Page 87 of Savage Beauty

“What’re you doing?” Instinctively, my hand falls into my messenger bag and the inside pocket. I blink rapidly, clearing the welling tears.

“I can’t let you leave.”

She pulls a phone out of her lab coat and taps on it.

“What do you mean?”

She presses her back to the door as if she’s blocking me from leaving.

“I need to keep you here for your safety.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You’re delusional. You haven’t been taking your medication regularly. We knew there were issues before you resigned with no notice, but we’ve had time to review your work, and it’s clear you were suffering from psychotic episodes.”

“No.” I shake my head and step to the side. She’s lying. But why? “Max was right, wasn’t he?” My eyes burn at the mention of his name, but my adrenaline pumps hard through my veins and my eyes dry. “You are behind everything. But why?”

“Dammit.” She checks her phone. Her lips press into a firm line, creating wrinkles all up and down. That’s her angry expression. “I am not supposed to be the one who has to do this.”

She charges past me to her desk, opens a drawer, and lifts a small pistol. Time slows.

My fingers wrap around the smooth edge of metal.

She points the pistol at me, and I take a step back. The end of the pistol wavers.

I take another step back.

“Stop. I can’t let you leave. I need for you to stay here.”

“Why?” Sam once told me that keeping someone talking is important. He also told me that distance is important. Not everyone who owns a gun has good aim. Most don’t. That’s what he said. I take another step back.

She locked the door, but it’s not like I can’t flip the lock.

She widens her stance and holds the gun with two hands. Someone taught her how to hold a gun and take aim.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not the one calling the shots. You can’t leave.”

“Why did Anton Solonov tell everyone I couldn’t be hurt?” If I’m going to keep her talking, I’m going to ask my questions.

“I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t he just kill me?”

“That was apparently the plan, but someone interfered.”

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not behind this.” She clucks her tongue. It’s a sound I’ve never heard her make. “I don’t agree with this. I wish I’d never discovered what is going on.”

“What is going on?”

She points the gun straight at my chest. That’s not an answer.

“You don’t need to kill me.” I inch back.

“If you don’t stop where you are, I will have to pull this trigger whether I want to or not. Can you just stand there and wait?”

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