Page 96 of Jep

“I don’t need to see anyone. There’s too much to do. I’ve got some stuff I need to look into.”

“What? Jep, come on, you’re injured. What’s more important than looking after yourself?”

“I’ll stop in to see the doctor later.”

“Where are you going?”

“It’s a personal matter.”

“Right now?” It was clear Pearce wasn’t convinced.

“Yeah.”

“If I give you some advice, will you take it?”

“I’ll listen,” Jep said. “That’s all I can offer.”

“Lawson’s going to be livid when he finds out about how this all unfolded. You and I both know you should have run it by him before coming here. If we had brought a team first?—”

“Lawson will live.”

“You’ve made quite a mess with very little to show for it. The best thing you can do right now is to lie low.”

“I’m not planning on making another move today.”

“You should be taking this more seriously. This doesn’t look good.”

“You should know by now I don’t care about looks.”

Pearce shook his head. “Fine. It’s your head.”

“I’ll see you later.”

Em didn’t know if it was the chemical smells that were making her dizzy or fear. When the building had shaken, she’d known it was a bomb. She tried to quiet the shouts in her head, insisting that Jep was dead. But in the dark, all she had for company were her thoughts, unwilling to obey her command. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fend off the pounding in her head. She needed air. But leaving the closet also meant she’d have to face what was out there.

“God, give me the strength.” Her voice sounded hollow in the close space. She shifted on the box, sending a shock of pain down her legs, not from the jump off the fire escape but from the pins and needles that had started twenty minutes before. She couldn’t stay here forever.

Her hand felt down the door in the dark and wrapped around the knob. “You can do this.” She needed light and air or she’d go crazy.

Before she could turn the knob, the door gave way under her hand, and so did the box underneath her. She tumbled sideways, but the figure that met her in the light caught her.

“Whoa. Hey,” Jep said. “Looks like I turned up right on time.”

She hung awkwardly from his arms as he tried to help her stand, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate, and she was so overwhelmed by the sight of him that she dislodged her arms from his grip and wrapped them around his neck, holding tight while she cried into his shoulder.

“You’re not dead,” she said into the warmth of his shirt.

“No. I’m okay. It’s okay.” He ran a hand over her head and rested it on her back. “You’re shaking. Everything’s okay.”

“I thought you were dead. Was there a bomb? I thought I felt a bomb.”

“Yeah, but I’m okay.”

She held on until it edged on too long, then tested her toes on the floor. “I don’t know if I can stand.”

He carried her to the emerald couch and sat her down before bending down to prod her ankles, palpating up her calf. “Where does it hurt? I don’t see any swelling or bruising.” He looked up at her.

“Jep!” It was the first chance she had to get a good look at him. “What happened to you?” His hair was a mess and grayed from what looked like powder. “You’ve got blood on your face.”

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