Page 103 of Fractured Future

His shoulders quirk in another shrug. “Yep.”

“Christ. Tom is really going to kill you.”

Warner’s chin dips, a sigh spilling from his mouth. “You can break that news to him.”

“Screw that. You’re my boss, right?”

“I suppose so.”

“Then you get to break the bad news about our new living arrangement.”

With a curse so vile I’m surprised it came from someone like Warner, he heads inside the building. Hyland lingers in the entrance hall, glowering at his phone with the boxes tucked under his arm.

“Let’s make this quick. Axel has an update for us at HQ.”

“He found something?” Warner questions.

“Not sure. He didn’t go into detail.”

“Alright.” He punches the elevator button. “Let’s get this over and done with.”

As it turns out, Tom doesn’t kill his one and only best friend the second Warner breaks the news to him. Only threatens to have him arrested on trumped-up charges of kidnapping his sister. Apparently, a grown woman can’t make her own decisions.

We end up spaced out in his black-and-white tiled kitchen, multiple roaring voices lancing deep into my pounding skull. Even Hyland has intervened to try to win Tom around without luck.

The bickering rumbles on without an end in sight, causing my headache to reach bone-splitting levels of agony. I’m still in sweaty workout gear, and now I’m choking on testosterone too.

Shakily downing a glass of tepid water, I try to focus on breathing evenly to hold myself together. This is not the time to break down or black out.

“She isn’t joining anything! Forget it!”

“Listen, Tom…”

“No! She’s my sister. My responsibility. The answer is no.”

“She’s an adult!”

“Whose side are you on?”

When their yells reach a fever pitch, a hot wave of anger and indignation causes me to erupt as I slam the glass down on the kitchen counter. It loudly cracks, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Enough!” I abruptly yell.

Hands raised in the air, Tom rounds on me. “Don’t even get me started on you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re acting like a child. What the hell kind of idea is this, Em? You’re not a spy!”

“I’m not anything!”

“You’re safe and free! You’ve got your life back!”

Anguish is a sharp dagger, sliding deeply into my gut. “My life is fucking gone!”

When he tries to argue, a sob unexpectedly bursts out of me. The sound is guttural, animalistic. So out of my control, it makes me feel like I’m about to lose it.

“It’s gone!” I scream at him.