Chapter Thirty-One

Sami

“Oh. My. God.” Every muscle in my body had gelatinized. No bones or muscles anymore. Nope. Instead, I had Jell-O shaped like bones. But not the good Jell-O cutouts that held their shape like in the commercials when I was a kid. No, these were the ones that you made at home, the ones that never worked out right and slid apart in your hands.

And apparently my brain had joined my bones and muscles because, hello, I’d just had the best sex ever, and I was thinking about Jell-O?

I mentally groaned at myself, except I must have let the sound slip out, because Eric immediately straightened and pulled away from me. The slide of his body leaving mine made me shiver, which didn’t help the whole wobbly-legs thing.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No. God, no. Not at all. My brain’s just off-line. I’m thinking about stupid things, like Jell-O Jigglers.”

“The shapes?” he asked, sounding totally confused, as he should.

“Yeah. Have you ever made them? They never hold together like they were advertised.”

He said nothing for a solid ten seconds. “Oh, shit. Did I break you?”

I giggled. Honest-to-God giggled like an airhead. “You might’ve.”

“Hang on. Let me get something to clean you up.”

No problem. I wasn’t ready to move yet and stayed right where I was, face pressed against the desk, each exhale of my breath clouding the surface. I’m sure I’d left handprints all over it. Possibly boob prints, too.

The thought made me snort with laughter. I could just imagine one of the guys coming in to use a computer and finding Sami boob prints on the desk. I pushed myself up on my arms and…yep. There were two sweaty, globular marks on the shiny top. You’d have to be a monk to not know exactly what they were.

Eric came back with two towels. He handed one to me, then used the other to clean away the evidence on the desktop.

“Aw,” I said as I cleaned myself up and pulled my clothes back on. “I was going to frame those boob prints. Put them up on the wall to remember this.”

He smirked at me over his shoulder. “There will be more boob prints on this desk in the future. Ass prints, too, if I have anything to say about it.”

I didn’t think my sated body could turn on again so soon after the amazing sex we just had, but the erotic promise in his words had me lighting up like a freaking firework.

God. I was defenseless against this man. And if I let myself think too much about that, I was going to freak.

So I took the chicken’s way out—bok, bok—and turned to my computer to check on my searches. No hits yet, but a pop-up indicated the general email just received something.

I opened the email and at first didn’t understand what I was seeing. The picture showed two buttons, one red and one green. The green one said, “the red button is true” while the red one said, “the green button is false.”

I stared at it for a long time, and then everything snapped into sharp, painful focus.

It was a paradox.

You’ll ruin me if I hurt your friends? You already did that, fucker. Now it’s my turn. Better run, Khaos. Cops are coming.

Khaos and Paradox. The former leaders of A.K.A.

I stared at Eric’s back. Glanced at the screen. Then back at him as the pieces fell together and my whole world dropped out from under my feet. My benefactor wasn’t Nomad. He was Paradox.

And Eric was Khaos.

There had been rumors that Khaos was the reason A.K.A. collapsed. He’d flipped on his partner and brought the whole organization down. Including me.

The room spun around me, and every muscle in my body trembled. Eric tucked the towels into a trash bag and was still grinning when he glanced over at me. I watched that grin fade into puzzlement, then concern. I didn’t have a mirror, but I’m sure my complexion had drained of color.

He was across the room in three long strides. “What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t hide what I’d done anymore. This wasn’t about me. It never had been. From day one, Paradox had been grooming me for revenge. Using me as a pawn to hurt Eric. Whether or not I stayed quiet, Paradox was going to do something terrible to him. He needed to know.

I pushed back from the computer. He looked at me, brows drawn tight together, then shifted his attention to the screen. My throat thickened and my lungs locked as he read the email.

“Paradox,” he said on a disbelieving exhale. “Fuck. Paradox is Nomad.”

I was looking at my hands, my hair falling forward to shield my face, but I still knew the exact moment his gaze zeroed in on me. It was like a blast of ice.

“You knew.” It was a statement, not a question. His anger cut into me like a whip. “All along, you knew who was behind these attacks.”

“I didn’t—” I stopped short. No, claiming I didn’t know was a lie, and I was done lying to him. “I didn’t know he was Paradox. Or even Nomad until yesterday. He was an anonymous benefactor. He gave me money when I was released from juvie. I had nothing. No home. No job. I-I took the money knowing it meant I owed him a favor somewhere down the road.”

He released a laugh full of equal parts scorn and incredulity. “And let me guess, he asked you to join HORNET.”

“No!” I reached for his hand but stopped cold at the look in his eyes. “No. I’m here because I wanted this. I’m here because I’m good at what I do and both you and Tucker Quentin noticed. Paradox didn’t demand the favor until I was already here.”

“What did he want?” Bitterness coated the question. “What did you do?”

I gazed up at Eric, hoping to see some hint of forgiveness, but he stared at me with stark betrayal. “He wanted me to open a backdoor into your network.”

Eric swore in a long, creative string. He paced away, then swung back. “Your favor nearly killed Will Campbell.”

“I know.” I hugged myself. I was cold down to the bone, and at that moment, I swore I’d never be warm again. “God, I know. I patched the network right away, but it was too late. He was already in.”

“You should’ve told me sooner.” He jabbed a finger in my direction. “You should’ve told me. What the fuck, Sami?”

Heat burned up my neck and filled my cheeks. I shoved out of the chair, propelled by guilt and my own bubbling anger. He had no right to point fingers. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him. I wouldn’t have gone to juvie, wouldn’t have lost my family, and wouldn’t have needed a benefactor when I got out. I never would’ve taken the money that led to this nightmare. He started this eight years ago. I lost everything because of him.

“You weren’t exactly forthcoming yourself, Khaos.”

He drew a sharp breath like I had landed a solid blow. “Because nobody fucking knows about him. Not my teammates, not Tuc—nobody. To them, I’m Harvard. I buried Khaos years ago. He’s dead.”

I glared at him. “Yeah, well, he wasn’t dead when I got thrown into juvie and everyone else went to prison. No, he became Harvard and kept right on living the good life in the arms of the CIA. Paradox is right to be pissed off. You turned on him. You turned on all of us. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

He glared right back. “I don’t care? I’m not the one who has been lying for the last three months. I’m not the one who has been pretending to be part of a team while plotting death and destruction behind their back.”

“No. That’s not how it happened. I am part of the team and never plotted against them. Yes, I opened the backdoor, but I thought he only wanted access. Nobody was supposed to get hurt!”

“Wanna go to Salt Lake City and tell that to Will? I’m sure he’ll take great comfort in ‘nobody was supposed to get hurt’ as a machine breathes for him.” He stared at me like he’d never seen me before. “You’re quitting Class Alpha and leaving here today, or I will tell Tuc, Gabe, and Quinn everything.”

My heart stopped, and I swear it was a full minute before it started beating again. “I can’t leave. Eric, please, I have nowhere to go.”

“Should’ve thought of that before you tried to fuck with my family.” He gave me his back. “You have ten minutes to pack a bag.”

And he actually did only give me ten minutes. My clothes and bag had been salvaged from my dorm room and smelled like smoke. It clogged the air between us in the old farm truck as he drove me to the airport.

I knew I should say something to break the tense silence. I should reach out. Should apologize. But my own anger kept my jaw locked shut.

He had lied, too.

He’d slept with me, let me fall for him, all the while knowing he’d had a hand in ruining my life. How was that any better than what I had done?

He left me in front of Departures without a word. Just dropped me there and drove away. At a loss, I glanced around at the other travelers. I had money for a plane ticket, but where would I go?

Home? My parents didn’t want me.

My apartment? I’d let the lease lapse a month after arriving in Wyoming, when I was sure I wanted to stay with Class Alpha.

I could go back to San Jose. Find another apartment. Another barista job.

Start over.

A horn beeped twice from the curb, and I gazed up at the familiar van parked in front of me. The side was painted in a swirling galaxy with little depictions of all the greatest sci-fi spaceships scattered throughout. The Millennium Falcon. Starship Enterprise. The TARDIS. Serenity.

That’s what he called his van. Serenity. After the ship from Firefly.

I walked over to the passenger-side window as it slid down. “Adrian?”

“Thought you might need my help,” he said and spread his hands. “So surprise! Serenity and I decided on a road trip.”

“You didn’t need to—”

He waved away my protest. “That’s what friends do.”

I breathed out, the weight of the uncertainty leaving me. I wasn’t alone. At least I still had him. He’d never judged me. He’d always been there for me. He definitely would never drop me off at an airport with no place to go.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

I shook my head. I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t, but the tears balled hotly in my throat and made my next words sound choked. “I was so stupid. So, so stupid.”

“We’ve all been there.” He patted the seat next to him. “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

I dragged my suitcase over and jumped in.

“I’m so glad to see you.” I gave him a hug. “But what are you really doing here?”

He hugged me back. “All right. You caught me. You haven’t answered any of my texts, and I was worried.”

“But—” A thought struck, and I drew back. “Wait. I never told you I was in Wyoming.”

“You didn’t have to.” A slow smile crawled across his face. “Because I put you here.”

No.

Terror clamped icy hands around my throat. I scrambled for the door handle but wasn’t fast enough.

Something hard collided with my temple, and the world spun around me in sickening waves. Pain burst behind my eyes, and my vision flared bright white, then faded to black.

God, I thought as I slipped into unconsciousness. I was naive.