“Princess, look at me,” I prompt, trying to coax her out of the dark place she’s in.
She breathes out deeply, but instead of meeting my eyes, she closes hers, retreating further into herself.
“Do you want me to make you look at me?” I ask as I tilt her chin up. She finally meets my gaze, and the teary-eyed blue storm in her eyes almost breaks my heart all over again. “You’re absolutely none of the cruel, mean things you tell yourself. I see you, Amelia,” I whisper. “I see all of you. The brilliant, beautiful, strong woman you are.”
She huffs bitterly, the sound filled with disbelief and self-doubt. “He said it’snot me. Isn’t that the universal excuse? The thing you say so you don’t hurt someone’s feelings? But it always means it absolutelyisyou.”
My grip on her chin tightens just a fraction, trying to ground her, to make her hear me. “He said it’s not you because it’s not you. Everyone who spends more than a few minutes in your presence knows that. Misha hurt you because he is a good person, a good friend.”
I see confusion and pain in her eyes, a storm of feelings she’s struggling to keep in. My heart aches for her, for the way she’s hurting, and for the part I play in it. The urge to pull her into my arms, to protect her from everything, including myself, is almost overwhelming. But I hold back.
“I’ve realized over the last few weeks thatIam not a good man, Amelia. Because if you tried to kissme…” I lean in closer, feeling the warmth of her breath against my lips, “… I wouldn’t have the strength to sto?—”
My phone rings, cutting through the tension.
Fuck.
It’s that distinctive, annoying ringtone Misha assigned himself.
He wouldn’t call right now unless it were important.
I search Amelia’s face, and she gives me a slight nod. “Take it.”
Reluctantly, I answer the call, still close to Amelia, my thumb stroking her cheek, my eyes not leaving hers. “Yes?”
“Grey, man, I’m sorry, but you have to get home. Code black.”
What the…
Code black is a major security threat—cyberattacks, unauthorized access, the kind of thing we’ve prepared for but hoped never to face. I lean away from the tree, still holding Amelia’s gaze, unwilling to let her go just yet. “What the fuck do you mean, code black? Who the hell would hack us while we’re not even online?”
“It’s Oliver. I have no idea what he’s doing, but I think he’s freaking out. He’s locked himself in his room with his laptop, and I think he’s trying to delete Jamie. I’m not good enough to stop him. I’m trying to push him out, but he’s faster than I am,” Misha grits out, and I can hear him typing furiously on the other end.
“What do you mean he’s trying to delete him?”
The shock hits me like a punch to the gut.Oliver?
“Grey, get the fuck home…now.I can’t keep him out much longer,” Misha’s voice is laced with desperation, and it’s clear this is spiraling out of control.
Jesus.
I prepared for every threat but not for one from the inside.
I search Amelia’s face again, feeling torn between the urgency of the situation and the need to stay with her. Her eyes meet mine, filled with understanding, and she whispers, “Go.”
“Coming. I just need to bring Peanut?—”
Amelia interrupts, “I can do that.” She sees my hesitation and adds, “It sounds important. I can manage Peanut.”
“On my way.” I hang up on Misha and kiss Amelia on the cheek. “Thank you, Princess.” Handing her the leash, I add, “Be good, both of you.”
With a final glance at Peanut, I turn and sprint toward home, my mind focused on stopping Oliver before it’s too late.
A few minutes later, I burst into the apartment, panting, heart pounding, and find Misha in the office. “Where is he?” I ask, breathless.
“In his room,” Misha replies, frustration evident in his voice.
“Why aren’t you trying to keep him from the keyboard?” I gasp, still catching my breath.
