Page 79 of Hot Zone

Mars:It is.

Me:I’ll let you get back to work. I just wanted to check in with you.

Mars:Okay, I’ll see you at home.

With those things done, I opened up the computer and got to work on year-end evaluations. It wasn’t that my mind was really on what I was doing, but it was better than sitting around worrying.

A few hours later, I was thinking about calling it a day when Fox came in and sat down opposite my desk.

“He’s gone. We have every cop in the city looking for him. But, Samuel, it’s him. He has a shed out behind his house. Everything we need to convict him is there. The materials, plans… he even had blueprints of the Majestic and the fire academy. Everything.”

“So now we just have to find him.”

Mars

I heard the front door as it creaked open, then slammed shut, followed by the distinct sound of shoes hitting the floor. Samuel was finally home. I paused the video on my phone and sat up on the couch, resting my arms over the back as I peeked down the hall.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” I called, grinning at him, but he didn’t even crack a smile.

“Rough day?” I asked. I’d seen him on days when things had gone south, but I’d never seen him look so stressed.

“You could say that,” he muttered, heading straight for the kitchen.

I followed him, padding quietly on socked feet. I leaned against the counter, watching as he poured himself a glass of bourbon. He looked like he needed it.

“You look like someone just told you the world’s out of coffee,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

He snorted softly. “Not far off.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Yeah, but not yet. I want to decompress first.”

“You know what you need?” I wasn’t sure if he would go for it, but I thought it would help.

He eyed me skeptically. “What?”

“You need to meditate.”

He froze mid-sip and looked at me like I’d just suggested he take up competitive knitting. “Meditation? Really, Kitten?”

“Yes, Daddy, really,” I said, stepping closer and plucking the glass out of his hand before he could argue. “It’s good for stress, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. It’s scientifically proven, in fact.”

“I’m not exactly the clear your mind and breathe deeply type,” he said.

I smirked, tugging lightly on the front of his shirt to pull him closer. “Good thing I am. Come on, Samuel. Don’t knock it till you try it.”

He crossed his arms, towering over me, all stoic resistance. “You really think sitting in silence for ten minutes is going to fix everything?”

“No, but it might make you feel a little less like Atlas holding up the world. And bonus, it won’t be silent… you get to listen to my soothing voice.”

That earned me a reluctant chuckle. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re stubborn,” I shot back, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the living room before he could dig in his heels.

I pushed him onto the couch, ignoring his grumbled protests, and plopped down beside him, crossing my legs like a pretzel. “Okay. Close your eyes.”

“Mars—”

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