I’d hurt her in the process. I put a hand over my face, resting my elbow on the table. “Oh, fuck.”

“That was what I assumed you’d been doing.”

“Alaric, man—” I raised my head, looking at him. He was still glaring at me. That was fine. I felt like glaring at myself. “How upset was she?”

“I’m not sure, really. She wasn’t exactly in the mood for handing out details.”

That was one I owed her. Two, if you counted the monumental apology I was going to be making as soon as she got back. “I guess not. Look, Alaric, I never meant for any of that to happen, I swear. I wasn’t trying to get her into bed, and I sure as hell wasn’t trying to hurt her once she was there.”

“I know.” He sighed, deflating somehow as he looked down at the table. “I know she likes you. I’ve known for ages. I just kept hoping she’d see that you weren’t interested. That she had better options available. But it was like she couldn’t see anything but the fact that you were playing hard to get.”

“I wasn’t playing,” I said softly. This sort of thing was easier to handle when George was around. She was always the one who noticed when girls started crushing on me, and she made them go away. One way or another. I’d never tried to deal with this sort of situation on my own before. “I really wasn’t.”

Alaric laughed. It was a short, dry sound, utterly devoid of humor. “The tragedy of all this is that I know. If you’d been playing, she might have gotten over you faster.”

“I’ll apologize.”

“You’d better.” He stood, taking his laptop with him. “We can’t afford to be at each other’s throats right now.”

“No, we can’t,” I said bleakly, and watched as he turned and walked out of the room. Once he was gone I let my head fall to the table, forehead knocking gently against the wood. “Fuck, George. How do I get myself into this shit?”

Leaping before you look, mostly. It’s always been your biggest weakness. Her laugh was superficially similar to Alaric’s, all sharp, hard edges, but there was amusement there, too. The sort of amusement that comes right before the execution. That, and me, anyway.

“Oh, thank God.” I sat up and sagged backward in the chair, closing my eyes. “You scared the crap out of me.”

You needed some time to think.

“Yeah, and look how much good that did me. Now Becks is pissed, which means Maggie’s going to be pissed, too, and Alaric thinks I’m an asshole.”

Well, you sort of are. I told you to be careful with her.

“How was I supposed to know she was going to jump me in the bathroom?”

I love you, but there are times when I really don’t understand the way your brain works. She’s been getting ready to jump you for a while now. All the signs were there.

“Why would I know what the signs were, George? I never had to read them before.”

She sighed. True enough. You shouldn’t have called her by my name, Shaun. This is going to complicate everything.

“I know. Now what am I supposed to do about it?”

She didn’t have an answer for that one.

Maggie’s van pulled up half an hour later. I heard doors slamming in the driveway, and then, like magic, the kitchen was full of women with arms full of groceries, covering every flat surface with brown paper sacks. I was still at the kitchen table, although I’d exchanged my coffee for a can of Coke. The acidic sweetness of it was actually pleasant for once; the fact that I was drinking it meant that George was speaking to me again. That was worth doing a little damage to my tooth enamel.

Becks cast a wounded look in my direction as she dropped her armload of grocery bags onto the stove. Then she fled out the back door, vanishing in the direction of the van. I winced and stood. “Aw, hey, Becks, hang on a second—”

“Freeze,” said Maggie, in an amiable tone.

I froze.

“Kelly, why don’t you g'0em' widtd get Alaric. Tell him we need help unloading the van.” Maggie’s voice stayed pleasant, but there was an edge to it that made arguing with her seem like a seriously bad idea. Kelly