Page 69 of Lifeline

I blinked rapidly, trying to get through without losing my shit. “I knew I couldn’t do it without telling the truth, but the truth wasn’t going to free me or make it better. It just meant losing my job or an incredibly high chance of it. I didn’t know what to do, so I did…nothing.” I bowed my head and shook it. “I guess it’s like you said, we keep finding ways to go back to our old selves even when we try to leave them behind. Because I…apparently learned nothing. All that change, all that effort, all that attempt to grow, and I…didn’t. I trapped myself, and I should have done the right thing a long time ago, but I guess…I just wanted to be happy for a little longer.”

There was silence, at least between the two of us; the storm continued to rage outside, and Cait’s voice kept on as she mentioned Reno’s name and then mentioned something else I didn’t catch. Mika’s voice when he spoke was calmer, but there was no mistaking the anger. “I want to believe you, and I-I want to forgive you, but I…don’t know how to trust you right now.”

I nodded, understanding. “I get it.”

“Do you?” he asked, angry and genuinely curious. “Because I know what I saw, what I’ve seen, what I’ve heard, and I…want to, I really do. But how do I move past the fact that you’ve been sending reports about everything we’ve been doing since you’ve been here? How do I move past that breach of trust?”

I opened my mouth to ask him if he was even willing to try before we tried to figure out the how, but was cut off by a low, dangerous growl. “You what?”

I whirled around to face Xander standing in the doorway, eyes blazing. “Oh, shit.”

“Oh, shit is right,” he snapped loudly. “You’ve been reporting on us this whole fucking time, you little sneak? What the fuck have you been sending and who the fuck to?”

“Xander,” Cait snapped from her office. “Lower your voice, I⁠—”

“Cait, I just heard⁠—”

“I don’t give a fuck if he’s been sending international secrets to the Russians, Chinese, and Nicaragua; lower your goddamn voice while I do my job!”

Xander gritted his teeth, but Mika was on his feet. “Xander, look, it’s not⁠—”

“Do not defend your boyfriend right now,” Xander snapped, finally answering whether or not he knew about us. “It’s not a good look for you, Mika.”

“I don’t give a fuck about a good look right now,” Mika said calmly. “But flying off the handle isn’t a good idea.”

“Don’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t do when I found out Harriet over there has been playing Benedict Arnold,” Xander snapped. “Who the fuck have you been talking to? Tell me now and I might consider not beating your ass.”

I was taken off guard by the pop culture and historical references, and almost tricked into laughing at the absurdity while knowing that was a death sentence. “His name was Bryce⁠—”

Mika seized up. “Aidan!”

I jerked, catching sight of a dark shadow getting too large too quickly, and all sense disappeared. I flung myself forward as a huge branch came crashing through the window. My stomach slammed into the kitchen counter, knocking the wind from me in a pathetic wheeze of desperation. A ball of pain formed in my ribs, and I clawed at the counter to pull away as icy rain pounded in through the broken window, soaking me.

Strong hands caught me under my arms and helped drag me over the counter to deposit me roughly on the safe side. Xander stepped back, his scowl heavy as Mika rushed forward to check me out.

“I’m okay,” I wheezed. “I’m going to feel that in the morning, but I’m fine.”

“Shut up,” he ground out as he yanked up my shirt and glanced at Xander. “Just a bruise. Hold still while I check you for glass.”

I did, and I looked at Xander. “Thank you.”

“Fuck off,” he growled.

“I know,” I said. “But thank you anyway.”

“The name.”

“Bryce Anderson.”

“Ah, hell,” Mika muttered, and I didn’t think it had to do with the piece of glass he found tangled in the cuff of my jeans.

Xander’s eyes widened. “That pompous, interfering, measly, useless, pasty-faced, mealy-mouthed son of a crack whore?”

In high school, I had gone through a phase of trying to string together the most coherent and deeply biting insults I could come up with without being personal. The point was to be outlandish and insulting in a way that was impressive and made people laugh. Teenage me would have been impressed by the string of insults Xander strung together, but… it wasn’t the time to reminisce.

“I take it you’re familiar,” I said with a wince.

Xander’s furious animal noise was all the answer I needed, and when he turned to me, I braced. Except that was the moment our walkies sprung to life. “Xander!”