Page 124 of Good Enough

She grimaced.

“And there’s the unintentional speaking.” He grinned briefly. “It’s for all of them. I’m not a monster, Kubrick. No one should go through life alone. But if they’re going to get involved with someone, romantically or otherwise, the consequences can be astronomical for all of the team. Therefore, it had better be someone whom it’s worth breaking the rule for. No one leaves the tribe. Because to be let go from the tribe means to be let go from this world. And not just digitally erased.”

The weight of God’s words lay heavily on her heart. “I’m not worth that.”

“He feels differently. And the fact that every single one of his team would throw down for you and him should tell you that you are worth it. Especially Demon, whose damage goes so deep, I don’t know that he can ever redeem himself. But mark my words, if any of them felt you were less than worth it, they would let him know. None of those men are shy about sharing their opinions.”

“I don’t want him to give up what he loves. He loves this job. If this is it, then he should do it.”

“I’m losing the operative, Kubrick, not the man. He’ll continue on as he has been this past year. He has a true talent for the work. He’s a fantastic operative, but he’s an even better analyst, which I knew he would be one day, and why I recruited him to begin with. He just needed time to mature from the hothead that he was. And now that he’s found someone to stand beside him, he’s an even better man. Or, at the very least, he’s found someone to kick his ass to make sure he stays that way.” He glared at her. “Take care of him, Kubrick.”

Kai stood shakily from the table and began to cross to the elevator. It was when she got level with his office that she stopped flat-footed. On her way in, the partially open door had been in such a position that she couldn’t see inside. Now, coming from the opposite direction, she could. Her curiosity got the better of her, so she walked to the threshold and gently eased the office door open further.

Without realizing she had done so, she stepped into the center of the room and turned three hundred and sixty degrees, finding herself closed in by walls covered in framed movie poster prints. The Shining. A Clockwork Orange. Paths of Glory. Lolita. More. They appeared to run completely around the room like a fence line.

When she was facing the doorway, it was to see him following her with the help of a wheelchair.

“I wondered why ‘Kubrick’ for my name. A bit of a fanboy?” she teased.

His gaze locked with hers, and she saw respect within. “Because from the very first, you reminded me of his story. You carry so many of his traits. Self-taught. No patterns to your work in terms of content. You allow your actors to create and be a part of the birthing and aging of the film. You plan meticulously, but you also are willing to recognize when something doesn’t work, that the plan can be improvised upon successfully. But most important? You refuse to sacrifice art for art’s sake.”

“That’s how you run your team.”

“I allow them to run by themselves. Like you, I merely facilitate. Just like you do with your actors. You and I are not so different.”

She bowed her head at him. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For looking out for me. For rescuing my brother’s wife and son. For continuing to look for my brother. For gifting me Taj.”

“Thank you for recognizing that he is, in fact, a gift. But don’t thank me until your brother is home, safe and sound, to be with his wife and child.” He scowled. “Go to Taylor, Kai. Kick his ass for not discussing his choice with you, then kiss and make up. And tell him that I don’t want to see him for at least four weeks.”

With a grin, she replied, “You know he won’t listen.”

“No, he’s stubborn. He’s already planning to be back in two weeks. That is when I really want him back anyway. And then he’ll say fuck it and stay out six weeks just to be an assclown.” He winked. “I know how to work my people.”

“Can I ask another question?”

“I believe you just did.” She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. His eyebrow arched. “I’d quote his rule six to you, but I’d run the risk of death for speaking about your tongue. What’s your question?”

“Why do they call you God?”

“Ah.” He gave a single nod of understanding, then shrugged. “Because I’m a faceless voice in the cloud. I rule all when it comes to Tribe, my creation. Because, unfortunately, sometimes I decide who lives and who dies.”

She thought about the missing girl.

About Sarah.

About Waters.

About her.

“They’ve never seen you, have they?”

“Only Cherry.”

“And now me.”

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