Secret Worlds (534 page)

Samson’s on the run, but why does it feel like I’m the one being locked away?

I knew what I had to do. One way or another, I was going to have to end this. I only hoped that I would live to tell the tale. Giving Holbrook’s bedroom, with its gaping window, a final look, I slung my bags over my shoulder and walked out into the living room where my
Men in Black
entourage waited to escort me downtown.

“Let’s go, fellas,” I said as I cut a path through them, scooping Loki up from the back of the recliner on my way out the door. I knew Santos and Holbrook were watching me, but didn’t dare look at either one of them for fear that it would break my fragile resolve.

***

Holbrook sat in the back of the SUV with me as we drove from his house to FBI headquarters, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk. I hadn’t realized how long it had taken for the bodies of the security detail to be removed from the property and for us to be given the all-clear to move out until I gazed out of the car window and saw the sun alighting on the horizon. Rush hour traffic was already at work clogging the highways, slowing our progress to an excruciatingly slow crawl along the highway. Every impatient honk of a horn or hiss of a semi’s airbrakes set my nerves on edge.

Holbrook’s hand settling over my bouncing knee clued me in to the nervous tick, and pulled my gaze away from the traffic jam.

“Hey,” he said, offering me a smile that should have set me at ease. Instead it made the anxiety claw at my gut with renewed vigor, reminding me that all too soon I’d be running out on him, leaving him possibly for the last time.

“Hey,” I replied, unable to muster up the energy to force a smile of my own.

“We’re going to figure this out. We’re going to get Reed, I promise.”

Pretty words, it’s a pity they don’t come with any guarantees.

Rather than speaking my bitter thoughts, I nodded and compressed my lips into what I hoped looked like a smile. Mollified by my reaction, he squeezed my leg and turned his attention to his buzzing phone, though he left his hand in place to trace circles against the side of my knee with his thumb. Normally I would have reveled in the affectionate contact, my years of solitude having not erased my need for human touch, but the small repetitive motion just made my skin crawl with the desire to get away.

I spent the remainder of the drive across town trying to figure out how the hell I was going to sneak away from the FBI, and by the time we pulled into the parking garage my stomach had been reduced to a writhing ball of nervous energy, making me feel as if my gut held a bowl of wriggling snakes.

“You okay?” Holbrook asked, drawing me out of my uneasy thoughts.

Rubbing at my gritty eyes I replied, “Hmm? Oh. Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. It’s been a long couple of days.”

Grasping my hand, he squeezed my fingers. “It’ll be over soon.”

It took a herculean effort to stop the hysterical laughter from bubbling up out of my throat. Instead, I forced a wan smile and squeezed his hand in reply, hoping he’d let the subject go.

You have no idea.

AN AURA OF sadness had fallen over the building, word of the incident spreading quickly, leaving everyone cocooned in their own bubbles of sadness and introspection. The usual sounds of dozens of people going about their daily business still filled the open work space when the elevator doors opened, but they seemed hushed somehow, and there were several groups gathered together speaking in low voices. Many of them stopped when I stepped out of the elevator, their eyes tracking my movement. Most of them just looked at me with the same sense of sadness and loss as they did their coworkers, but more than a couple had an accusatory glint in their eyes.

I hung my head and trudged along behind Holbrook like a recalcitrant child being led to the principal’s office, wishing that the floor would open up and swallow me whole.

The sooner I get out of here the better.

We settled in Holbrook’s office, the air of melancholy extending even into his small corner of the building. He looked bone tired, as if the weight of the world were resting on his shoulders, and I supposed that in some ways it was. He was as responsible for the deaths that morning as I was, and that had to have been weighing heavily on his mind. He had known those men, worked with them, risked his life alongside them, and now they were gone, their lives so easily, and pointlessly snuffed out. Because of me.

Dumping his backpack next to the desk, he ran his fingers through his hair, causing it to stick up in a messy, dark halo. He looked vulnerable when he collapsed into his chair, and I mourned the loss of the innocence my actions had stolen from him. I had done that to him, perhaps not directly, but through the mere act of knowing me, he’d lost a part of himself that made him the righteous man he was. The self-hatred, and weary creases around his eyes helped to solidify my plan to leave. I just had to wait for the right time to do it.

Following his lead, I settled into the chair in front of the desk and waited. I was sure that at some point he’d leave to fetch some coffee, giving me the chance to make a break for it, and maybe even have a few precious moments to say goodbye to my best friend. Unfortunately, he seemed more driven than ever, and it didn’t take long for me to realize that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

I spent the next thirty minutes watching the clock mounted on the wall, convinced that someone had tampered with it to make it run at an agonizingly slow pace. There was no way that thirty minutes could feel like three hours.

Oh, come on! Don’t you have to pee or something?
I wanted to ask as I stared at him pounding away on his keyboard. I wished that somehow he’d pick up on the thoughts I was projecting, but instead was left to watch as his attention flip-flopped between his monitor and the spread of scattered papers on his desk.

Now what do I do? I can’t sit here forever
.

It wasn’t outside the realm of plausibility to just get up and leave, supplying him with some excuse about going to the bathroom, but was I really prepared to leave without saying goodbye to Loki? Guilt tore at me when I glanced down at his carrier sitting on the floor next to the desk. He’d been my only real friend for almost a decade, and the thought of leaving him hurt more than anything else Samson might do to me. Tears began to gather in my eyes, and I wiped them away before Holbrook saw them and questioned me. If he asked what was wrong I’d spill it all in a heartbeat.

Though I’m not sure he’d even notice
, I thought, glancing up to where he sat with his uninjured hand pecking at the keyboard, the other fisted in his hair.

Turning back to look at Loki, I was struck by how his violet eyes appeared to shine in the gloom as he watched me through the bars. His gaze held an intensity I’d not often seen, as though he felt the weight of my impending departure as much as I did. Seeing me looking at him, he let out a short, chirping meow, and before I realized what I was doing I slid out of my chair to sit cross-legged on the floor.

Propping the door to the carrier open, I welcomed him into my lap and struggled to staunch the tears that rose in my eyes. It would’ve been all too easy to break down into a sobbing mess and change my mind about going, and as I trailed my fingers over his silken fur, I was tempted to do just that. I knew without a doubt that I had to leave, but the rational voice sounded so small in the sea of emotions clamoring for attention. The fact that Loki looked at me with an accusatory expression, as if he knew I was leaving, didn’t make my decision any easier.

“I love you
so
much, buddy,” I whispered, bowing my head to rest my forehead against his. “I’m so glad came into my life, and so grateful that you chose me to be your guardian.”

Try as I might, there was no way I could stop the tears from slipping over my cheeks when he placed his paws on my shoulders, giving me a kitty hug.

“Take care of the cowboy for me, okay? He’s going to need a friend when this is over,” I said, no longer resentful of their bromance. Knowing that they’d have each other after I was gone helped to ease some of the heaviness in my heart.

As much as the restless energy thrumming in my veins made me want to leap up and get the hell out of there, I selfishly allowed myself to remain on the floor snuggling with Loki for several minutes. I wished that I could have shared a similar farewell with Holbrook, but I knew that he’d lock me away at the first mention of facing Samson alone. While the white knight act was romantic, it was likely to get him killed.

For once, the fates appeared to be on my side, granting me a few extra minutes with them both. Content that I’d said my goodbyes to Loki, I started to get up from the floor when a puffy-eyed agent brought in a couple sandwiches and cups of tepid coffee, breaking through Holbrook’s concentration. Relief and irritation warred for dominance while I rose to my feet, relief winning out as I accepted the plastic encased sandwich and returned to my chair.

I hadn’t realized how long it had been since I ate until I tore open the carton and my stomach clenched in hunger. Drawn by the prospect of food, Loki jumped up into my lap, looking at my sandwich with the intensity of a teenage boy glimpsing tits for the first time. When my stomach gave another hungry spasm, I figured he had to be ready to eat his own tail. Flinging the wilted piece of lettuce into the trashcan by the door, I tore off a chunk of soggy bread and mystery meat for Loki and then took a large bite. Vending machine food had never tasted so good.

Together, we made short work of the first half of the sandwich, and were starting in on the second when Holbrook broke the silence. “You’d better slow down or you’re going to choke.”

Looking up I was surprised to see him watching me over the rim of his cup, his eyes tired and bloodshot but filled with affection. Washing down my last bite with a gulp of lukewarm coffee, I paused to pick an errant piece of tomato off my shirt to hide the guilt that was surely plain on my face.

“Anything new?” I asked, gesturing to the open file in front of him with a tilt of my chin, hoping to distract him from the remorse burning a hole in the middle of my chest.

Running his hand across his face, he sighed and set his cup aside. “Nothing of use. There have been plenty of reported sightings of Samson, but nothing concrete. He’s moving erratically, so we can’t track him or predict where he’s going to show up next.”

“What about Johnson?”

“We’re looking for him, but so far we’ve come up with nothing. CSU is still processing the house, so who knows, we may get lucky,” he said, forcing a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

The talk of my two would-be assassins stole away my appetite, and where I had all but inhaled the first half of my sandwich, I could do little more than absently pick at the crust of the second before eventually tossing the rest of it onto the floor for Loki. As soon as he jumped down to demolish what was left, I went about brushing the crumbs and cat hair off my lap. It was a futile effort, in regards to the cat hair at least, but I needed something to keep my hands busy while my mind twisted itself into knots of logic. I knew one way to figure out where Samson was going to be, and that only I could lure him out.

It was time to quit stalling.

I wasn’t ready to go, but I knew that if I waited until I felt ready I’d be waiting until the end of time, and Samson would track me down and finish me off long before then. Rising from my chair, I brushed imaginary crumbs from my shirt, stealing just a few more precious moments to watch them.

“I’m…ah…gonna visit the ladies room,” I said, hoping Holbrook wouldn’t notice the guilty quaver in my voice.

“Okay. Out past the elevators to the left,” he replied without looking up, once again engrossed in the report on his desk. He looked so much like a lost little boy with his hair sticking up in a dozen different directions and a half eaten sandwich beside his elbow.

Lingering in the doorway I watched him, wondering if I’d ever see him again. We’d barely known each other for a week, but as sappy as it sounds, it felt like so much longer. I’d been drawn towards him from the first innocent brush of his fingers, and the events of the past few days had only worked to deepen our connection.

“Bye, Darius,” I whispered, and turned to walk away.

I got a few inquisitive looks as I strode down the hallway but no one stopped me until I had passed the elevators and was angling towards the stairs.

“Hey, Riley. You lost?” Tillman asked in a voice full of friendliness and innocence.

Shit.

Plastering a smile on my face that felt more like a grimace, I turned to face the exuberant young agent.

“Oh, hey Tillman. I was looking for the ladies room.”

“You’re almost there. They’re just down the hall.”

“Would you mind showing me?” I asked, turning up the charm, and throwing in a coy tilt of my head for good measure.

For a moment he didn’t look like he’d cooperate, confusion creasing his brow, but then a smile split his face as his cheeks colored.

“Sure thing.”

Damn, I guess Holbrook was right
—
the kid is sweet on me.

Gesturing for him to go ahead of me, I glanced around quickly to make sure that no one could see us, and delivered a knockout punch to the back of his head. He stumbled forward a couple of steps, but didn’t go down.

Aw, come on! It always looks so easy in the movies.

“What the hell?” he asked, rubbing the back of his head as he turned around to face me.

Grinning sheepishly I shrugged and said, “Sorry.”

“What was that for?” he demanded, shock giving way to irritation and suspicion. While one hand remained on the goose egg blooming on the back of his skull the other moved towards the gun at his hip.

Well, that took care of his crush at least.

“Sorry, Tillman. I’ve got to get out of here, and right now you’re the only thing standing in my way.”

“You know I can’t let you leave.”

“I do. That’s why I have to do this.”