I hunched my shoulders as far as they’d go, but it didn’t have any effect on his hold over my body though. He let go after I licked at his soapy hands. “Ew. What is that?”
We wrestled, biting and licking each other, distracted from the questions at hand—or so I thought.I was pinned under Jacques as he asked me one more question. “Did you meet Jacques Harlan before or after you discovered alleged material compromising the Nexovex product, Nexzen?”
“It doesn’t say that, does it?”
He glanced at the sheet again and nodded.
I really couldn’t recall. It had to have been before I met him. Ithadto be.
A knock came at the door, three loud clangs.
We looked at each other, then to the door. If they opened it—whoever it was outside—they’d see the two of us clinging to each other right in front of them. Jacques placed a finger to his lips, but it wasn’t like I was going to make a sound. All that ran through my mind was how they wanted to kill me. Whoever it was behind those doors, they wanted me dead.
A moment passed as we moved slowly, quietly. The bangs came again, and this time they were followed up by a rough voice. “I know you’re in there.”
Jacques immediately stood with a smirk. “Relax.”
Except my nervous system wasn’t as well trained as his, to obey being instructed torelax. I stayed still, upright now on the sofa as Jacques opened the door. Two men stood there in thick winter coats with fur-lined hoods obscuring their faces. They didn’t have guns out, which was a start. Even with Jacques as my protective bodyguard, I didn’t feel safe right now.
“Donovan,” he said. “Artemis. Nice to see you’re both alive. And—”
“What the fuck are you doing?” the rougher looking man asked, as he stepped forward inside the—whatever thiswas. “We’re supposed to be inretirementfor another couple of months, and you’ve had Mercy at our door telling us we’re needed to come find you.”
I sat completely still. The twitching ache in my limbs had me unsure whether this was a fight or flight situation. My stomach muscles tightened too, like it was ready to have me empty the contents.
“Mercy,” Jacques spat and I jolted with a shudder.
“What happened?” the other asked.
“Listen, Mercy was selling Sanctum to the highest bidder, and that highest bidder wanted my—” He turned to me, all focus as my cheeks flushed red. “My boyfriend. They’re trying to kill him. He’s—”
“I know,” the smaller one said, walking towards me. I couldn’t place either of their names. “I read all about it. Mercy gave us a file. I think she’s trying to reach out to you.”
“How did the two of you find us?” Jacques asked.
“We’ve helped the brothers before,” the rougher one said. “They gave us your address. Don’t worry. We’re not here to strongarm you into—giving up your boy there. We’re here to help.”
“I’m Artemis,” he said, sitting beside me. “It’s been a bit of journey getting here.”
“There’s no room at the inn,” Jacques said. “And you couldn’t have timed it any worse. I’m not trying to be rude, but we’re so close to having this thing over.”
The other one—Donovan—laughed, patting Jacques’s shoulder. “He’s got you all soft, Reaper.”
My stomach jumped around at the sound of hisothername. “If they can help us stay alive, I think it’s fine,” I said, my small voice louder in their silence.
“He wants us here,” Donovan said. “Which is good, because we have information.”
Artemis nodded. “Mercy left the pharma company. She got hold of the files and since she always has these clauses in everything she does,” he sighed and rolled his eyes. “She managed to wiggle out of whatever contract she had with them under a morality clause.”
I looked around, trying to make any sense of what he was saying. “So, they’re not trying to kill us anymore?”
Donovan’s loud voice boomed with laughter. Jacques sank a punch into his chest, quickly shutting him up. He closed the door behind them. We’d been here for a while, and we’d been under the practice that we were always quiet whenever the door to the outside was open.
“So,” Jacques said, massaging his fist. Donovan didn’t seem too fazed by the whole thing. “I’m not going to ask again. You found us, and we’re in need of information, so are you going to give us the information we need, or are you going to just stand there—sit, whatever—and have us guess whether or not you’re a threat?” I could feel the stress emanate from Jacques’s body, and I didn’t like it.
Donovan patted him on the shoulder, pulling him into a brotherly hug—it seemed. “We’ve come to help,” he said. “So, the kid’s some sort of whistleblower?”
“Yes,” I let out.
