Page 55 of Fool Me Twice

“We can move on later,” Fix said, shaking his head. “Our intuition was always our strength. Talk the rest of it out with me.”

Hart let out a frustrated sigh but complied, pointing at the screen again.

“If this Cane thing really is a curse,” he said, chasing after the loose threads in his head. “It’s definitely shared between multiple people. None of whom diagnosed as cursed. What if it’s not spreading like a virus? What if it’s like an unwanted gift you just pass on to someone else to get rid of it?”

“Is that even possible?” Fix asked, eyes wide.

“I have no idea,” Hart said, dropping the stylus and letting it roll away from him. It rattled across the table and fell off the edge. Hart realized he didn’t really care. He ran a hand through his hair, stopping at the nape and tugging. Just a little bit. Just enough to make it sting. “I’ve never seen anything like that before, but…humanity is depraved beyond what we know. The creativity born from their desire to hurt knows no bounds. Someone could have done it. Somehow.”

Fix stared at him for a long moment, mouth slack.

“That’s fucking terrifying,” he said finally, and Hart nodded. “Okay so…how do we figure out if this potential curse of Cane’s is being passed along like a hot potato?”

Hart’s phone pinged, and he stuttered on his next sentence. “I…I…”

Fix looked from him to the phone, then reached out.

Hart was faster, whipping his hand out and pulling it to his chest defensively. He realized that what was making his heart beat in his throat and making him feel sick wasn’t Fix seeing it was from Cane. It was Fix seeing anything Cane had written at all. Twisted possessiveness was making him greedy, hoarding every word for himself.

Fix let his outstretched arm drop to the table in shock. “Hart…”

“Transfer curses are the only ones I know of that act even remotely similarly, and like I said, they use negative emotions to travel. All the people involved in this are people Cane trusts. People who are good with him,” he rambled, trying to blanket everything under professionalism. Like he wasn’t falling apart at the seams.

Fix wouldn’t let him pretend anymore.

“Something has to be wrong, Hart. I’ve never seen you this wound up. You’re acting erratic and you can’t sit still. It’s not like you. You’re not acting like yourself.”

Hart wanted to laugh out loud.

This is the me I don’t let you see.

But he couldn’t say that. He didn’t even want to admit it to himself. He didn’t want to acknowledge the person who had always lurked alongside the serene, composed demeanor he presented to the world. He was two different people living in one body, fighting for control because he refused to let them coexist.

“This case is just throwing me off.”

“Is it Cane?” Fix continued to press. “Is he the one that’s texting you? He’s the only one who’s ever been able to get under your skin in this way.”

Fix was too shrewd for his own good.

“He just wants updates on the case, and I don’t have any. It’s…frustrating. That’s all.”

Fix huffed a breath through his nose at the dismissal, and they fell awkwardly silent for a moment, a barrier between them.

“Are you sure he’s telling you everything?” Fix said quietly.

Hart snapped his head around to look at him, and narrowed his eyes before he could check the response. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a shady world, Hart, you know that. You’re the one who points it out every time Cane comes up in conversation,” Fix said. “Most people have a hidden agenda.”

Hart gripped the edge of the desk tightly, something ugly rearing up inside him. “He wouldn’t lie to me.”

Fix raised a brow. “Why not? Doesn’t he lie for a living?”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Why are you suddenly defending him?” Fix asked incredulously.

Because the alternative would make him explode. It was already a lit fuse inside his chest waiting to go off.

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