Chapter Thirty-Eight #2
And that’s exactly what I do. As soon as we step off the plane, I slip through the throngs of people. Killian can’t get to me without shoving reporters aside, which he can’t do without tarnishing his shiny reputation.
Still, I feel his eyes on me as I manage to get away, and his unspoken promise to come for me as soon as he can.
I manage to find a taxi to take me home before Killian or one of his henchmen—specifically, Locke—can get to me.
On the way home, I start gathering facts and little tidbits I managed to pick up during the course of the trip, regardless of how many restrictions Killian put on me after the first gala. I still saw important things that night.
Carter Black seems fond—or as fond as a sociopath can be—of Killian. Silas Cornell has a love-hate relationship with Killian… almost as though Killian has control over him, and sporadically chooses to exercise it, pissing him off.
My intuition tells me to dig at the three of them, so as soon as I get home, that’s exactly what I begin to do.
It hits me eight hours and so many financial reports the numbers start blurring later.
The final piece of the puzzle clicks into place, sending a sense of elation bleeding through my entire system.
I stumble up from my couch, rubbing my eyes, wondering if I imagined this. If I’m so exhausted that I’ve made something out of nothing.
But no. Financials don’t lie—I’m just the first person who’s gone over these reports with a fine-tooth comb.
Years ago, Killian and Silas staged a hostile takeover of John’s company, Harbor I laugh. It feels nice. I can’t remember the last time I laughed. “I need your help.”
His voice turns from playful to serious in a millisecond. “What’s up?” he asks. “Talk to me.”
“The thing I needed the tech to work on… it’s ready.”
Tommy doesn’t speak for a long time. When he does, he drawls, “Explain.”
“Killian King has something on me,” I say vaguely.
“Something career-ending, not to mention life-ending. Now I’ve got something on him, too.
” I explain the exposé without getting too explicit, telling Tommy about what I’ve discovered and what I’ve written as a byproduct of my discoveries, vaguely brushing over the reason I’ve done all of this.
Once I’m done, he’s silent for several achingly-long moments. Finally, he says, “You realize you hold the equivalent of the red button that sets off nukes, right?”
“I’m pretty sure nuclear launch systems are far more advanced than a single red button.”
“You know what I mean.” Tommy swears under his breath.
“Lyra, this is dangerous. Extremely dangerous. If it leaks, it wouldn’t kill Killian, but it’d heavily impact his business and personal life.
He’ll be bleeding money while recovering.
Not enough money to leave him destitute—in the unlikely case that this totally tanks Helixon Biopharma, he has eight figures stashed away in off-shore accounts and close to triple-digits millions in investments—but it would be bad.
” He pauses for emphasis. “If anyone knows what you know, they’ll kill you. ”
“Trust me, I am more than well aware of that fact. What I need from you is to work your magic and ensure that, should I ever disappear, the exposé goes live. I have two versions—one implicating only Killian, and the other casting a shadow on Silas Cornell and Carter Black.”
“Carter Black?” Tommy hisses. “Carter fucking Black? Lyra, are you fucking insane? He’s mafia.”
I suspected as much. “Can you help me or not?”
He sighs. “Fuck. Yes, I can, but you’ll owe me.”
“I got you your job and kept your secrets.”
“And I got you technology worth a million dollars,” he deadpans. “If the world’s governments knew that the tech you have on your laptop or phone exists, they’d kill to get their hands on it. No, if I do this for you, you’ll owe me a favor. To be called in at any time, with any stipulations.”
I swallow. My hand automatically drops down to my stomach, and a dagger twists in my chest.
God damnit, I’m getting attached. I’m getting attached to the soon-to-be-baby, which puts a wrench in everything.
Maybe I can use the exposé as leverage to not only get Killian to destroy the sex tape, but to also ensure that he never claims the child as his own while discreetly paying child support?
I want my baby to have the best, and I can’t give them the best on my own. I also can’t, in good conscience, be with their father.
It’s amazing how a single pregnancy test and twenty-four hours could reshape all of my plans and opinions.
A cramp pangs in the side of my stomach—my brows furrow, but it’s mild, so it’s probably just gas. Nonetheless, my heart speeds a bit.
“Do you agree?” Tommy asks.
“You can’t pull a Rumplestiltskin,” I warn. “I’m not giving you my firstborn, all the money in my account, the right to kill me—”
“Jesus Christ, Lyra. I’m not a monster, and I’m not father material. Whatever I ask for won’t hurt you or the people you love. Short of that, anything’s on the table. Agreed?”
I feel faintly like I’m making a deal with the devil, but I don’t have the standing to refuse Tommy’s help. Here goes nothing. “Agreed.”
“Good. Listen to me very carefully. You will send both exposés to the email address I’m about to text you. I will take it from there. Unless you tell me to release the exposés or you disappear, they will never see the light of day.”
I worry my bottom lip. “How can you be sure?”
“Because I’m that good,” Tommy says drily. “They’ll be in the most secure digital vault in existence—one that nobody but me knows about. Unless you want them out or you die, they’ll stay there to rot. Oh, and they’ll auto-delete in the case of a breach of my servers.”
I blow out a long breath, nodding even though he can’t see me. “Okay.”
“Okay. Fuck. Can’t believe I’m doing this for a girl who won’t even offer me a quickie.” Tommy’s tone is coated with bone-dry humor. “Send it forward and I’ll take care of the rest. And, Lyra?”
“Tommy?”
“Be careful. Please. You don’t know what you’re up against—even I don’t know all you’re up against, but I can tell you it’s big, and it’s fucking bad.”