Chapter 16
Simon felt himself blush. “You don’t have to boast like that.”
“I’m not boasting for myself. I’m boasting for you!” Everett spread his arms, pointed at him. “I’m proud of you. And since your dad can’t be here, I’ll be proud in his stead.”
Simon walked from his desk to the wall. Maybe he could allow himself a bit of pride. Although, as much as they were his achievements, they also belonged to the people who supported him along the way.
He clapped Everett on the shoulder. “Thanks. I’m glad to have you.”
Everett nodded, his smile turning serious. “I’ll always be here for you. You know that, right?”
***
Shanna was caught between two predators.
On one side of the table was Simon, staring at Chris with lowered eyebrows, as if he was about to jump for her neck. Chris, sitting on Shanna’s right, was pouting in her typical rebellious teenager manner, her chin lifted, daring Simon to prove her wrong.
“No,” Simon said firmly. “That’s Everett. He works for me. With me! He’s been my friend since before Aries even existed. He helped me get it off the ground.” His mouth twitched in a smile of disbelief. “He’d never try to kill me.”
“I don’t know what else to tell you.” Chris folded her arms. “I recognize the voice, and that beard matches.”
Simon leaned over the table. “It’s impossible.”
“You mean, improbable.”
The chair screeched as Simon stood, his hands clutching the edge of the table.
“Hey, you two,” Shanna said in a shaky voice. “I understand this is shocking …”
“It can’t be,” Simon said. “You mistook his voice. You didn’t see him that well. You have …” He ran a hand through his hair. “You have no other proof.”
“I wouldn’t have had proof for any other candidate either,” Chris said.
“How were you to get in contact with him again, to get your reward?”
“I wasn’t. He set a meeting at the same place he first found me. I had until then to do the job.”
“And when was that?”
Chris bit her lip, looking at the ceiling. “Like, a couple of days ago, maybe? The time difference is really fucking up my calculations.”
“So by now, he knows you didn’t do it,” Shanna whispered, but she was completely overridden by Simon’s loud, “He gave you two whole weeks?”
“He clearly didn’t know how to do crime!” Chris fought back in an equally loud voice. “I didn’t either. When he asked how much time, I made up a number.”
Simon covered his face with his hands.
Chris grimaced. “I’m sorry it turned out to be him.”
Simon let out a half-annoyed, half-frustrated grunt and rushed away.
Shanna had half a second to start saying, “Uh, Si—” before the bond yanked her after him.
She ran through the door to the outside garden, where Simon had leaned his forehead on the wall, his hands, still clenched in fists, at the level of his head.
She stopped as far away as the bond allowed her. Should she try to console him? What could she even say? That she didn’t want to believe Chris, either, but the girl had no reason to lie, no reason to pick one person over another—especially when she didn’t know who Everett was until Simon told her?
And Everett being Simon’s trusted friend didn’t exclude him from betrayal. Weren’t the people you loved always the ones who hurt you the most? None of Shanna’s friends forgetting her ever hurt as much as Mom leaving her.
She approached slowly, hugging her midriff. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need your pity,” he ground out, still staring at the wall.
“I’m not pitying you. I said I’m sorry because you don’t deserve a friend betraying you like that.”
“I don’t know why I expected anything different. In the end, I never mattered. Just what I represented, and what I created.” He turned his head to the side, revealing the slight bit of redness in his eyes. “He stood beside me until he got an opportunity to strike and take Aries from me.”
You matter, she wanted to say. You matter to me. But with his fists clenched and teeth bared, Simon still reminded her of a feral cat, looking only to defend itself. Any words of solace would be lost. He needed answers. He needed revenge, not love, and she could only give him the latter.
With another grunt, he pushed off the wall and stormed back inside, Shanna on his heels.
“Your meeting was a few days ago, and you weren’t there,” he said to Chris. “He also doesn’t have proof of my death, so he’ll know something is up.”
“He’ll probably think I chickened out. He didn’t pay me most of the money yet, and he assumes I don’t know who he is, so I imagine he won’t bother with me.”
“But he still needs to finish the job.” Simon sat back down.
The vulnerable man Shanna had seen only moments ago was gone; there was only determination in the slope of his eyebrows and the firm line of his mouth, and a cold, focused gleam in his eyes.
“He has a plan, and he’s going through with it.
Telling people I’m dead because he expects in a short time, I will be. ”
“You think he knows where you are?” Shanna asked.
Simon briefly glanced at her, then went back to Chris. “How did you find me in the first place?”
“He gave me the info to a location in Montana. But when I got there, the house was empty. I asked and some neighbor said you”—she looked at Shanna—“left that morning, with a man, to go to your grandma.” She lowered her eyes to the floor.
“I faked crying and he told me the address and even gave me money for transportation.”
“But how did he know—” Shanna started.
“I called the entire company, remember?” Simon said.
“Everett included. Multiple times. He could’ve tracked the phone before it broke the next day.
” His chuckle came out full of anger. “And he dared to claim it was a prank. He blocked me. He told everyone else not to listen to me—he was supposed to be the one who helped me, and he screwed me over!”
“You’re still alive, though,” Chris said.
“And while I am, he’s not getting away with it.”
“We should go back,” Shanna said.
“No.” He leaned back in his chair. “We can’t even be in separate rooms right now because of this.
” He waved his tattooed wrist. “Everett can’t find me here, but he has more ways to pick up my scent once I’m back in San Francisco.
He’ll send another assassin after me. And I won’t have you in danger, what with us being attached at the hip. ”
Shanna blinked away the few tears welling up. She wanted to hug him, tell him how much it meant that he thought of her like that, and how much he meant to her, but he was currently all business.
“Besides, I don’t think we’re on a tight schedule,” Simon continued. “He can’t track me or Chris. It won’t make a difference whether I come back tomorrow or in a week. But this”—he pointed at the tattoo—“does matter.”
“We need to break it.” Not only because Simon thought it might put her in danger. The tattoo—her vicinity—put him in danger. Who needed more accidents on top of already being hunted by a killer? And who needed a woman running after him like a lost puppy while he tried to get his life back in order?
Simon gave her a grim nod. “Let’s pack up.” While they walked upstairs, he pulled out his phone and tapped away. “It’s a roundabout way to Milford Sound, but we can make it with an overnight stop.”
“It will help to breathe a bit. Take some time.”
“Yes.” He still looked distracted, though, zipping around his room, packing up his stuff without much order or logic.
“Simon.” She tentatively laid her hand on his forearm first, to stop him. When he didn’t pull away, she enveloped him in a hug.
“It’ll be all right,” she said. You matter. You matter to me. And even though she didn’t say the words out loud, and he said nothing back, he stayed in that embrace.
And for now, that was enough.
Throughout the long drive down the west coast, the mood improved only marginally.
As they turned into the mountain pass, the radio died—courtesy of her, Shanna assumed—and they rode on in silence.
The clouds and low-hanging mists were left behind, along with the lush, evergreen forests.
On the other side, they were greeted by the sun and dry, bare mountains, draped in the pale gold of the late fall.
Chris made them stop at a viewpoint; Shanna followed her out of the car, and then Simon as well, having no other choice.
Cold wind battered Shanna in the face, this high up on the pass, but the view was more than worth it.
Below them, mountains from all sides descended toward a long, squiggly lake, its color such a vibrant cobalt blue it nearly hurt Shanna’s eyes.
Chris was already taking photos and turned to Shanna when she approached. “Come on. I have to take one of us.”
“This is really not the time, Chris,” Simon, standing the maximum possible distance away, grunted.
“No, dumbass, this is literally the only time,” Chris said, as if she was explaining basic arithmetic to a mathematical genius. “You’re likely never gonna stand on this road again, whether you get assassinated or not. So come over here and take a picture with me.”
“She does have a point,” Shanna said gently. She stepped to Chris, shoulder to shoulder, facing her back toward the lake.
“You too, JFK,” Chris shouted at Simon.
Simon joined and even mustered a smile as Chris took a slew of selfies. Then, the phone’s screen blinked out.
“Huh. It still had enough battery,” Chris said.
“It’s me,” Shanna said. Second electronics failure within hours—that had to be a record even for her. She turned to Simon. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.” His voice was so neutral she couldn’t tell if he was upset—either because of the phone or the events of the day.
The wind blew Chris’s beanie off her head. “Holy shit!” She chased after it, picking it up as it lodged under the car’s tire.