16. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Henry
Itried to look casual strolling into the garage.
I wasn’t needed here today, and normally I would avoid everyone like the plague on my birthday.
I could almost always expect some sort of “loving” prank from the mechanics, and Tim always had something especially diabolical planned. But I couldn’t not come in.
Kat had been exhausted yesterday. And she’d still worked until eleven at night.
And I was sure she’d be in sometime today.
I’d gotten here early, in the hopes of missing the influx of personnel.
I succeeded in that, but I could see from the hallway that the light in Kat’s conference room was on. She was already here.
I sighed, pushing into my room. I knew she wouldn’t listen if I told her she needed rest. I knew she was behind, but for Christ’s sake, the team had sprung an entire rewrite on her. Not just an integration. That was on them, not her. But again, she’d never listen.
And I couldn’t help her. I knew enough to make a mess, and that was about it.
I still didn’t even remember where those “skills” had come from, which meant it was that year.
But I could sneak into just about any back door of any system, no matter how small.
Well, sneak was a generous word. I could blast a giant hole through just about any back door of any system, making a bloody mess.
I winced at the thought of the damage I’d done to Kat’s servers.
I hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly.
Sinking down onto my couch, I wondered how long I’d need to wait before someone found me.
Maybe coming in today had been a bad idea.
I’d never been able to explain to people why surprises, pranks, made me anxious.
Now I knew why, but I still couldn’t explain it.
Nor could I explain that right now it would almost certainly be worse. I could just be prepared.
My phone dinged, pulling me from my thoughts. I jumped on the distraction it offered, but I felt my heart sink when I saw the email. It was from Cassandra, Kat’s head of legal.
That couldn’t be good.
And it wasn’t. It was Cassandra reaching out to let me know that Donovan was suing Kat for ASSAULT. What a bloody slap in the face after all we went through that night.
Cassandra wanted to let me know because my medical records and statement could help. Of course, I would help. And her phrasing led me to believe she guessed Kat wouldn’t tell me herself, or ask me for help.
I snorted.
Of course, she hadn’t. Cassandra was right.
I emailed her back, letting her know I’d absolutely help. And then I reached out to the hospital we’d been admitted to.
And I requested my medical records.
But then I had nothing else to do. Nothing at all. Nothing I could do to help Kat, right now. I couldn’t even MENTION it to her, because OF COURSE it would upset her even more. Upset her that it was happening at all.
Upset her that Cassandra had reached out.
Upset her that I was involved at all.
But I at least realized SOMETHING I could do to be productive for the time being.
I stood and crossed to where my kit hung on the closet door.
I could check the sensors and make sure none of them had been damaged.
If they had, I could replace them from the stack I still had in my desk. One less thing for Kat to worry about.
Unzipping the upper half, I spotted something that made me smile. Well, that was a good surprise. That was for sure. A giant bag of my favorite sweets was the perfect way to start my birthday. No matter that it was seven in the morning, I immediately tore the bag open.
Was it ridiculous? Perhaps. Did I allow myself much outside of my strict diet besides these?
Not normally. I had been consuming a higher-than-normal amount of ice cream and milkshakes lately, but I wasn’t exactly confessing that to my team.
Since I hadn’t been able to train as hard as usual, I’d actually lost weight.
Even with the higher intake. Without all of the work, I would have next to zero muscle. And that just wouldn’t do in the car.
It was early enough that perhaps that’s what I could do.
Head to the workout room while no one was around, try to get something in.
Cardio was… out of the question currently.
Just breathing normally was… problematic.
But I could do other things. I paused at the door just for a moment before shutting off the light.
I looked back at the bag of sweets, realizing that since I wasn’t exactly allowed to eat my body weight in hard candy every month, almost no one knew about my addiction. It was probably from Andrew. A peace offering of sorts. It wouldn’t work. Not until he apologized.
Not to me.
To Kat.
And speak of the devil, I ran into Andrew scurrying down the hallway. Actually ran into him, because he was looking down, and I was shutting my door. A slice of pain lanced through my ribs and chest on my left side, but I stifled any outward reaction.
I’d barely convinced the medical team to clear me. I’d never be allowed to race if they knew something like bumping into someone made my bloody head swim. I just needed to keep the car out of the wall, and they’d never know.
“Oh, good. You’re here. Ah, mate, listen-“ he started, mumbling and stuttering a bit. A spike of anger had me cutting him off.
“I don’t have anything to say to you and I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. Unless you’re telling me you’ve apologized to Kat,” I stated firmly.
I couldn’t believe how badly he’d overstepped. I hadn’t spoken to Kat about it the other night, because she had been upset enough. I hadn’t wanted to give her any reason to think she didn’t deserve comfort through her pain because of something this bloody tosser had said. He had no idea.
And I couldn’t tell him.
I just… couldn’t. It felt wrong. It felt wildly personal, what had happened to Kat and I that night.
And it seemed as if she felt the same way.
No one seemed to have gotten any of the story from her, either.
But the people closest to me were supposed to trust my judgement, not make drastic decisions and leave nasty voicemails on my behalf.
“Mate, listen. I haven’t apologized yet.
I don’t quite… I think it’ll take more than words.
I’m thinking on it. But I’m also not entirely sure I was fully wrong.
But I am willing to admit that obviously there’s things I didn’t know about that night, and that I was possibly a tad hasty in my judgement,” he gushed, trying to get it all out quickly before I walked away.
That wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t close to good enough. But… he seemed sincere. But it still wasn’t enough.
“I don’t care if you don’t think words will be good enough.
You’re right, it will take more than words.
But the bloody words would be a proper start, and she needs to hear them.
From you. Soon,” I said harshly. It was honestly less harsh than I’d wanted to be, so he was lucky that was all he got. Even if he did wince.
He nodded, then swallowed hard. Rocking back on his heels and shoving his hands into his pockets, he glanced up at me sheepishly.
“Happy birthday?” he said quietly, making it sound like a question.
He winced again before I’d even responded.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair.
I needed a bloody haircut. But for some reason the thought made my heart race, recently, so I’d let it go a tad long.
Not that anyone but me cared. But it kept falling in my eyes and I couldn’t stand that.
“Thanks, mate,” I said quietly, throwing him a proverbial bone. He looked up, hopeful. I continued. “I-was that you? The sweets?” He looked confused.
“Uh, no? I didn’t bring you my gift, I didn’t want you binning it because you’re upset with me. Rightfully so, I just didn’t want to waste it,” he said in a rush. I knew he could see the confusion on my face. I started moving again, and he fell into step beside me. Cheeky bugger.
“Sweets?” he asked leadingly, trying to get me to say more. I thought for a moment. It had to have been him. Unless my sister had snuck in here this morning, which I doubted. Emma hadn’t been letting her sleep, lately. There was no way she’d intentionally lose more of it.
“I… someone left a giant bag of my favorites in my room. I figured it was you. No one else knows about that sordid little habit,” I admitted. He looked like he was thinking hard, and he took a moment to respond.
“Are you sure Becca didn’t bring them in?” he asked. I nodded.
“Do you think your parents or Mark would’ve had someone bring them in?” he continued. I shook my head, rubbing the back of my neck.
“They were tucked into my kit. My brother wouldn’t have had someone do that, and neither would my parents. They would’ve sent a package. I’m not… I mean Basti doesn’t even know. He’d bloody murder me if he knew how many sweets I eat,” I murmured, mostly thinking out loud.
But then I stopped walking, suddenly. Andrew didn’t catch on for half a beat, but then turned to me. He had several questions in his eyes. I ran my hand through my hair again. It couldn’t have been…
“Well, who else knows, mate?” he prompted. “Tim? One of the mechanics?”
I shook my head. Then I swallowed. And then I turned around.
“Meet me in the workout room in like ten minutes, yeah?” I said over my shoulder, already walking back toward the garage.
“Sure, but you better share with the class later,” he shouted jokingly. I doubted I’d be sharing with him—I didn’t need him pissing all over the tiny bit of hope and happiness I might’ve found in this. Because it didn’t matter what he said.
Because I thought I knew who’d left the sweets.
And I was pretty sure I was right in believing that she loved me. She may hate me, but she also loved me. Somewhere in there.
I jogged off to find Kat.