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“Rob. How’s it going?”
“Not good. I need help.”
His brows furrowed, and then he chuckled. “Yeah, I’m not really the guy to talk to. If you need help, you’re better off going to one of the other guys.”
“You don’t understand. This isn’t a Reed Security issue.”
“Ah,” he grinned. “So, it’s a woman problem.”
“No, not that either. Well, I guess it is, but not in the way you think.”
He stared at me for a moment, then leaned in close, lowering his voice. “Listen, I’m not the best person to go to for advice. But if you’re questioning…things, I would suggest going with your gut.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well…it makes sense. Honestly, I’m surprised no one’s put it together before.”
“Put what together? What are you talking about?”
“You know,” he grinned, then slapped me on the shoulder. “Listen, it’s cool. I don’t judge. Just keep the mouse in the house around me.”
As I tried to decipher what he was talking about, he strode past me for the elevator. I heard the ding, and just like that, a lightbulb went off in my head.
“Hold up!” I shouted, racing over to him, stopping the door right before it shut. “You think I’m gay?”
“Well…like I said, it makes sense.”
“In what way?” I asked, storming into the elevator.
“Uh…well, you don’t have a girlfriend, for one. And as far as I know, you’ve never had one.”
“Because Giulia won’t let me,” I bit out.
“Who’s Giulia? Oh, is she like a really good friend that’s overprotective?”
“No,” I snapped. “Giulia. The writer of all of this!”
He glanced at the screen on the wall, then stuck his hand to it. Clearing his throat, he went on. “Look, I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sure you’ve got a valid reason for being upset. I guess I’m just not the guy to talk to about all this.”
The elevator shifted, taking us up to the next level, but he wasn’t getting out of this so easily. “You have to listen to me. I just got called in for an interview with Giulia. She basically told me I won’t ever have a happily ever after.”
He nodded slightly. “You know, psychics really aren’t my thing either.”
“She’s not a psychic! I’m talking about the writer. The one who’s randomly deciding our fate on a whim!”
But instead of just owning up to the fact that he knew who I was talking about, he fucking played along. “Right. I totally get where you’re coming from. This is all very interesting. You know who’s really good at this shit? Cap. He’s the leader and—oh, look! The doors are opening.”
He practically ran away from me as soon as he got the chance. I had to make him listen. I ran up behind him and grabbed him, locking him into my grip. He thrashed in my arms, but I wasn’t giving up that easily. He would listen to me if it was the last thing he did. And right now, the way I was feeling, that might very well happen.
I dragged him back to the elevator and hit the button for the sub-basement. By now, he was passed out and dead weight in my arms. If anyone was on that level when the doors opened, I was fucked. I pulled my gun, ready to come out shooting if anyone tried to stop me.
Thankfully, the hall was empty. Peeking out, I made sure the coast was clear before dragging Ryan down to Knight’s torture chamber. His body was a lot heavier than I thought, and once inside, I had to hoist him up onto a chair and quickly wrap the tape around his arms.
Slamming the door shut, I slid the lock into place, ensuring no one would get in here without blowing up the door. Ryan’s eyes began to flutter open over the next few minutes. I took a moment to collect myself, running my fingers over my shorn hair. Fuck, this was all so wrong. I was turning on my own guys, but I didn’t see another way out of this.
“What the fuck?” Ryan muttered.
I strode forward and hit him across the face—not too hard. He was a nice guy, after all. “Wake the fuck up.”