My heart skips several beats. Then it gallops, twenty times faster. “It doesn’t matter.” I need my stupid voice to shake less. “I gotta go. It’s late, and I’m technically off BLINK. I shouldn’t even be here—Boris will have me arrested.” I lean back. Turn off my computer, keeping my eyes on Guy the entire time. Then I make my way to the door. “Well, have a good night. Could you let me through? I can’t quite—”
“Bee.” He doesn’t move. His tone is slightly reproachful.
“You’re making things complicated for me.”
I swallow. Audibly. “Why?”
“Because.”
“Because . . . what? Is it the seizure? I really didn’t mean to—”
“I think it would be hypocritical of me to get testy about that.” He sighs, and I’m instantly aware of how much larger than me he is. He’s nothing like Levi, but I’m as big as five bananas in a trench coat, which might be a . . . a problem?
“What’s going on?” I whisper. “Guy?”
“What have you told Levi?” he asks, his expression a mix of calm and irritation. A parent cleaning up after a child spilled a glass of milk.
“. . . Told Levi?”
“About the security footage. Did you talk to him on the phone after you emailed him?”
I freeze. “How do you know I emailed him?”
“Answer me, please.”
“H-how do you know? About my email?” I retreat until the backs of my legs hit my desk.
“Bee.” He rolls his eyes. “I’ve been in and out of your email for a long time. Making sure Levi’s messages couldn’t reach you. Creating some . . .
miscommunications. You know, there’s a reason websites tell you to use difficult
passwords, MarieMonAmour123.”
“It was you.” I gasp, trying to step even farther away. There’s nowhere to go. “How did you get into my computer?”
“I set it up.” He gives me an incredulous look. “You’re not very good at technology, are you?”
I frown, pulled right out of shock and into furious outrage. “Hey! I can code in three programming languages!”
“Is one of them HTML?”
I flush. “HTML is valid, you stemlord. And I minored in computer science.
And why the hell were you in my damn
email?!”
“Because, Bee, you wouldn’t just mind your damn business.” He takes a step toward me, nostrils flaring. “Did you know that the Sullivan prototype
should have been called Kowalsky-Sullivan? Of course, Peter had to get his head smashed—” He stops, pausing for a moment. “Okay, this came out wrong. I was sorry when it happened. But my work on BLINK was erased. By virtue of dying, Peter got all the credit, and—it would have been fine. But then Levi offered to lead BLINK out of some misplaced guilt, and they chose him over me. I had no control over something I spent years working on.” His voice rises. He comes closer and I flatten against the desk. “And for so long I was sure BLINK wouldn’t get done, that it’d be delayed, that Levi would move on to other things—he wasn’t even doing neuroimaging anymore, did you know that? If it hadn’t been for Peter, he’d still be at the Jet Propulsion Lab. But no. He had to poach my project.” “What did you do?” I murmur.
“I did what I had to. This morning I took a few caffeine pills, just to be, you know . . . excitable. And I fudged the protocols. But you put me in this situation. You and Levi. Because, Bee—oh, Bee, he was obsessed with you.
The second NIH nominated you, he had to make BLINK happen. And I tried to do what I could—make you guys fight a little. Little delays. Missing files.
For a while you seemed stuck, and I hoped time would run out and you’d go back to NIH.” His eyes are a little crazed. “But you cracked it. And . . . I had to do it. Today had to happen. They won’t let Levi stay on the project.”
“On Twitter. What did you do on Twitter?”
He runs a hand down his face. “That was— I wasn’t going to involve you, believe it or not. But when I found out that you weren’t really married, that Levi lied to me, I was very upset. It didn’t take long to realize that . . . I cannot believe you’re fucking him, Bee. Your Twitter was on your computer, and I’d been following your online identity, so . . .
I knew what to do.”
“Oh my God.”
“You were supposed to hate him! When NIH selected you, Levi told me you had issues in the past. And I thought —perfect!” He sighs like he’s deeply tired. “And then you fell in love. Who does that?”
“Are you crazy?”
“I’m angry. Because it would have worked out great if you hadn’t noticed the security footage. I guess I got a bit sloppy at editing myself out? Why were you looking at it, anyway?”
I shake my head. I’m not explaining Félicette to this asshole. “You are crazy.”
“Yeah.” He closes his eyes. “Maybe.”
I look around for— I’m not sure what. A siren? A baseball bat? One of those portable transporters from Star Trek? “Let me go,” I say.
“Bee.” He opens his eyes. “You don’t need to be an evil mastermind to acknowledge that I cannot let you go.”
