58. Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Kat
Once Milo had me situated in my conference room with a hot cup of coffee and my miraculously appearing jacket, I finally convinced him I was okay.
Which was good, because he needed to go do everything he was supposed to be doing.
I had a sneaking suspicion I’d seen Basti briefly earlier, probably making space for Milo to do this in his schedule.
I hated that.
“I’m good, Milo. Go. GO! I’m okay, go do your thing before you get fined,” I insisted.
He grinned, leaned down to give me one last hug, and disappeared like magic.
I popped the team headset on and started prepping for Practice One.
My sensors seemed mostly linked up, and the rest we could situate between practices.
I couldn’t help but smile to myself. I’d done it. I’d fucking DONE it. I hadn’t slept, but I’d DONE it. I had so, so much work left. But the sensors were functional.
My software was working.
And I’d succeeded in doing what I’d worked a decade to do.
I was finally able to help protect drivers the way my dad wasn’t.
Just after finding out his accident wasn’t an accident.
The smile tried to slip from my face, but it didn’t matter. This was still so, so important. My software would catch anything—ANYTHING—that could possibly go wrong. With the car. The environment. The driver.
Immediately.
And adapt, when practical. Or advise, when not.
A tear slipped down my cheek as I watched both cars come back into the pits after practice.
I’d done it.
I needed to share this. With my people. The ones that had been there from the beginning. A second tear fell as I dialed Bex’s number, unsure and uncaring of the time in LA. I leaned forward, my forehead on the conference table, staring at the dirty concrete floor as I listened to the phone ring.
She picked up.
“It works,” I whispered into the phone the second she did. A small smile hit my lips at her squeal. I could actually hear her jumping up and down over there.
“I knew it would, Kat. I KNEW you could do it. This is EVERYTHING, Kat. Your dad would be so proud,” she said sincerely. I thought of other night. Of dinner. And after. I’d been so sure he WOULDN’T be proud. I thought maybe being a parent was complicated.
You could be proud of some things.
And ashamed of others.
Another tear dripped as I thanked her.
“Fuck, Bex. I just want to take my Mustang out and drive right now but it’s so far- OH MY GOD BEX WHERE IS MY CAR?
” I shrieked, sitting upright in the chair so quickly it almost slid out from under me.
I heard her laughing at the disproportionate terror in my voice as a half-zipped team kit popped into my peripheral vision.
“In your garage, back from the shop good as new after we pried it out of the grubby little paws at the impound lot. We rescued it just after Cassandra sprung Henry from the clink, don’t worry,” she joked. I was glad about my car. But… what?
“Bex what the hell are you talking about?” I asked, refusing to look at the black and purple kit standing there patiently. Bex went quiet on the other end of the line.
“Um, you know? Right? How the idiot got himself arrested for your murder by screaming at the cops that the dogs wouldn’t find you? And since your car lit up with enough blood to assume someone was murdered in there?” she said, phrasing everything like a question.
“Uh, no? Bex. I have no idea what you’re talking about. And wait all over it? What the hell?” I asked, my questions actually questions.
“It was cleaned up pretty well, I guess, except the door,” she said hesitantly. And it hit me. Oh, wow. I had cleaned that blood up. From Henry’s hand in Vegas. So, he was arrested because of his own blood. That was fucked.
She filled me in on the rest of it. What had happened once I disappeared. I hadn’t… thought about it. That sounded fucking terrible. But… I hadn’t. I hadn’t had the capacity. But now, I was. Thinking about it. I looked up to the doorway.
“I need to go, Bex. I love you though,” I said slowly, catching the hopeful gaze of the driver in my doorway. I hung up.
I just looked at him for a moment. And not even because he was sweaty and flushed and bright-eyed from driving, even though that was wildly distracting. He stepped into the room, and I gestured at the door. He kicked it shut with a flick of his foot.
“Kat, I-“ he started.
“No,” I said, cutting him off quietly. I held up my hand. Five fingers. I had to blink back tears at the fact that he copied me automatically, despite not knowing what we were doing.
“Let’s play a game,” I said slowly. He looked confused, but nodded. I took a step toward him as I spoke.
“Never have I ever been arrested,” I said clearly. He snorted.
“That can’t possibly be true,” he laughed. I cracked a small smile—he was right—but I kept going, taking another step toward him. I nodded at his hand to put a finger down. He did slowly, his smile slipping slightly.
“Never have I ever been arrested for murder,” I murmured. Another step. Another finger.
“Technically, I-“ he tried. I raised my voice slightly.
“Never have I ever told them to leave me there, because I wasn’t as important,” I said softly, my voice clear in the silence. He swallowed. Looked to the side. And put another finger down. I closed the space between us to only a couple feet.
“Never have I ever been allowed to believe someone I cared about was dead, including pictures,” I whispered. He looked back at me again, the color gone from his cheeks. And put his fourth finger down. I stepped up right in front of him.
“Never have I ever been bitched out by the person that was snatched from under my nose for trying to keep it from happening again,” I breathed. He put his last finger down.
I threw my good arm around his neck, holding on tight. He caught me, as always.
“Kat, I’m all sweat-“ he tried.
“I DON’T care,” I said firmly, muffled in his shoulder. I didn’t. Well, I did. But so, so not in the way he meant. I liked it.
“Kat, I didn’t know-“ he attempted one more time. I nipped at his earlobe, earning myself a low groan from his chest.
“Henry, as much as I love your accent, shut up,” I whispered in his ear. Then I nipped his earlobe again. Because I could. And because I wanted to.
I was moved so quickly I wasn’t sure what had happened, but he had me pinned against the wall, my legs wrapped around him, before I knew what was going on. I wasn’t mad about it.
“Baby girl, you can NOT do that right now,” he growled at me.
His tone had my back arching of its own accord, which certainly didn’t press my hips into his.
Which certainly didn’t introduce me to his current problem.
I giggled. He glanced at the door, most likely to make sure the window blinds were closed. Of course they were, sweetie.
“Do what?” I asked innocently. He growled again. I grinned.
“And what do you mean, right now?” I asked, my tone shifting. I actually wanted to know. He pressed a kiss to my neck, just above the hickey I still needed to yell at him about.
He slid his hand under my shirt, wrapping it around my waist. I just now realized he was trembling slightly.
“Right after I get out of the car, Kat,” he said in a low voice. A slow smile spread across my face. He bit down gently directly on top of the hickey he had left.
“As much as I want to argue with you about how I very much SHOULD be doing that, then, I wanted to talk to you,” I said reasonably. He smiled at me and let me down, shoving a hand through his too-long, sweaty hair. Uh. What was I talking about?
Apology.
Right.
“Henry, I’m sorry for bitching at you earlier. Tam had just said… you’d said you’d look after me while she was gone,” I started softly, my gaze dropping away from his face. He sat in the chair next to mine, gesturing for me to sit, too.
“And?” he asked, sounding genuinely baffled.
“It made it sound an awful lot like you guys were arranging who was going to babysit me. And with the night in the medical center, and your birthday and... after… your birthday… I just…” I trailed off, unable to articulate how that had made me feel.
He didn’t respond right away. So, I said one last thing.
“But I don’t get to be a bitchy independent woman when I can’t even wash my own damn hair.
Or when I am recognizing that maybe the people that care about me were maybe a little frightened when I went missing,” I finished, mumbling.
He chuckled warmly at my hedging understatement.
His hands hit the armrests of my chair, pulling me toward him. I looked up.
Those pretty blue eyes were even brighter than they were coming in here. Fuck, I wanted to play with that. Play with him, while he was like this. But we couldn’t.
For a lot of reasons.
“Kat, I was just confused earlier, and terrified you were pulling away again. I had no bloody clue what you were talking about. And yes, I will always look after you. I will always make sure you’re fed and warm and happy.
And caffeinated. That one’s important,” he stated like it was simply fact.
I opened my mouth to argue, but apparently this was his turn to talk. Fine.
“And I know you can do it yourself. I know and love how independent you are. But I just want to be the person you let in. Let help. Let make things a little easier, when you need it. I just want to be that person,” he finished, definitively. I nodded.
“Okay,” I whispered. The smile that earned me made me want to say whatever needed to keep seeing it.
Again and again.
For the rest of my life.