23. I Blink, Sweetheart. You win
23
I BLINK, SWEETHEART. YOU WIN
GHOST
I don’t know if he’s smug enough to have kissed me as a distraction or if he simply did it because he wanted to, but either way, it’s distracting me. Almost in a good way. Because instead of worrying about what I’m doing, I’m feeling the way my lips tingle and my neck flushes as I slip down the hallway unnoticed. He’s causing a ruckus with the guards, using his charm to manipulate their reaction to him, and I’m becoming a ghost who blushes.
Blushes!
Fucking bullshit if you ask me. My mind is on that simple kiss as I use a stolen security card to enter labs, and it’s still on that kiss when I slip past three guards and a medical professional to enter the secure area I need to be in. My tongue roams over my bottom lip as I bend down to let the sensor scan my contacts, and I taste something that isn’t me as the red light turns green and beeps me into the research office.
It's Riot. Killian is on my lips and against my tastebuds, but mostly, he’s in my head. Normally, he fucks with my mind in a way that agitates me, but tonight, it’s calming. I settle into the feeling instead of fighting it, slipping into a shadowed corner of the room as the door beeps open again.
“Fucking focus, Ghost,” Ransom says in my ear. “There are only two of them. No one else in the hallway.”
Director says I’m not allowed to kill them, but…
Quietly, I pull a syringe from my blazer jacket, grab the first woman, and stick it in her neck. I set her down quietly, stepping over her body as the second syringe slips into position between my thumb and fingers.
He kissed me. Softly… Just in case it was his last chance. The fuck?
“I can’t believe they’re letting us in this file,” says the second one as she opens something on the computer. “We don’t even have this security clearance, but something must be coming if they’re granting us access. The hell is Project Doom?”
I pause behind her. Right behind her. Not making a sound and not emitting energy enough for even the hairs on her arms to stand at attention. Project Doom? Moros is the word for the personification of impending doom, so my interest is piqued.
“Claire?”
When she spins, I cover her mouth, prick her with the needle, and plunge the cool liquid into her neck before her eyes see me. Just in case she wakes up from this, I don’t want her knowing my face.
“Director said no deaths,” Ransom says, not in a chiding way.
“They aren’t dead.”
“Yet,” Glitch adds. “Plug in to that computer before the screen locks. I’ll get whatever I can from it while you look for the key. It’ll be a program or device somewhere near a chip reader. Look for it.”
I plug in the first device I was sent with, letting Glitch hack into the computer from back in Moros. Glancing around the room, I’m met with so many different kinds of technology that I barely know what to do with any of it. Glitch had to send me a video on how to plug the devices into the right holes. Moros isn’t like this. We’re caught in the past, reliant on word of mouth and paper products rather than technology, except for the select few people who know their way around it. Director, Facts, and Glitch being three of those people.
“Riot?” I ask as I search.
“His big mouth is still running,” Ransom says.
“Show me footage of the room so I can help you locate the right machine,” Glitch says. “Hurry up. Riot’s going to need to get out of there soon.”
I click on the camera and slowly spin around the room until Glitch tells me where to go. With the second device inserted, a screen pops up that says I’m denied.
“Fuck,” Glitch mutters. “This is gonna take me a bit to crack.”
While he cracks the passcode, I aim the camera away and search the computer next to it. I type in the file number Axel gave us, download it to a USB, and shove it in my pocket while Glitch and Ransom are busy. That creepy doctor owes me for this, and I’ll definitely collect.
“Riot?” I ask again, lips still warm.
“Listen in,” Ransom says.
I turn on my audio for Riot and listen to him argue about human rights with a growing number of people. He’s in a full-blown debate about being a Reaper City resident and wanting to know more about what their research entails, claiming that, as a resident, he has a right to know what goes on in his city. Says it’ll make him feel safer. Weirdly, some people in the background are agreeing with him, which pumps his ego so hard that he goes off on a whole new tangent.
Yeah, he’s fine. I smile to myself.
I wonder if he’s been manipulating me, and I’ve been too stupid to notice? I’ve been caught up in our bargain and enjoying the thrill of it, but suddenly he’s kissing me and I’m hopping into bed with him for safety and security, and I don’t fucking know where shit went so wrong. How did taunting a curse turn into this, and why the hell aren’t I more pissed off about it?
Psych says I’m a narcissist, or that I have narcissistic traits at the very least. I never really gave a fuck about the diagnosis because it didn’t mean anything to me other than being a fancy word for superiority . Now I’m all mystified by it. I don’t handle humiliation or embarrassment well, and if anyone else tricked me like Riot did, I’d fucking murder them with a justifiable reason. My mind is all warped and mixed up now because I don’t want to kill Riot. I want to study him, figure out why the hell he’s treating me like this, and then ask him a question I’ve never asked anyone.
Why me?
I’ve never been loved in the way other people are loved. I’ve never been seen, gotten the recognition I deserve, or been prioritized the way I should be. I’m the one with the most skill when it comes to getting the jobs done. Like, fuck, you think any other Vile Boy could be here in the midst of the enemy’s lab without getting caught? Fuck no. They need me, so they use me. But maybe Riot needs me, and instead of just using me, he’s giving me something in return. Something I didn’t know I needed. Something less thrilling than chasing death but more fulfilling because it’s honest and terrifying.
Riot looks at me like he knows I’m a mirage, but instead of trying to fix my illusion, he wants to hold my pieces together so I don’t have to try so hard. Why? Why the fuck would he want that?
“Ghost.” Glitch’s voice refocuses my attention. “I’m in. I’ve got the keycode, but I’m gonna download as much as I can in the next ninety seconds. This is going to trigger alarms, so be ready to leave. Riot, you hear me?”
Riot doesn’t verbally answer since he’s in the middle of a monologue, but he must signal them because they confirm it to me. Our exit strategy is the riskiest part of the job because we have no idea what their response time is once we’re detected in their computers. I look at the women on the floor, not bothering to check if they’re alive or dead.
“Get the devices and get out. We got what we need, but I need those in our hands, Ghost. Don’t ditch them.”
I nod and grab them from the computers, shoving them into the inside pocket of my blazer. Time to get Riot and get the hell out of here. Without getting caught. Without getting caught with these devices on me .
“Hall is clear,” Glitch tells me. “Go now.”
Silently, I leave the research lab and turn left, heading down the corridor with soundless steps and fluid motions. My heart thunders in my chest, a mix of adrenaline and premature hope that’ll get me killed if I don’t staunch it. Through one door and out another, I steady my steps and listen to staff chat and machines beep. The overhead comm system calls for Dr. Thali, and my ears split with the abruptness of it.
Exhaling slowly, I round the final corner, the sound of Riot’s voice and his many enthusiastic listeners finally greeting me. He’s here, alive, distracting the staff and causing just enough of a scene to keep the guards where they are. I swallow that bit of hope and replace it with determination, grounding myself in my self-confidence.
“Coming,” I tell Riot through the earpiece. “Right around the corner. Be ready to move.”
Kneeling behind an unmonitored security desk, I let him rile the crowd just enough to make the noise needed to cover the sound of my small electric screwdriver. One, two, three, and four screws come off the grate that leads into the ventilation system under the desk, disappearing into my pocket.
“I’m here. Vent cover is off.”
Riot smiles at his audience. “As much as I love the sound of my own voice, it’s time I?—”
An overhead alarm sounds, followed by, “Security breach. Main console. Seventeenth floor, west wing. Lockdown initiated.”
Fuck. Fuck!
I stand from behind the desk, peering around the corner at Riot as guards swarm and green lights on doors turn red. The crowd he had entertained is panicked now, but not as panicked as I am.
“Riot!” I whisper-shout through the mic. “Get the fuck over here. Now!”
I duck when security comes around the corner, grabbing at members of the gathered crowd. Most of them are staff with badges and reasons to be in the building. All except Riot.
“Riot!”
He looks over at me, his grey eyes as stormy as they’ve always been. He’s telling me something I don’t want to hear, so I fucking tune him out and demand him with my eyes. Goddammit, Riot, if you’ve ever given a single fuck about anything, give it now.
“Let’s go. Now. Riot, please.”
Panic creeps into my whisper, grating at my throat and burning my eyes. It worsens when three guards step up to him, pulling his hands behind his back.
“Where’s your staff identification?”
“In my pocket,” he says calmly. “Let my hands go and I’ll gladly grab it for you.”
“Someone in a black suit jacket and dark grey pants left the main console. Male. Dark blond to light brown hair. Six foot two or three. Suspect is considered armed and dangerous.” The guards’ radios all echo my description.
We fucking planned for this! But he’s not here. We’re not side by side, ready to dip into the ventilation system for our quickest escape. My heart picks up its pace, barking in my chest while my mind whirls through our plans, merging every strategy together to get him out of this mess.
“Don’t,” Glitch says in my ear, but I ignore him.
I crawl around the desk, ready to take Riot out of here by force. We’re outnumbered and overpowered, but like hell I’m leaving him here while I run to safety—the selfish part of me would, but my ego can’t handle leaving my partner behind.
Peeking around the side of the desk, I see him with his hands behind his back, guards all around him and more coming. He looks at me again, eyes full of confessions and a grin fighting its way through his fear. But Killian Hallows is too cocky to admit to fear, let alone show it, so he smiles at me fully, and in my ear, I hear his voice.
“I’ll hold your hand when you meet me in Hell, sweetheart. Race ya there.” He smiles at me as I start to stand, but he ruins it by shouting, “Fuck Reaper Corp! I’ve got a bomb!”
I rush out, but Glitch, Ransom, and Director are in my ear. “Don’t! If you go after him, you’re both dead and Reaper Corp will know for sure it was us. Get out of there, Ghost. Now. That’s a fucking order.”
I grit my teeth, my brain warring with my heart, and my morals coming to life in a way they never have before. Anger is the easiest way to feel my feelings, so I allow rage to consume me, filling me with power and adrenaline that convinces me I can still get us out of this. I fucking refuse to let him sacrifice himself for me. Not a fucking chance. He doesn’t get that right, and he sure as fuck doesn’t have the right to put his death on my conscience.
My jaw aches and my eyes sting, refusing to look away from him. He’s grabbed from all directions, thrown to the ground and pinned down. When multiple guns point at his head, I barely contain myself from stepping out of cover.
“Ghost!” Director yells at me. “Go!”
“I can’t fucking leave him!”
“You can,” Riot says. “Tell Krypt?—”
“Fuck you, Riot. Fight harder. We can get out of this.” I watch him as he’s cuffed and restrained, knowing it’ll only be a few seconds before his comms are discovered and ripped out. “Please, Killian.”
He laughs, struggling to look backwards at me. “I blink, sweetheart. You win. Now go.”
“Killian!”
His earpiece is taken out, and he’s forced to his feet, my anger building as I track every man who touches him, vowing their death by my hands.
“Ghost, you have to move. Right fucking now,” Ransom shouts. “Now. Think of Remi and Selena. Get moving before they lock every other floor down.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“No.” I’m stuck, rooted to the damn floor behind a desk, watching Riot’s body be dragged down the hall as he laughs ominously for my benefit. “No. I’m not leaving without him. They’ll kill him.”
“Then get out of there so we can make a plan before they do,” Ransom says. “I fucking promise you, Ghost. We will go back for him. I need you to trust me.”
I silently scream in a fit of rage. Ransom said the same thing to Krypt the night Remi took the suicide pill. He asked Krypt to trust him, and now I’m the one who needs to put my faith in him. I loathe myself for it, but I slip into the vent, pull the grate against the opening, and force myself not to feel a single fucking thing but redemption as I escape Reaper City with the stolen devices.
But not my partner.
My cracks have never been split so wide open. My puzzle pieces no longer fit together to create one perfect picture.
I’m a different man now. A truly vile one. Because Killian somehow became mine, and I’m not fucking done with him.