Chapter Thirty-One #2
“You did. I just have a more detailed understanding of him.”
Her expression flickered with pain, then sarcasm. “And?”
“I understand enough to know that he was set up.” I stepped closer. “This was deliberate. They wanted to control him, but they couldn’t.”
Her eyes went dark and steady. “Welcome to my world.”
“Jo.” I let her name sit between us. “This battery could redefine energy access. Whole communities could go off-grid for decades. People who’ve never had stable power would finally getting it without begging corporations for scraps.”
“Yeah,” she said, voice tight with pride and grief. “That was the plan.”
“Some very powerful people will see this as a threat.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.
” She blew out a breath and shoved a hand through her hair, dislodging the screwdriver.
It clattered to the floor. “Why do you think I’ve been hiding?
They put him in prison for trying to give people that kind of freedom.
What do you think they’ll do if they realize I figured out where he left off? ”
“They’ll try to stop you,” I said. “Any way they can.”
“Exactly.” She smoothed her hands over her knees. “So until I know exactly what I have and how to release it without getting everyone I love killed, I don’t get to screw up. Not even a little.”
No drama. Just truth.
“Can I ask you something?”
She sighed. “You’re going to anyway.”
“This.” I nodded toward everything. “What keeps you going? And your father? You could have sold out, made a fortune and been household names.”
Her jaw tightened, but she let it go. “When I was a kid,” she said, “my dad brought me to the lab when it was safe. He’d sit me in a corner with a notebook and tell me to learn, not just the process but about the way the world works.
There are two kinds of people in rooms like that,” she continued.
“The ones who want to save the world, and the ones who want to rule it.” Her voice softened.
“When you’re working on something that could matter, you get these moments where you feel small and huge at the same time.
Like if you do your job right, people you’ll never meet will live better.
Not because you were brilliant, but because you showed up.
” She looked at me. “That’s addictive, Nate.
You can’t unfeel it. But then the other kind of person shows up, and you can either become like them, or you can start over. ”
I didn’t accept that those were the only two options, but it wasn’t a point that needed to be discussed. . . it was the type that needed to be proven. “I’ve made a lot of money,” I said quietly.
“I know.”
“But I’ve never done anything that mattered like what you’re doing.”
She tilted her head. “Yet.”
I liked that so I repeated the word in agreement. “Yet. I doubt I’ve ever been in a room with someone who wanted to save the world more than they wanted to own it.”
She stared at me like she wasn’t sure what to do with that. Then she huffed a small laugh. “You make me sound more noble than I am,” she said. “Most days I’m just tired, pissed off, and trying not to blow myself up.”
“I’ll admire you if I want to. You can’t stop me.”
Color touched her cheeks. She shifted on the stool. “Well,” she said, “if you think this is such an important project. . .” Her mouth twitched. “Welcome to the team.”
I blinked. “The team?”
“Yeah.” She gestured around the lab. “The unofficial, underfunded, highly breakable attempt to push the needle in the right direction. Team ‘Try Not to Let Assholes Win.’”
I laughed. “Catchy.”
“So far there are only two members and one of them is incarcerated.”
I chuckled. “Keep talking like that and I’ll start thinking you like me.”
Her smile was delightfully ambiguous.
The room narrowed to the space between us. I searched her face from the faint smudge on her cheek to the tension line near her mouth, to the dark fringe of her lashes.
I wanted to kiss her. Hold her. Promise her forever.
Instead, I held back, knowing she needed more from me this time.
Her gaze flicked to my mouth, then back up, a flush rising on her neck.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she said quietly. “I need to work.”
“I don’t know where your mind just went, but I was thinking that you’re remarkable.”
Amusement filled her eyes. “Don’t you have rich people things to do?” she said. “Calls? An empire to run?”
“Not today. Today I’m Team Try Not to Let Assholes Win.”
She laughed—bright, unfiltered—then slapped a hand over her mouth like she hadn’t meant to let it out. “You’re ridiculous,” she said.
“Maybe.” I nodded at the notes. “But I meant what I said. About wanting to be part of this.”
She looked at me for a long second, then nudged a legal pad toward me. Scribbles everywhere—equations, diagrams, notes.
“Okay, Nate. If you’re on the team, you have to help.”
When should I tell her that higher math was never my strength?
She pushed the pad closer. “Sit. Read. Tell me if anything jumps out.
I looked it over like I understood it. “Okay.”
I sat beside her, shoulders almost brushing, the pad balanced between us. Purpose settled into my chest like something long overdue. I’d had power my whole life. But I’d never had this.
Outside, snow kept falling. The world continued on as it always had.
Inside, nothing felt the same.
I turned the pad toward her, and said, “Could you talk me through your reasoning?”
She lit up. “I’d love to. That is actually a process that my dad used to use with me.”
I tried to follow as she went over her equations but eventually allowed myself to simply enjoy listening to her justify each process and outcome.
God, she’s beautiful, inside and out.
I have no idea where this going, but I’m all in.