Page 47
With deliberate movements, Nate lifts the carrier from my white-knuckled grip and sets it on his desk, his gaze never leaving mine.
“What did you do Friday night, Sola?”
The nickname barely registers before panic starts crawling up my throat.
“Friday?” My voice pitches higher, because apparently I let one of your prototypes edge me into another dimension isn’t an answer I’m prepared to give my bosses. “I worked late, went home, got takeout curry. Watched a little Love Island marathon. Nothing exciting.”
Jace's mouth twitches. He knows I'm lying and intends to enjoy watching me dig the hole deeper.
Nate steps toward me, and I back away without thinking. He advances again, keeping my attention on him until my shoulder brushes something solid.
Elias.
He must have left his chair while Nate was distracting me, because he's standing directly behind me now, close enough that I can feel his presence before I even turn.
I glance toward Jace. He's moved too, positioning himself a few feet to my left, between me and the door.
Nate in front. Elias behind me. Jace guarding the easiest way out.
They've surrounded me.
“What the hell is this?”
“Truth time, Little Doe.” Elias’s voice drops beside my ear as his hands settle at my hips. Not restraining, just deliberate enough that every nerve in my body lights up.
“I told you,” I say, forcing the words past a suddenly dry throat. “I went home.”
“Strike two,” Nate says.
I glare at him. “What is wrong with the three of you?”
Jace steps closer, but stops before touching me. “It’s simple, Sugar.” His voice has lost its usual teasing edge. “We heard you.”
My lungs seem to forget their purpose as the three of them wait for an answer I'm terrified to give.
“Friday night,” Elias says quietly. “Tell us what you did.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
Jace’s head tips slightly. “You really want to keep doing this, Sugar?”
“Is this some kind of corporate ambush?” I try to pull away, but Elias catches my jaw before I can get far, gently turning my face toward his over my shoulder.
“Breathe, Little Doe.” His thumb brushes along my cheek. “No one is going to hurt you.”
That should help…
It doesn’t.
“I didn’t—”
“Sloane.” Nate’s voice cuts through the room. “You should know better than anyone by now.”
I turn my face away from Elias to look at Nate, but Elias’s hand remains at my jaw.
“You can’t hide from us.”
Nate retrieves his phone, taps the screen, and my voice spills into the room.
