Page 31 of Duty Compromised

“Charlotte, you can’t take classified materials home. You could lose your job.”

“People could lose their lives if I don’t finish this code.”

Darcy chewed her bottom lip, calculating risks like she calculated system loads. Which made sense—she’d been helping me architect the entire stabilizer framework from the beginning. She understood exactly how critical this was. “What do you need?”

“The backup drive with the current code base, my laptop obviously, the encryption key generator…” I rattled off several more items while Darcy nodded. “And I need to get out without anyone following me.”

“This is a terrible idea.”

“Probably. Will you help me anyway?”

She sighed. “Of course I will. But if you get fired, you better not dime a sister out.”

I wasn’t sure what those actual words meant, but I was pretty sure it meant she didn’t want to get fired with me.

“How’s everything going?”

Ty’s voice sent involuntary electricity through my nervous system. I spun in my chair too fast, sending my mouse skittering across the floor.

“Great! Everything’s great. Just…working. On work things.”

Smooth, Charlotte. Really selling the normal behavior.

He bent to retrieve the mouse, and I absolutely did not notice how his shirt pulled taut across his shoulders. When he straightened, he stood closer than before, close enough that I could count individual eyelashes if I were that type of person. Which I wasn’t.

“You sure you’re okay? You seem a little jumpy.”

“Caffeine. Too much caffeine.” I grabbed my empty coffee mug as evidence, accidentally sending half my papers sliding to the floor. “Actually, I should probably eat something. Blood sugar, like you’re always telling me.”

We both crouched to gather the papers, our fingers brushing as we reached for the same sheet. The contact sent sparks racing up my arm, and I jerked back hard enough to nearly lose my balance.

“Sorry, I?—”

“No, it’s?—”

We spoke simultaneously, then both stopped. The silence stretched taut between us, charged with unspoken possibility.

“I should go…organize these,” I said, clutching the papers against my chest like armor. “In the break room. That’s where I’ll be. Organizing. Working. Until it’s time to go home.”

I grimaced. Could I sound any less intelligent?

Before he could respond, I grabbed my lunch box and the countermeasure drive and damned near everything else on my desk and shoved it into my computer bag. My brain refused to track what went where. I could organize later. I just needed to take the stuff and get out.

“I’ll come with you,” Ty offered.

“No!” The word came out sharp enough to cut glass. Several heads swiveled our direction. “I mean, no need. I’m just going to be boring in the break room. Organizing. Very boring organizing.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, that investigator’s instinct probably pinging like sonar. But Darcy, blessed Darcy, chose that moment to appear at his elbow.

“Ty! Can I get your help over at your desk? I need to talk to you for a minute. Let’s let Charlotte work before she bites our heads off for distracting her.”

I didn’t wait to hear his response. Grabbing my computer bag and lunch box, I speed-walked toward the break room, attempting casual and achieving something probably a lot closer to fugitive.

I stayed in the break room for two minutes. I counted the seconds off against the door, my heart drumming a techno beat against my ribs. This was insane. I wrote code, not performed covert operations.

I eased the door open. Down the hall, Ty stood with his back to me, Darcy gesturing animatedly as she monopolized his attention. Perfect.

Moving with all the stealth my sensible flats could manage, I headed for the exit. Twenty feet. Fifteen. Ten.