Chapter Nineteen #2
“It’s real.” He rubbed his cheek against the top of her head. He’d never felt so content, so complete, so excited for the future. Not even in the space force. Serving his planet had given him tremendous satisfaction and pride, but she brought him contentment and peace.
Finding love, finding her, had shifted his priorities. He couldn’t wait to leave Luturna and get started on their life together. He’d do what he could to help his brother, but when her term with GAL Friday ended, he’d go to Earth and never look back.
At the thought of Korsan, a wisp of significance tickled his consciousness and then evaporated. He cocked his head, trying to retrieve it.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing. I had a thought. But it’s gone.”
She chuckled. “I hate it when that happens. It will come to you at 2 a.m.” She patted her mouth as she yawned. “Sorry.” She rubbed the side of her nose.
“No problem.” He yawned, too, and they laughed.
They held each other until they drifted to sleep.
* * * *
His eyes popped open as he jolted awake, the elusive wisp solidified.
Korsan never said he wasn’t laundering money.
Michaela uttered a little gaspy-snort in her sleep. Careful not to disturb her, he eased out of bed.
Too wired now to sleep, he pulled on a robe and padded into the sitting room. City lights spilled into the space, reducing night to dusk. He paced as he replayed his brother’s words.
“I can’t believe you would accuse me of money laundering.”
“This is outrageous.”
“I’m stunned you would accuse me.”
Not a single denial. Only faux outrage. Not once did he utter the words, “I’m not laundering money,” or “I didn’t do it.”
“I swear on our parents’ ashes—”
What do you swear? You didn’t finish the sentence!
Like a slick politician, his brother had played him. He wasn’t sending them off planet to investigate, but to get rid of them. The trip was a boondoggle to prevent further digging into company finances.
He’d wanted to believe his brother so much, he’d heard what he wanted to hear. I should have let Michaela go with me to speak to him. Less emotionally invested, she would have caught on right away.
The anecdote from childhood had been an interesting subconscious slip, an admission of how he used to lie and trick him. Nothing’s changed. Korsan was still lying and manipulating.
He’d ignored Ruyn’s wishes and hired Michaela on the sly, attempted to pass her off as an administrative assistant.
While she turned out to be the love of his life, he’d been humiliated at first. Had that been the intent?
Older brother puts down the younger? A metaphorical reprise of tricking him into eating dirt?
Or had the motivation been sincere? Perhaps he had been trying to help.
He didn’t know what to believe anymore. Very few people were all bad or all good. Most were a mix, leaning to one side or the other. Korsan could be a criminal and a loving brother.
Except now, Ruyn would question everything. He wouldn’t be able to trust him or take anything he did at face value. It wouldn’t surprise him if Korsan faked an “audit” and produced a false report.
What the phuk do I do now? Confront him again? Pretend everything is copacetic but keep digging? What if he found the answers? What then? Snitching was anathema, but he couldn’t condone or enable wrongdoing with complicit silence, either.
Maybe he should quit. Walk away. Go to Earth with Michaela now and leave Korsan to the mess of his own making. Why is it my problem to fix?
Maybe there isn’t a problem. Maybe he was reading too much into the lack of an outright denial.
Afterall, there was only circumstantial evidence of illicit activity.
The unusual expenses and deposits were consistent with money laundering, but he didn’t have proof that funds from an actual criminal enterprise were being filtered through the company.
I can’t walk away. He’s my brother.
Just as Korsan had tried to help him by hiring Michaela over his objections, he had to try to save his brother from himself. I guess we’re alike in one respect. We’re both going to do what we want regardless of what the other one desires.
I have to find out exactly what he’s involved in. For that, he had to probe way deeper and would need Michaela’s help. She would be much better at cyber investigations than him.
But he could start tonight, since he’d never get back to sleep anyway. He glanced around for his tech tab then remembered he’d left it in the bedroom.
Moonlight slid through the gap in the drawn blinds to reveal Michaela asleep on her side, hair over her face. She’d kicked off the covers. His heart swelled with love for her. Despite Korsan’s actions, he owed him a debt of gratitude for bringing her into his life.
He crept to his nightstand and retrieved his device then bent and kissed her on the head. She slept dead to the world, totally still. Careful not to wake her, he smoothed the hair from her face and then squinted. Was her skin…bumpy? Did her face look swollen?
He brushed his fingers over her cheek. Phuk!
He dropped his tech tab on the nightstand and hit the light switch. Her face and throat, covered in hives, had ballooned. He shook her shoulder. “Michaela! Wake up! Wake up!” He shook her again, but she didn’t move.
“Michaela!” She’s not waking up! He shook her harder then lightly slapped her face. She didn’t so much as twitch.
He pressed a hand to her chest and his face to her nose and mouth.
There wasn’t the slightest movement or breath.