Page 47 of Bad Enough

Waters sighed and shook his head. “Should we pinky promise on that?” he snarked.

“You know that you and Kubrick are melding into the same person, right? It’s hot and creepy all at the same time.”

“Deflection. Shut up and tell me your deep, dark secret. And no, I won’t tell anyone, a.k.a. Nemo.”

TB took a deep breath, held it a moment, then exhaled. “We’d been talking online for a while. I figured it would be a couple of conversations and done. But somehow, it turned into every night I wasn’t on a project. Then, while we were in Roatán, something changed. I started texting her. The gaps between texts got smaller. The conversations were no longer about the research. It began to get more personal, I guess.”

Elbows propped on the desktop, TB ran his hands over his face, over the top of his head, and laced his fingers behind his neck, his face turned down. Gathering himself, he willed his body to relax and return to an upright position in his chair. “I knew within an hour of getting home I needed to get out of here, or I was gonna pound you to a pulp for your dumbassery, so I went to the club. I was twitchy. Thought maybe a scene would help me work out whatever was poking at me. I realized I’d been going to the club for months but never left the bar area. It just didn’t hold my interest anymore, and within minutes of being there, I knew that I wasn’t going to be participating after all.”

TB continued, “By the next morning, I finally admitted that what I needed was to talk to Flame. It was so strong I couldn’t have denied myself if I’d wanted to. And then shit got out of hand.”

“How so?”

“I engaged her in an online practical application of BDSM. That led to an invitation to meet at the club, which she agreed to the next day.”

“That was the phone call you got when we were in the meeting.”

“Right. We met up, we had a scene…” TB couldn’t say it.

“Ahhhh.” Waters connected the dots. “‘Out of hand’ meaning it went too well.”

TB looked at his boss with surprise.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m an analyst. It means I take shit apart and look at the pieces to see how they work as a whole.” He counted off the evidence on his fingers. “One, based on her reaction to seeing you, she was obviously shocked. Two, Demon said she couldn’t even look at you when you appeared in the break room, which suggests that she was embarrassed. Three, she did agree to talk to you, but only if people weren’t in the room—so, hurt, but not angry. And four,” he added with a shrug, “because I know your defense mechanisms.”

Waters stared at TB. Instead of tapping, now Waters’ thumb and first two fingers were rubbing against each other. TB didn’t know how long they sat there in silence, but as he watched the spidey senses take over Waters’ brain, TB diverted his attention back to the blank computer screen.

I know that look. Shit. Here it comes.

Finally, Waters asked the question that TB was trying to figure out himself. “How do you feel about her?”

And that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?

For the briefest of moments, TB considered playing dumb. However, he respected his team leader too much to start now. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Well. Not what I was expecting to come out of your mouth.”

“I’m pissed that someone's terrorizing her. I’m thrilled to see her, even if it’s for fucked up reasons. I’m…”

“In a panic because when you look at her, your lungs won’t inflate? Can’t think clearly because you’re torn between wanting to kiss the hell out of her and wanting to spank her ass because she doesn’t realize just how bad this situation is? In a blind fury because you want to use your bare hands to strangle the shitweasel who’s terrorizing her? Should I go on?”

Closing his eyes, TB pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “I fucked up. Majorly.” TB took a breath and let it out. “I didn’t talk to her for a week afterward. Well, technically, I never talked to her at all. Eventually, I thought better of my stupidity. I went back online the night before we went to Egypt to explain why I did what I did or what I’d convinced myself was why I did it, but she never showed up. So I left her an email telling her that I’d given her all I could and that she was good to move on with her research with others, basically. I should have texted her. Called her. Had Midas find her. Anything but what I did.”

Waters nodded in commiseration. “Yeah. Know the feeling well.” Waters exhaled, moderating his frustration and leaning against the sofa back again. “I wish I could tell you those feelings will pass quickly, but I’m guessing it’s going to take a while for you to get your shit straightened out.”

“Nothing to straighten out. I’m not good for her.”

“Yeah. I had that conversation with myself, and a couple of the team members, as well. Remember?”

“It’s not the same.”

Waters shrugged. “Yeah, it is, but I get why you feel that way right now. It’s going to be a bumpy ride, and the guys, including me, are going to give you no end of shit, but you’ll figure it out eventually.”

TB grunted.

Shifting gears, Waters gave him the bad news. “In the here and now, we have a connection between Flame and the disappearances, and it’s not a pretty one.”

“Steel said your spidey senses were tingling.”

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