Page 67 of Shake You

“Okay, and how about the details of how you came about this ‘information’—I’m presuming it was a tip off?”

“Unfortunately. I can’t specify that, either.”

Of course not.

“And may I ask how long this witch hunt…I mean investigation…will last? We have an issue due next week, which we’ve worked hard on. I want to see it published, which obviously can’t happen right now.”

“Again, I can’t give you any further clarity on this issue. The duration of the investigation will depend on what, if anything, is found. However, as you so rightly surmised, there will be no publication until further notice.”

“I realize that this is probably a shot in the dark, also, but I’d like to know if the police are involved in this?”

“I can confirm that, as yet, law enforcement agencies have not been informed, and whether or not they will be will, again, depends on the outcome of the investigation.”

“Okay, so, is there anything else you’re able to tell me that I haven’t asked?”

“Unfortunately, not.”

“Well, thank you. I guess. I suppose I’ll just sit tight and trust that you or the witch-burners will be in touch in due course.”

“That would be prudent.” He could ram prudence so far up his overprivileged ass, it was popping out of his mouth, for all I cared.

“Goodbye, Dean Rogers.”

“Goodbye, Ms. St George.

I hung up the phone and gave in to the tears that been threatening to fall since I’d entered the Herald office.

My life is a fucking mess.

Chapter 38

Bear

“This is starting to feel like Groundhog Day. We used to have like one or two Code Blacks in a year. We’ve had more than that this week alone. What now?” I tried my damnedest not to sound as pissed off and crabby as I felt, but no doubt failed miserably.

I was tired and had had a skinful of the “dance” we’d been doing around Honey. Now, I was essentially caught in the middle of the two parties, with loyalties so divided, the only way I could see to navigate the minefield without being blown to pieces would be for me to clone myself, and have the two Bears live separate and independent lives, never to ever meet.

As it was, there was only one of me, and I was tired of tying myself in knots to play both roles I’d cast myself in. Sooner or later I was going to have to make a choice and state my allegiance, which was unlikely to go well for anybody.

Drew tilted his chin toward the table, and I looked in the direction he’d pointed. Oh shit. Two new identical Polaroids sat next to each other on the distressed wood surface. They were of us filing into the oak-paneled room the night of the dean’s reception. Shit.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I think we’re gonna need the twelve disciples as well as JC to fix this shitstorm.” I was glad that Drew still had a sense of humor. Mine had migrated for the winter, possibly never to return.

“What fresh fucking hell is this? Where did they come from?”

“Delivered to each of us this morning.” Kane motioned between himself and Fox. They were best friends—had known each other since summer camp when they were in grade school, or some shit, and had stayed in contact over the years. Their dynamic was totally different from Drew and Xavier’s, but equally intriguing to me.

They were so close that they roomed next door to each other, and I wasn’t sure if it was by accident or design, but they had one of the few interconnecting suites—totally separate dwellings, but with a door between the two. By all accounts, that door was rarely closed, and they came and went in each other’s spaces as though it was one big apartment. It was a strange time for it to occur to me, but in that moment I suddenly became acutely aware that I was the fifth wheel in the group, sandwiched between two pairs of best friends.

It had never mattered in the past, and maybe it still didn’t, but maybe it would. If the shit hit the fan, I had nobody who’d have my back as a matter of course, and conversely, if there was any major conflict—more major conflict—I’d likely have to test the boundaries of their allegiances if I wanted their support. Fucking dandy. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind in favor of the more pressing issue at hand.

“I know Honey didn’t take those photos.”

“How?” Drew’s eyes narrowed.

“Settle down, brother, before you go thinking or asking if I had anything to do with them, because you know I didn’t, but it just doesn’t feel like Honey’s MO. I mean, whether we like her or—”

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