“Ree, I need to see you. It’s really important. No one can know we’re talking and you shouldn’t contact me on my tab—I think it’s bugged.”
I turn up the volume on the screen; his voice is but a jittery, paranoid whisper. I can’t help it, but my childhood instincts rear up and my heart begins to ache for him a little bit.
“Meet me in Elusion. I promise, it’s safe—this Escape is under construction and not open to the public. Tonight at nine. Special invite code twenty-three hundred and one. You have to come—”
He’s about to say something else, but the message is paused when a security alert flashes on the screen in bold red letters—Visitor Request: Heywood, Josh. I click on the View Camera One prompt and instantly I have a clear picture of the front of our house. Josh is standing on the porch wearing a black jacket and holding his motorcycle helmet. His back is to the camera, which makes it easier for me to consider clicking on Deny Access—I still haven’t made up my mind about him. But then he turns to face the camera, and even with his O2 shield on I notice the tightness in his cheeks, and how the corners of his mouth are sinking. No matter how hard I try to steel myself, my anger begins to unravel and I just can’t put him off anymore.
So I select the Allow Access option, and the words “Entry Granted” appear on the screen. I keep Patrick’s message paused and reduce the video window so Josh won’t see it when he comes through the door. I twist my hair into a low ponytail and smooth back any errant wisps with my fingers. Then I tuck my T-shirt into my capri sweatpants and turn around to greet him, my hands twitching so badly I have to shove them into my pockets.
When Josh walks in the room, he looks worse than he did a few seconds ago on-screen. The veins in his neck seem to be pressing hard against his skin, and his clothes look worn and wrinkled, like he slept in them. I’m so startled by his appearance I forget that we’re on the outs, and I walk over to him, reaching for his hand. His palm is damp and clammy, but then he traces his thumb over my wrist, and given my hazy, post-sedative state, that’s all it takes for me to come undone.
I can’t let that show, though. Not just yet.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Not really, but I feel a little better now that you let me in,” Josh says with a tired smile.
“You look like hell. No offense,” I joke, smiling back.
“Actually, this is what two days of no sleep and twenty cups of pod coffee looks like.”
“I know what you mean.”
Josh nods at the couch. “Mind if we sit and clear the air?”
“Sure.” I let my hand slip out of his, just a fraction of an inch, but he catches it, squeezing a little so I won’t let go.
Once we’re comfortable on the sofa, positioned opposite each other but close enough that our knees are almost touching, he launches into a speech that sounds like he spent hours preparing. Even so, he’s rubbing his hands nervously the entire time.
“Regan, I know you think what I did with the QuTap was pretty shady. And you’re right, giving it to Avery without checking with you first wasn’t cool,” he says, pausing to take a deep breath. “I should have been honest with you from the start.”
“Well, you can start now instead,” I say.
“I was going to use one of my Ashville contacts to get the QuTap. But when I remembered Avery’s father worked for Tech Protect, I knew she could scrounge one up without much trouble.”
“But how did you know that? Avery may talk about everyone else’s business on her vlog, but she never reveals anything personal.”
Josh glances away from me, like he’s concerned how I might react to his response.
“I knew because Avery and I . . . are friends,” he murmurs.
“You’re friends with Avery?” I say, stunned. “The Avery who hates my guts Avery?”
He shrugs, embarrassed. “I met her through my sister. She and Nora are pretty close. Have been for a couple years.”
I cover my face with my hands for a moment as this admission sinks in. “So I’ve been ragging on her all week, and you didn’t think to tell me this sooner?”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve. I made a mistake.”
“Was it a mistake?” I challenge him. “Or did you know that I wouldn’t go to Orexis and steal that information off Patrick’s computer if I knew Avery was somehow involved?”
Josh’s eyes flick back to me. “Maybe.”
I open my mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. I suppose I didn’t expect him to own up to that.
“Going to Avery wasn’t preplanned or anything. But she wants Nora back just as much as I do. That’s why she’s been so aggressive about the safety of Elusion since the beginning,” he continues. “Her heart is in the right place; she just goes about things the wrong way.”
“I want to believe that, Josh. I do. But honestly, Avery can’t stand me because she loathes Patrick. How can you trust that she won’t keep certain information to herself just to shut me out? Or that she’ll leak what we’ve done to the public or the police? I’ve come too far for her to ruin everything.”
“She promised that when she had a breakthrough with the QuTap, she’d set up a time to meet. She won’t screw us over,” he says. “Anyway, whatever crimes we’ve committed, she’s an accessory now. Her ass is on the line too.”
I hesitate. I think he believes what he’s saying—I’m just not sure I can.
“I’m going to earn your trust back, I swear. Just let me show you.” A faint sparkle returns to his gorgeous golden-brown eyes when he lowers his hand and gently grazes my arm. “So are we good?”
“I think so,” I say, hoping that I’m not making a huge mistake by listening to my heart. “As long as you assure me that you two aren’t hatching some kind of diabolical plan together.”
“To do what, exactly?”
I contemplate telling Josh about what Cathryn said in her car last night—about setups and corporate spies—but it all seems so ridiculous now, especially since there’s another piece of evidence that connects Nora and my father’s lives. In fact, I’m kind of wondering if Cathryn maybe wasn’t trying to throw me off Patrick’s scent . . .
God, if we don’t make more headway soon, how many more people am I going to add to this list of possible conspirators?
“Nothing, just forget it.”
There’s a brief moment where it seems like he’s going to lean in and kiss me, but he reclines instead, slouching down so he can rest his head on the back of the sofa. I’m disappointed, but I can’t really blame him for missing his cue. He’s hanging on by a thread.
“So did you get anywhere with Patrick?”
“Sort of,” I say.
Then I replay the whole gruesome scene at Erebus Tower, giving Josh all the details of my showdown with Patrick—what he admitted to, what I accused him of, the ultimatum I gave him, and my shocking confession about the QuTap. When I’m done giving the blow-by-blow, Josh sits there, completely dumbfounded. Actually, after listening to myself tell the story, I’m dumbfounded too.