Chapter 31

Becka

When we pulled back up to our apartment, the crowd of journalists had dwindled down to practically nothing, but there were still a few creeping around. When I saw them, the reality of my situation hit me in the face like a shock of fire. Everything I’d lost: my college, my advisor, my boyfriend, my dissertation, my job, my future…all of my research… I was empty.

I looked at Lisa and I knew she knew exactly what I was thinking. We walked quietly up to the apartment. I went straight to the couch and laid down. The time in Vegas, seeing Marcus… it had been fun, but I wondered if it had led to a larger emotional fall coming home. I felt, truly, like I could die.

“You know,” Lisa said, sitting beside me, her hand on my thigh, “you still haven’t talked to Oliver since the morning he supposedly took your research. Maybe you should call him.”

I looked at her, surprised.

“It’s just that… you’re miserable without him. I can see that. Anyone with eyes can see that. Do you truly believe he’s the monster the media and Ethan are making him out to be?”

“That’s the whole thing,” I said. “I don’t know what to believe.”

“Here’s what I know. You’ve always had amazing intuition when it comes to people. I know that you would never date anyone that you didn’t trust. You would never be around someone you didn’t have a good feeling about long enough to actually date them.

And, you’ve never had a good feeling about Ethan. Sure, you were attracted to him, but not enough to throw Oliver over for him. Oliver is your man. And the only person who has been feeding you negative information about Oliver is his brother.” Lisa shook her head. “I just can’t believe that Oliver is as bad as Ethan said, and you wouldn’t have seen it a mile away.”

I thought about that. I knew, through my depression, that she was right. I looked at my phone. A minute later, I brought up Oliver’s number. Imagined myself dialing. Imagined him answering. Imagined us having a conversation. What would we talk about?

I was nervous… but I dialed the number anyway. When it began to ring, my stomach jerked nervously and my mouth suddenly became as dry as a desert. When I heard his voice on his voicemail, I closed my eyes and hung up.

Lisa stood in the doorway to the kitchen. “Did he answer?”

I shook my head.

“Get your purse,” she said. “I’m driving you over there.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue. Within a few minutes, we were back in the car and Lisa was driving me to Oliver’s mansion. I had no idea what I’d do if he wasn’t there. We were silent as we drove, my nerves working up to full blast.

“Do you want me to go in with you?” she asked. “I will, if you want.”

“No, that’s okay,” I said. We pulled into his circular driveway. There was a car near the front door, but that didn’t mean he was home; he had several cars.

“I can walk to the door with you?” she offered.

“Just wait until you see that he answers. If he’s not home, I don’t want to be stranded here alone.”

“Sure,” she said, and pulled up right behind the other car. “I’ll be right here until I’m sure you’re safe inside. If he answers and you decide you don’t want to stay, just wave at me and I’ll come get you.” She hugged me.

I got out of the car and walked slowly to the door. I knocked, looking back at Lisa. She smiled, encouraging me.

The door opened. Oliver stood before me. He looked at me, his eyes boring into me. I opened my mouth to speak, though I had no idea what I was going to say, and I burst into tears. He put his arms around me and brought me into the house, closing the door behind him.

He kissed me and I melted into him. I felt my anger both rise and fall; I didn’t know where to begin. I was so furious, but the sense of relief I felt at being in his arms battled that sense of fury into submission.

“I’m so pissed at you,” I said. “My research, you don’t know what you’ve done!” My anger made a resurgence and I pushed him away. My shove surprised us both, and he stepped back, nearly losing his balance.

“Honey, I watched the news and, of course, the cops and the media have been crawling around all over Neurotova. None of what they’re saying is true.”

“How can you say that?” I demanded. “You disappear every five minutes, and every time you leave, there’s Ethan right there telling me that you’re doing all of this stuff, that you stole my research, which is pretty believable considering you were at my house and then you were gone and so was my research, and you’re never there to contradict it!”

“It’s pretty convenient that Ethan is always right there to put everything on me,” he said bitterly.

“Well, where are you? Where are you every time I need you?” My tears came back, spilling down my cheeks.

“I’m right here,” he said. He stepped back toward me and put his arms around me. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” I began to object, but he kept talking. “I know, I know, I’ve said that before. But, this is stopping right now. I have a plan.”

“A plan?” I asked.

“Ethan is going down for everything that he’s done. He’s not going to end up the hero in this, no way. I’ve been thinking about all of this, everything that’s happened going all the way back to the beginning, back before you and I met, back before Ethan and I even created Neurotova, before we were partners. I’ve been doing nothing but thinking for days, and I have a plan.

“I promise,” he said, looking into my eyes, “This plan will work. Everything will be okay. We just need to get things in motion. We’ll do that tomorrow. Right now, I want to take you upstairs and make love to you.”

I nodded, wiping my cheeks. “That sounds like the perfect plan,” I said. “Then, I want to know everything.”

He smiled and pulled me to him, lifting me up against him. I wrapped my legs around his hips and he carried me upstairs, kissing me. He set me gently on the bed.

His plan had better be a good one.