Chapter 51

JUSTIN

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I head home, controlling the bike’s speed, mindful of the fact Heather is following me.

My mind drifts to our kiss, to the heat that swept through me at the unexpected feel of her in my arms. She fit perfectly.

It unnerves me how quickly I forgot the kiss was for show.

I picked up she was inexperienced and nervous, but that uncertainty must have lasted all of ten seconds before she stopped thinking and started reacting.

I felt a man’s triumph afterward at the stunned look on her face, the wonder in her eyes. A triumph that’s not without self-censure. Better apply some brakes here, I tell myself. I don’t want to put dreams in her eyes and plans in her head.

I shift into a more comfortable position on the bike, fighting the fatigue dragging at me.

With back-to-back gym appointments on Saturday and Sunday, I had a busy weekend.

The best part about it, though, was watching Werner’s Science and Health University cope with the fallout from Thursday’s raid.

On Friday, I released a statement, along with incriminating photographs and an edited five-minute video, to above ground sympathizers who then distributed it all to various media outlets.

It’s an AFD publicity coup and a PR shambles for the university.

I found out from my informant—as I predicted, hailed a hero for rescuing a colleague from the terror of a broom closet—that the university, as well as the sponsors of the experiment, are scrambling to justify the nicotine studies.

The tracheotomy beagles were moved to a hidden location on campus, but sympathy for the beagles is running high and the sponsors are under pressure to cancel the experiment and release the dogs to an animal welfare charity.

Surprisingly, the majority of the press coverage is in AFD’s favor, with reporters calling us animal activists who are daring, committed, and uncompromising. The fact that we were careful not to hurt anyone during the raid counts in our favor.

I finally met with Kane Sunday night, where I endured a twenty-minute dressing down. I forced myself to accept Kane’s tongue-lashing with a contrite expression, knowing I have to shoulder some heat for overstepping the line. The penitent approach worked and Kane eventually ran out of steam.

I realize too that Kane’s tirade stems from the very real fear that such a hastily put together operation increases the risk of all of us landing up in prison.

Luckily, Joel’s involvement calmed some of Kane’s anger, leading him to grudgingly concede the operation’s success.

More importantly, Kane hasn’t pulled me from the SolomiChem assignment.

Heather still has to report to me, and that’s the way I want it.

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