Page 52 of Red Fury

I’m a complete asshole.

I was so frantic after learning about the nuclear weapons, so desperate to know if she’d gathered any information that could help us understand the scope of the threat, that I took my fear and frustration out on her.

I was still right to question her, but I didn’t have to be such a dick about it.

“You okay, Marsh?” Webb asks, studying my face with concern. “You look a little…I don’t know…off.”

“I’m fine,” I manage, though I feel anything but. “Just thinking about the schedule tomorrow.”

We reach the elevators, and Webb pushes the down button.

“Don’t think about the schedule. Your mind should be on tonight. Have a few drinks, relax. I want you on good terms with Kozlov. He likes you.” Webb gives me a strange look.

“What?”

“Maybe get yourself laid.” He chuckles. “A guy like you should have no trouble. You’re wound up tight. Lord knows I would be on the prowl if I were young and single to mingle.” He bumps his shoulder against mine.

“This is business, sir.”

“Laurence,” he corrects.

“Laurence.”

“Relax. There is no reason why it can’t be a bit of both.” Webb winks at me.

We get out of the elevator and walk through the reception area that leads outside. Thompson and Webb are talking about which celebs might be at the club tonight. I couldn’t give a shit. I need to try to pretend to care, so I laugh at something supposedly funny that Thompson says.

My mind keeps going to thoughts of Shadow, which needs to stop.

There’s nothing I can do to fix it now, not tonight, anyway. I need to focus on the task at hand: rubbing elbows with Kozlov and gathering whatever intelligence I can from this club visit. It’s the last thing I feel like doing right now, but it’s necessary.

Maybe I’ll learn something that can help us both.

“There’s our ride,” Webb says, pointing to a black sedan that just pulled up to the curb.

We start walking toward the Uber when Thompson suddenly stops, patting his pockets with increasing urgency.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Webb asks.

“My wallet. I left it in my room.” Thompson groans. “I’m such an idiot. I pulled it out to tip the room service guy earlier and left it on the dresser. I’d better go back for it.”

Webb checks his watch and sighs. “Hurry!”

“Five minutes, tops. You guys wait here?”

I nod.

“Yes. Go already.” Webb waves him away, sounding irritated.

Thompson jogs back toward the hotel entrance, leaving Webb and me standing on the sidewalk beside the idling Uber.

I’m tempted to lie about my wallet being in my hotel room, too, so that I can go back and apologize to Shadow.

I don’t!

I really need to get a grip.