Reversion (The Narrows of Time Series Book 3) (23 page)

“Fuck you, Davies. You’re going to regret this,” Larson said before he stormed out the door.

Griffith’s knees gave out and he dropped to the floor, shaking and hyperventilating. He felt vomit threatening to erupt, but he managed to keep it down. He took a series of deep breaths, then dialed Stacy.

“Hello?” she said.

Griffith burst into tears. “Stacy?”

“Honey? Are you hurt? What’s wrong? Talk to me. I love you.”

Griffith managed to speak through the snot running out of his nose. “Larson was just here.”

“What happened? Tell me!”

“He said you had sex with him in the VIP room every week and whored around with half of Tucson.”

“He’s a liar. Don’t listen to him! None of that is true!” Stacy shouted into the phone. “I never did any extras in the VIP room like the other girls, and definitely never with a disgusting creep like him. He’s total scum, sweetie. Don’t believe him. I swear, I’m telling you the truth!”

Griffith took a deep breath, letting the tears slow. “I believe you, honey. I love you so much it hurts. I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

“I’m sorry he hurt you. I love you and always will. Don’t you ever forget that!”

“Me, too.”

“Damn him,” Stacy said in a wicked tone. “He won’t get away with this, I promise.”

Griffith struggled to his feet, using the desk as a brace. “What does that mean?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just come home now and let me take care of you. Okay? It’s date night.”

“Okay. I’m on my way.”

Lucas stood in the center of his campus lab, next to the three transport containers of E-121 sitting on Griffith’s dolly, trying to decide if he should do as he was told and wait until Kleezebee arrived to open them, or ignore the orders and inspect the contents now. He didn’t want to disappoint his boss, but his curiosity was nagging at him to peek inside to get a head start.

He bent forward at the waist and made a series of slow, rotating circles to stretch and flex his back muscles. The unexpected apartment move earlier in the week hadn’t helped his spine. Kleezebee didn’t give them much notice, citing the sudden need to gut and renovate his aging apartment complex just north of campus. Lucas decided not to complain to his boss after he learned the new place they were moving to was much larger and fifty years newer, and still free of charge. Plus, there were no scorpions at the new pad and the HVAC unit was brand-new, a welcome bonus when the blazing summer rolled around.

“Maybe I should unpack these crates to make some room?” he asked Drew.

“No. You can’t. The professor told us to wait.”

“How long?”

“An hour maybe. He said it couldn’t be helped. He needed to handle something urgent that just popped up.”

“But they take up so much damned space. It’s getting difficult to move around in here,” he said, resting his hands on the top crate.

“Try it from a wheelchair, then complain.”

“Right, sorry. Sometimes I forget.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not,” Drew said, pushing his wheelchair back casually with his feet.

“You know I don’t see you that way.”

“I appreciate that. You’re about the only one, other than maybe the professor. Everyone’s always staring at me like I’m helpless. ‘Oh, the poor little crippled boy.’ Sometimes, I just want to scream.”

“I hear ya, bro,” Lucas said, pawing at the topmost box. “Looks like all we need to do is cut the security tape and pop these latches. It’ll only take a minute. What do you think? Wanna see what’s inside?”

“We already know what’s inside. The E-121 modules.”

“Yeah, but don’t you want to see what they look like? I do. It’s killing me not to know.”

“Why don’t you move them to the corner so they’re out of the way? The professor will be here eventually, so let’s just do what he said and not make waves.”

“You sure know how to be a buzz-kill.”

“No, what I know how to do is do what I’m told, thank you very much.”

The combination of the sharp ache in Lucas’ back, the medical bills piling up from Mom’s stint in ICU, and the fear of blowback from the paper he’d sent to Dr. Green had left him more on edge than usual.

“Where’s Trevor?” he snapped at Drew. “He’s usually here by now.”

Drew didn’t answer. His head was buried in the operations manual for their experiment. Ten seconds later, he looked up. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Where’s Trevor?”

“Probably in the cafeteria, eating.”

“There’s a shock.”

“He’s a big man. It takes a lot to fuel that engine.”

“I take it Kleezebee changed the schedule and assigned him the late shift tonight?”

“I think so, but he told me yesterday he might come in early today. Something about fixing the bug in his code.”

“Hey, I have an idea.”

“Let me guess. You wanna have Trevor move the containers for you.”

Lucas smiled. “Great minds think alike.”

“It would save your back.”

“Exactly,” Lucas said, letting the smile grow. “What’s the point of having a disgraced Olympic athlete on the team if you can’t order the brute to move your E-121 samples, and possibly your sofa? Maybe even clean the toilets.”

Drew recoiled visibly. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What?”

“That was mean and spiteful, even for you. What’s wrong with you lately?”

Lucas rubbed his temples. Sometimes his mouth spoke without thinking. “Just tired, I guess. I get a little cranky when I’m stressed. Haven’t been sleeping well the past few nights.”

“Crank-O-Potamus would be a better term.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You sleep like a rock.”

“That’s because I have no regrets. What does Mom preach to us? Treat others as you’d like to be treated.”

“Yeah, heard that one a million times.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“Enough with the Bible shit already.”

Drew rolled closer in his chair. “Trevor’s all tough on the outside, but I think he’s really sensitive about what happened to him in the Olympics. It wasn’t his fault the samples got switched.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I would never say it in front of him.”

“He’s a good friend and we need him on our team. How would you like it if your lifelong dream got taken away by one simple mistake?”

An image of Dr. Green reading his thesis and blasting him publically across the Internet flashed in his mind. “It was a joke. I was kidding.” Lucas said, wanting to change the subject. He pointed at the operations manual. “What’s so fascinating?”

“I think we need to check the calculations again.”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “You’ve been over them a thousand times. They’re perfect. Nothing’s changed.”

“Yes, it has. The power yields are lower. Someone tweaked my calculations.”

The security scanner buzzed. Lucas turned around. “What now?”

“Maybe it’s the professor.”

“About time.”

The door swung open. It was Bruno and another man, who was dressed in full business attire. The visitor’s trim-fitting suit barely drew attention away from the acne scars covering his face. The surface of an asteroid had less damage than this man’s complexion. His tie was a touch off-center and it looked like he was hopped up on caffeine based on the way he was fidgeting and moving through the door. Lucas waited for Bruno to introduce him, but the security guard closed the lab door and disappeared without saying a word.

Lucas cleared his throat. “Can I help you?”

The man squared his shoulders and stared at Drew for a few moments before turning his attention to Lucas.

“Dr. Lucas Ramsey, I presume?”

“And you are?”

“Randol Harrison Larson the Third.”

“Well, good for you.”

“Lead counsel for the Advisory Committee. Didn’t Dr. Kleezebee mention I was going to stop by?”

“Nope. But then again, we’re usually the last two people he informs—about anything.”

“He should’ve told you I needed to perform an inspection.”

“Of what?”

Larson’s face changed from a pasty white color to a pinkish-red color. “Liability. We must mitigate potential exposure for the university.”

“Our experiment?”

“Yes,” Larson said, putting his briefcase on the floor to feel around his pockets. “Damn it. I forgot my pen.” Then he threw his hands up in the air. “Shit, and my clipboard.”

“Are we having a bad day?” Drew asked in a tone that made him sound like a smart-ass.

Lucas felt awful, realizing his temperament was rubbing off on his normally sweet foster brother. He sneered at Drew, hoping to stop him from saying anything else that might add more fuel to the attorney’s fire.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Larson asked Drew.

“I was just wondering if you’re having a bad day.”

Larson’s face burned a deeper shade of red. “That’s really none of your concern, son.”

“I’m not your son.”

Lucas moved a step closer to Larson, sensing the tension mounting in the room. “I assume you have clearance for a detailed inspection? Access to this project is restricted to authorized personnel only, as prescribed under Article 2, Section 12 of the University’s Research Guidelines and Confidentiality Act of 2010.”

“And who do you think wrote those guidelines?”

“I take it you did?”

Larson grinned.

“Then you must also know we have the right to ask for proof of authorization before we show you anything.”

“I’m here under direct orders from President Lathrop.”

“That isn’t proof,” Drew said.

“No, it’s not,” Lucas added. “I’m not showing you dick without the proper paperwork.”

The strength and tone of Larson’s voice changed to a higher level. “You think you’re pretty smart, don’t you, Dr. Ramsey?”

Lucas blinked, clenching his fists. “Smart enough. Otherwise the university wouldn’t have hired me to run this project. What’s your point?”

The lawyer walked the perimeter of the room, circling around to the chamber’s control station. He looked through the observation window, then turned to Lucas.

“Yes, the university hired you, just like they did me. Which means, ultimately, we both work for President Lathrop.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“You have a job to do and so do I. That’s why President Lathrop sent me here. To do my job. And what do you think that job is?”

“To be a total pain in my ass,” Lucas quipped.

Drew laughed.

Larson didn’t. “I’m sorry you feel that way. But that still doesn’t change the fact that all of your safety protocols and material handling procedures need to be reviewed to ensure this is a safe working environment. Not only for you and your brother, but for everyone else in this building. Am I making myself clear?”

“I hear your words. But the answer is no. Hell no.” Lucas stepped around the crates to position himself better.

“Excuse me?”

“Not until Professor Kleezebee tells me himself that I should cooperate with this Gestapo bullshit. He’s the dean of the Astrophysics Department and I answer to him. Not to you. Not to President Lathrop.”

“I speak for the Advisory Committee, and Dr. Kleezebee answers to them. Therefore, I don’t need Kleezebee’s or anyone else’s permission.”

“Actually, that’s not true,” Drew mumbled.

“I thought you were here on orders from President Lathrop?” Lucas said.

“The Advisory Committee reports to the president, so both statements are true,” Larson’s voice cracked.

“Sounds like lawyer-speak to me,” Drew said with heat in his words.

“I need to review your operations manual and have you walk me through the protocols step by step,” Larson said, walking back from the control station to where he’d left his briefcase earlier. He stood at the intersecting point between Lucas, Drew, and the lab door.

Lucas folded his arms across his chest and didn’t answer. He drew in a deep breath and held it, pushing his chest out and letting his jaw stiffen.

“Are you denying my request?” the attorney asked.

Lucas nodded.

“If you won’t cooperate, then you leave me no choice. I’m shutting this project down pending a formal review.”

“You can’t do that!” Drew snapped.

“I just did,” Larson said with confidence.

Lucas exhaled slowly to control his temper. It worked. He gritted his teeth and pointed at the lab door. “There’s the exit. I suggest you use it.”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Drew said, looking at Lucas, then at the attorney.

The attorney turned to Drew with fire in his eyes and a raised fist. “Crippled little boys in wheelchairs need to keep their goddamned mouths shut!”

Lucas charged the attorney and let a punch fly without thinking. His fist landed a hard, sharp blow across the lawyer’s chin.

Larson staggered backward, falling toward the wall next to the door. His ass hit just short of the wall at an angle, then the back of his skull made impact. The man flopped to the ground with eyes closed and chest heaving.

“Lucas!” Drew yelled.

“Damn, that felt good,” he answered, shaking his hand to disburse the pain. “He picked absolutely the wrong day to threaten you.”

“I suppose he had it coming.”

“Yeah, big time. Nobody raises a hand to a Ramsay! Nobody!”

“Thanks for standing up for me.”

“That’s my job,” Lucas said, grabbing Larson’s limp body by the back of the pants and the collar of the suit. “Get the door for me,” he told Drew, pulling Larson’s frame across the floor.

As soon as Drew had the door open, Lucas drug the lawyer into the hallway, head first. He deposited Larson at the feet of Bruno, who had just entered the hallway from inside Griffith’s lab door across the hall.

Bruno’s mouth flopped open.

Drew smiled, tossing the lawyer’s briefcase on top of his body. “Well, if Randol Harrison Larson the Third wasn’t having a bad day before, he sure is now.”

Lucas laughed and looked at Bruno. “You need to call building services and tell them the trash is piling up in the hallway.”

Lucas felt the F-250 rock when he collapsed onto Masago’s chest after his orgasm released. Her feet, legs, and arms were shaking in powerful spurts, rattling the muscles of both her body and his. He felt a cold draft rise up from the passenger door and wash across his toes, which were dangling from the end of the truck’s bench seat. He unhooked his right arm from the bottom of the steering wheel and brought his hand up to her face, tucking a clump of disheveled hair behind her ear, and then spoke softly to her.