Page 25 of Colin Gets Promoted and Dooms the World

He stared down into my eyes as he slowly, hesitantly, brought his lips to mine.

Our noses bumped, there was a quick scrape of his stubble against mine, and then I melted into his arms. It was by far the best kiss of my entire life—gentle but passionate, strong but yielding, a hint of tongue but nothing sleazy.

I pressed myself into his warm body, my hands low on his hips, and drank him in.

When we finally came up for air, there were a couple of sardonic wolf whistles from a group of people walking past. Dazed, like I’d been hit over the head, all I could do was give him a tremulous smile as we drew apart.

“Wow,” he said.

“Yeah,” I breathed.

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

We looked at each other as a cold wind tugged at our hair.

My fears of a moment ago weren’t gone, but they had receded a little.

“I wish I could get in a car and drive away,” I said, a little awkwardly.

“But I can’t. Not yet, anyhow.” If I was going to stop the Thing, I couldn’t run off to Poughkeepsie for some light antiquing.

Eric gave me a sad little smile. “Okay. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together.”

By unspoken agreement, we turned and started walking toward the 190th Street station, clasping hands once more.

The skies had darkened enough that the lamps lining the park’s paths had started to flicker on, leaving deep pools of shadow between them.

Trees and greenery crowded close as we rounded a bend, and I leaned into him as I said, “Why don’t you come home with me?

Amira and I were going to make something simple for dinner, and she’s an amazing cook. ”

“That sounds nice, actually,” he murmured, giving me a smile that seemed more genuine this time. A moment later, his steps slowed and then stopped, his hand tightening on mine as he stared at something ahead.

“What’s up?” I came to a stop as well, looking from him to the path stretching ahead of us. We were alone, the only sound that of leaves sighing and fluttering in the wind.

Rather than answering me, he called out, “I know you’re there.”

Nothing happened. I was holding my breath, I realized.

Exhaling a little shakily, I was about to speak when two people stepped into view from either side of the pathway, materializing out of the gloom.

They were dressed identically in black, masks pulled up over their lower faces and gloves on their hands.

Muggers, I thought with a sudden surge of fear.

Then I saw the steel-rimmed glasses the taller individual was wearing, and my heart stuttered painfully in my chest.

It was him—the man from the subway, from outside my building.

From the Firing Squad.

A hot wave of panic rose up within me. Dark Enterprises had finally realized what I’d done, and I was about to disappear.

Frantically, I turned to Eric. I’d put him in terrible danger, again, but if he ran now, there was a chance he’d survive.

Surely the Firing Squad didn’t need to terminate him.

“You need to go,” I tried to say, but my throat had closed so tightly that I managed only a strangled grunt.

Eric didn’t look frightened. In fact, he looked weirdly calm as he shifted his left foot forward and leaned back a little on his right, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it. “Turn around and walk away,” he said loudly to the people in front of us.

The man’s brow furrowed. “Don’t be stupid,” he called back in a deep voice muffled slightly by the mask over his nose and mouth. There was a hint of an accent—Slavic, maybe? “Give us what we want.”

His companion stepped forward and I received another shock.

Shorter than me, she wore her blond hair braided into a familiar coil on the back of her head.

So she had been following me the other day.

Her movements were lithe and confident as she started toward us.

In response, Eric stepped in front of me, squaring his shoulders and lifting his hands as if to ward her away.

Heart pounding, I said urgently, “Eric. Don’t.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he told the woman, “You don’t want to do this.”

“You’re the one making things difficult,” she replied as she drew closer. Her hands came up as well, eyes reflecting the hazy glow of the nearest lamp. “Stand down.”

Instinctively, I retreated a couple of steps.

Her gaze flicked past Eric to me, and then she darted forward, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat.

Eric moved to intercept her and threw a quick flurry of punches, hands moving faster than I could follow.

Rather than fighting back, she dodged each blow and then stepped back, eyes narrowed above her mask.

“Eric!” I shouted, panicking now. I was terrified that our attackers would pull out knives or guns if he continued to resist. “Stop, please! They don’t want you!”

His head turned as he glanced over his shoulder at me. Hands still raised in front of himself, he returned his attention to the Firing Squad. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, “but if you touch him, I will end you both.”

My heart rate accelerated as the tall man started forward with a barely audible snarl.

The woman looked at me again, then flung herself past Eric, ducking under his warning jab.

He pivoted and lashed out with a kick that connected with her knee, and she hissed as her leg crumpled beneath her.

Then the other assailant was there, looming over Eric as he shoved him aside, gaze fixed on me.

Eric stumbled and almost fell as I backed away, but then he lunged forward and hooked a foot behind the man’s heavy boot, giving him a brutal shove that sent him toppling to the ground.

The man’s glasses went flying onto the darkened pathway with a faint clatter.

Everything stopped for a moment. The woman in black stood several paces away, watching Eric warily, clearly unable to put her full weight on her injured knee.

Eric remained where he was, breathing quickly but steadily, watching as the taller man rolled quickly to his feet, hooked his glasses back over his ears, and then settled into a relaxed stance.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” the man growled. “I’m going to—”

The wail of a siren cut him off. It was coming from Cabrini Boulevard, hidden by greenery but not far from where we stood.

Its proximity made our two assailants look swiftly at each other.

Then they started to back away, the woman limping heavily.

Eric stayed where he was, and together we watched as the pair retreated until they disappeared around another bend.

“Jesus,” I muttered shakily. Stepping quickly to Eric’s side, I reached out and touched his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He waited for a few moments, gaze locked on the path ahead of us, before relaxing a little and turning to face me. “I’m fine. They didn’t hit me.”

“Where did you learn to fight like that?”

Lifting his shoulders in a shrug, he said, “I took martial arts as a kid. And I box.”

My fingers tightened on his shoulder. “They could have killed you.”

“I told you,” Eric said quietly, gazing into my eyes. “All I want is to keep you safe.”

“That’s very noble,” I said a little hoarsely, “but please try not to die, okay? I have an extensive list of things I want to do to you, and I would be devastated if I had to throw it away.”

He gave me a quick smile as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Hang tight, okay? I’m going to call the police.” At my nod, he walked a few paces away and stood in the middle of the darkened pathway, phone to his ear.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I shivered in the chilly wind, eyeing the nearby greenery as if it might disgorge more assailants.

The terror I’d felt moments ago was starting to crystallize into resignation, dark and heavy.

Dark Enterprises had sent the Firing Squad after me, and Eric had almost become collateral damage. I couldn’t let that happen.

I knew what I had to do.

Something glittered on the ground, lying where Eric had knocked down the other man.

I stooped and picked up a circular pendant, its slim chain broken and trailing.

It was made of silver, one side embossed with the raised image of an open hand surrounded by seven stars.

I turned it over, angling it so it caught the light of the closest lamp, and spotted a series of tiny, unfamiliar markings.

“Okay,” Eric said, “the police are on their way.”

Closing my hand around the pendant, I gave him a shaky smile. “Great.”

He studied me as he drew closer. “Are you okay?”

“Honestly? No. I’m freaked out.”

Carefully, he wrapped me in a hug. “Me too. But as soon as we give our statements to the police, I’ll get you home. I don’t think I’ll stay for dinner, though. I’ve kind of lost my appetite.”

When they arrived, the police told us bluntly there was nothing they could do, which was less than encouraging.

At least they promised to file a report.

After we gave them our statements, Eric held my hand the whole ride back to Hamilton Heights and only released me once we were standing outside the door to my apartment building.

“I’m sorry things didn’t end well,” he murmured, a little ruefully.

“Me too,” I said quietly.

“Call me when you wake up tomorrow, okay? I want to know that you’re safe.”

Nodding, I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Okay. You be safe as well. Text me when you get home.”

I put my hand on the door to my building, then paused to watch Eric walk away.

He’d almost been hurt because of me, and I couldn’t let that happen again.

Tomorrow, I would tell Ms. Crenshaw everything.

My termination was a foregone conclusion, but at least Eric would be safe.

The executive board could stop the Thing on their own, once I explained what I’d done, and the city would return to normal.

Too bad I wouldn’t be around to see it.

Amira was understandably horrified when I told her what had happened. “How awful,” she said as she wrapped herself around me in a hug. “But you’re okay?”

“Just a little shaken up.”

“I’m so glad Eric was there.” The side of her face pressed against my chest, she looked up at me as she added, “It’s very romantic of him. Saving you, I mean.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “He’s amazing. I’ve really fallen for him.”

She pushed herself away from me so that she could peer up into my face. “Then why do you sound so sad?”

I forced myself to smile. “Because nothing lasts forever,” I told her quietly.

Later, in my bedroom, I fished the strange pendant out of my pocket and studied it again.

Then I dropped it into the messenger bag I took to work.

I’d hand it over to Ms. Crenshaw when I confessed my sins.

Hopefully I could persuade her to call off the Firing Squad before I was terminated.

Eric and Amira didn’t deserve to suffer for my mistakes.

No one did, I admitted grudgingly. Well, except for the bullies, and the stupid, and the people who got everything because they were beautiful.

They deserved to suffer for the rest of time.

I felt a strange kind of peace as I waited for sleep to come. Tomorrow, I’d face the consequences of my choices. It wasn’t how I’d wanted my story to end, but as long as the people I cared about were safe, it would have to be enough.