Page 32 of Prodigal Son

Cavendish braced his hands on the table and leaned back in his chair, swapping a look between them. “Is he…is he serious?” he asked Eden. And to Fox: “Whoareyou? Eden, if you’ve gotten mixed up with thatLean Doglot, you have worse problems than I thought.”

“Yeah. Okay. Fuck this guy.” Fox made to move his chair back.

Eden slapped out a hand and closed it around his wrist. He could have shaken her off; could have flipped her over his back, could have broken her arm in three places, could have simply twisted away. But he didn’t. And she was, despite knowing he could get away, stronger than he remembered. Or maybe just more determined.

“Fox,” she said, and her voice sounded carefully composed. “Let’s give him a chance to be helpful. Okay?”

Fox made a show of thumping back down in his chair and scooting it close to the table again, legs screeching over the floor. And suddenly, he knew a sensation he’d thought lost between them. A low, euphoric fizzing in the pit of his stomach like when he got to bounce off someone like Mercy or Candy on an especially tricky, bloody job. The joy of locking together like devious puzzle pieces and pulling off something truly, epically slick. Things had been like that with Eden once, briefly, and he hadn’t thought to feel that particular joy with her again. But here it was, ephemeral as smoke, dangerous as mercury.

It was better than sex, to be honest.

He shifted his wrist, just a tiny fraction, so that it moved toward her. She squeezed once and let go.

“Fine,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. He folded his arms and sulked back in his chair. “Alright, Boarding School Boy, prove you’re not on the villains’ take.”

“Beg pardon?” If this was a show on Cavendish’s part, it was a good one. “Eden.” He started to sound frustrated; a muscle jumped in his lean jaw. “What in the bloodyhellis going on?”

~*~

It surprised her how difficult it was not to shoot Fox a conspiratorial grin. This was goingwell. And after the morning they’d had, that was unexpected.

This morning…

Ugh. Being back around this man, and his crazy family, was pushing all sorts of buttons. She didn’t lose control. Full stop. And she’d taken a swing at Devin Green this morning. Christ.

No, she told herself firmly. One thing at a time.

“Alright, Simon,” she said, fanning her hands out across the table. “Let’s be straightforward with one another.”

He snorted, and she recognized his look of offense. “You mean unlike you have been so far? I feel like I’ve been attacked and dragged into some sort of made-for-the-movies drama. What’s going on, Eden? And no accusations this time,” he added, wagging a finger at Fox.

To his credit, Fox just turned his head away, disinterested. Eden knew there was a good chance Simon would go on to regret that little move; he’d probably end up with a broken finger, at the very least.

“You’ve been given the case,” she said. “At this point you know what I know: that a man was caught on camera at Pseudonym’s headquarters, that he stole some files, and that Pseudonym wants the files recovered at all costs, and the perpetrator apprehended by authorities.”

“Yes?” he said, impatient.

This was the part that left her insides shivering with dread.Trust me, Phillip had said, when he attached the wire to the strap of her tank top, now safely hidden beneath her jacket. And, camped out in his clubhouse, at his mercy for help and resources, what choice did she have? She said, “Well, I found him. The perp. But I told Pseudonym that I hadn’t. And when I went to his home to question him, someone shot through the window at us.”

Simon’s face went impressively blank. “You – now hold on a moment.What?”

“The second Pseudonym realized that I had been in contact with the target, they decided to kill me.”

“Try to,” Fox said beside her.

Simon opened and closed his mouth a few times. The momentary resemblance to a sea creature wasn’t flattering. Finally, he swallowed audibly and tried to smooth his expression. Attempted a sideways smile. “That’sinsane.” He said it hard, fast, like he was trying to convince himself. “They wouldn’t – listen to what you’re saying. Pseudonym is a massive company,” he said, lowering his voice to a hiss. “They’re in five countries, they are massive shareholders in dozens of international businesses, and they aren’t some…some” – he cut a glance toward Fox – “someoutlawswho can do whatever they bloody please. Do you honestly believe a client like that would hire you on record, and then try to kill you? Whatever this man stole, trade secrets, whatever, it isn’t worth the kind of scandal and jail time your death would bring down on their heads. I’m offended you’ve even suggested such a thing. It’s ludicrous!”

Fox eased back in his chair with a sigh, a seemingly casual sprawl. “Right. Because no one powerful ever took out a hit on someone they thought had crossed them. Giant corporationsneverdo anything out of line, huh?”

“I…” Sweat glistened at Simon’s temples.

Eden took pity on him. “I’m sure they’ve covered their tracks. In fact, I’d be willing to bet there’s a paper trail somewhere ready to hit the Internet that makes it look like the target is the one who killed me. Whatever he knows” – she suppressed a shudder as she thought of Project Emerald, the names and dates and experiments listed in Devin’s folder – “it’s something so damning they can’t risk it being made public.”

“That’s generally how this kind of shit works,” Fox added helpfully.

Simon looked between them, and then finally looked away, gaze going to the window. He swallowed a few times in rapid succession, throat jumping. Fear didn’t look good on him – he wore it too openly. He’d always been the sort of straight-laced, do-the-right-thing man who worked harder than he needed to. The one who’d studied while his school friends went drinking and carousing. He came from a respectable family, he comported himself with grace and aplomb; well-dressed, handsome in a refined sort of way, meticulous…he’d earned his station, and he didn’t have much of which to be afraid.

Sitting here now, in his impeccable suit, hair shiny and styled, sunlight catching his Cartier watch…he was terrified. It tugged at something inside her. Something like pity tinged with fondness.

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