Now, this was the real trick.
He focused on the table to his right first, ordering the shield to open up and swallow it, together with the chairs. Then, keeping a piece of his mind focused on the right, he turned to the left and did the same with the second table. It held. For a few seconds, the shield stayed in place, until the resistance became too much, and Dave let it go.
Except, he must have done something wrong, because it didn’t dissipate into nothingness, like before. It had been just a little nudge, a fleeting command to go, but he realized his mistake too late.
The shield broke into a thousand shards and shot through the air, bumping into a few fighters as it went.
Dave froze—and dropped his gaze a heartbeat before they turned to stare at him, their expressions perplexed. It shouldn’t have been more than a tap on the back, and this made it all the more surprising.
They got back to their meals, and Dave got up and left, keeping his eyes down.
He took the elevator up to the fifth floor, thinking about what he’d discovered last night. His mood soured at the thought that Peter was lying to him, together with Rooney and God knew who else. He thought about skipping work today and going down to the infirmary instead, maybe dragging Chad out to the pool, but he was already pushing the door open, and there—
Dave halted, staring at Rooney’s unlocked screen, with the man himself nowhere in sight.
“Dave, that you?” Rooney’s voice reached him from the bathroom.
“Yeah,” Dave answered after a pause.
“I got nothing for you today—might wanna take a day off.”
“Uh-huh.” Dave stared at the laptop screen.
Because in the bottom right corner, a message had popped up, and it wouldn’t have caught Dave’s eye, if not for the subject: Re: Recorp Holdings.
Before Dave could grasp what he was doing, he opened the email, his eyes widening at the long chain of messages that had started a day ago. And attached to the very first one was a file titled Recorp Holdings property.
Watching his hands move as if they weren’t his own, Dave clicked Forward and typed in his personal email, then clicked Send. Rooney would be in the bathroom for a while, or he wouldn’t have yelled through the door and would’ve waited until he was back.
Dave’s heart beat like a drum as he marked the latest email as unread and switched the folder to Sent, where he deleted the email he’d forwarded. When he stepped away from the laptop, everything was as it had been before, except the notification, which would’ve disappeared eventually anyway.
Dave looked around the room, belatedly remembering to watch out for cameras, but there were none here. It was just a temporary workplace.
He breathed out and turned to his desk, before he realized that Rooney had let him go, and he wouldn’t want to open that file on this computer anyway. Rooney probably had access to it at any time. I got nothing for you, my ass, Dave thought as he quietly opened the door and left the room. The hacker had had a whole day to tell Dave they finally had the info they needed, and he’d chosen silence.
Dave ran up the stairs once again, this time heading to his room so he could use his personal laptop. He had no idea what exactly was in the file, but something told him it would be better than sifting through meaningless data all day, like the day before.
And if Rooney somehow found out about the email… Dave wasn’t even sure he cared about the consequences.
* * *
Jane awoke from her nap and went still at the strange sensation—someone was stroking her hair, slow, light touches running down her back and up again. Tingles spread over her skin, and she let out a sigh, cracking one eye open.
Ryan’s arm froze mid-motion over her. She realized she’d dozed off while watching some documentary film, the two of them squeezed into Marco’s enormous recliner. The film was over, silence filling the room. Silence, and Ryan’s measured heartbeats.
His hand lowered to rest on her back. He hadn’t left her side since the night Pain got shot, and while they hadn’t spoken much, at least he wasn’t acting weird anymore. She’d grown used to his quiet presence, the weight of his arm around her, the calm he radiated at all times.
Except now. Because even without looking at him, she could feel the tension, the movement of his chest strained, heavy, as he breathed underneath her.
“Was there ever anything between you and Dave?” he asked all of a sudden.
She blinked. Not just at the words but at his tone, flat, the question barely there.
Jane rubbed her eyes, wondering if she was still asleep, then remembered she had mascara on and stopped. She twisted to look at Ryan.
“What?”
His glassy gaze turned to her, slow, as if not quite awake. “You and Dave. Did you ever—”
“No. What—why are you asking?” She frowned, propping herself up on her elbow.
Ryan blinked and lifted one shoulder, as if unsure himself. “No reason. Just… go back to sleep.” He attempted to pull her down, but she shook her head.
“I don’t want to sleep. Who told you that?”
“No one.” The answer came too fast. His gaze cleared a little, but still, he looked strange. Almost… defeated.
She opened her mouth, but before she could say a word, he started talking. His eyes gazed off into space, his voice low, emotionless, “I never realized it, until he and Chad showed up.
