Page 113 of Midnight Enemy

“Orson…” Kingi also stands. “Don’t.”

The two of them stare at each other. Orson’s chest heaves, but he doesn’t say anything.

George lowers his hands and looks at them. “You should leave,” he says to Orson.

Orson just shakes his head.

“Go,” Kingi says. “I’ll deal with it.”

“Nope,” Orson says a third time. He doesn’t look at me, but he squares his shoulders as if bracing himself for a fight.

I get slowly to my feet. “What is it?”

Finally, he looks at me. He thinks for a moment, his blue eyes blazing. Then he says, “Blue pill or red pill?”

Oh shit. He’s asking whether I want to stay ignorant, or whether I want to know the truth. He’s leaving the decision up to me.

I tremble. Do I want to know? I love my life. I’m happy living in my own small world. Being naive and innocent.

But that’s the very definition of cowardly, surely? To refuse to listen to the truth, and wanting to stay oblivious? I’m a better person than that, surely? Orson, like Neo in the Matrix, chose to embrace reality, and I have to do the same.

Besides, how bad can it be?

I swallow hard. “I want to know.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” I’m shaking now.

He looks at George. “Tell her.”

George gets up. We’re all standing now. George’s expression slowly morphs into pure fury. “Get out,” he says to Orson. “This is none of your business.”

Kingi walks around the table. “He’s right. You need to go.”

“I’m not going,” Orson states. “She’s an adult, and she needs to know. Tell her.”

“Tell me what?” I stamp my foot like a toddler. “If one of you doesn’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to scream, I swear!”

They ignore me, though. George and Orson continue to glare at each other, while Kingi hovers, clearly unsure what to do.

“Tell her,” Orson says again.

“This is none of your business,” George snaps.

“Tell her!” Orson yells.

“I don’t want this,” George replies, his voice also rising. “This is my choice.”

“If you don’t fucking tell her, I will!”

Without warning, George swings at him. Orson—twenty-five years younger and forty pounds lighter—steps back, and George’s fist misses his chin by half an inch. George yells and lunges at him, Orson crashes into the desk, sending papers flying, and the two men grapple at one another.

I burst into tears.

“For fuck’s sake.” Kingi lifts George off Orson as if he’s a rag doll and sets him aside. Orson springs to his feet and moves forward, but Kingi positions himself between them and says, “Stop it! You’ve made Scarlett cry.”

Immediately, both men look at me, and I press a hand over my mouth, trying unsuccessfully to stop sobbing.

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