“It’s not a lie,” Milo says finally. “I know you’ve seen the guys watching the building. They’re not competitors. They’re government—FBI, CIA, something. They’re onto Looking Glass, which is bad for you because now Hart and my mother need that money. Fast. They can’t disappear without it.”
“How do I know this isn’t another one of your games?”
“You were never a game.”
“Don’t.”
Milo’s sigh is harsh, ragged. “Even when I told her about you, it was never a game. It was survival. It’s what I did to keep going. You get that. I know you do.”
I do.
“Where would I go?” I ask, sounding light, amused. It is amusing. “They’ll hunt me. You’ve given them what they need to hunt me. My cover’s blown. I can’t go home. I can’t even access what I need to escape.”
“Bren knows something’s wrong.”
My head snakes toward him. “What do you know about that? Did they do something to her?”
“No. They’ll stall her for as long as they can, but considering you spoke with Lily and now Bren’s asking to see you . . . they know they don’t have much time.” Milo pauses, but we both know what’s coming next: “That’s going to make things difficult for them and they’ll make it difficult on you.”
“I know.”
“You don’t. Otherwise, you wouldn’t sound so confident. They will kill you, Wick. Trust me. Everyone here is expendable—that’s why they knew it would work. No family. No histories. No one to come looking if the hackers disappear. It’s one of the reasons Looking Glass works so well.”
“And the other reasons?”
“My mother sourced the talent and Bay found the clients. It was great. They were racking up millions, then Michael raided the account.” Milo waits until I look at him. “You didn’t kill an innocent man, Wick. What you did . . . you had no way of knowing.”
“Is that supposed to help me sleep at night?”
Now it’s his turn to look away. Milo studies everything—anything—that isn’t me. “Hart and my mother know what Alex is doing.”
My heart jams into my throat. “Why haven’t they done something then?”
He lifts one shoulder. “Not the right time? She has something else in mind? No idea, but you might want to pass that along.”
“How? On my way out the door? There’s no escape from Looking Glass.”
Milo’s laugh is soft this time. “I didn’t think you were capable of playing stupid.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Except I do. Of course I do. He’s talking about the security system. I know how to scam the cameras—they’re fixed, they’re vulnerable—and he knows I know it. They’re Looking Glass’s sole weakness and he didn’t tell them.
Which means he’s on my side.
Or that he was always leaving himself an escape hatch.
Or that this was planned all along and they’ll be waiting for me.
Milo leans forward, presses something small and hard into my hands. His cell phone. I shove to my feet and thump into the corner of my desk. “What are you doing?” I manage.
“A good builder always leaves a back door into his system, right? That’s my back door and your way out.”
I force myself to move. “Why are you telling me everything now?”
No answer. I didn’t figure there would be. Somehow, I’ve blundered all the way to the door without realizing it and Milo hasn’t followed me. It’s a relief.
So why am I lingering?
My hand fists around the door handle and Milo’s voice snakes from the dark.
“When you run, promise you’ll be fast, Wick. Disappear. Use every trick you have. Because when they come for you, it will be with everything they have. There will be no mercy, no pity. You’ll only have one chance.”
26
I slide my card through the elevator’s reader with shaky, sausage fingers. Everything’s gone numb. Clumsy. I lean one hip against the polished metal wall and focus on my feet.
On my anger.
Like an idiot, I believed in Milo. I wanted this fairy tale to work. I ignored my gut. Oh my God, I’ve been so stupid.
Kind of amazing how the realization makes everything go hard inside me. My legs straighten. My brain starts to click past the panic and into my next move. First I’ll need to override the camera feeds. Then I’ll need to override the elevator. Would it be better to go out the front? Or through the parking deck?
My instinct says parking deck because there will be fewer witnesses, but there’s a gate at the exit and I’m not sure if I could climb it. The elevator doors open and I turn for my room. I don’t look at the security cameras I pass, but I feel them. Everything that keeps us safe also keeps us in place.
I swipe my key card and push through the bedroom door. Alex is still at her desk. Her fingers pause over the laptop keys. She doesn’t say a word though. She’s still mad at me and I should let it go, but Norcut knows about Alex.
Alex, who just wants to be safe for a little while.
Alex, who had to pick between the monsters out there and the monsters in here.
We are so alike. Can I live with myself if I leave her?
God, no.