I ’m covered in a cold sweat. My skin is cloying against my clothes, a river of perspiration running down between my shoulder blades. My heart is slamming in my chest. I feel like my lungs are filling up with liquid and I’m drowning in the bone-dry anteroom outside the door to the penthouse. Over head, the glowing yellow light above the elevator doors is shifting through numbers, rising up to meet me one floor at a time. I feel like I’m about to pass out by the time the light hits the floors around the fifties.

Fifty-seven

Fifty-eight

Fifty-nine

Sixty…

I need to go back. I need to get back inside. I need to be on the other side of that motherfucking glass door. I’m going to have a heart attack. I’m going to drop down fucking dead and no one will find my body for days. My vision is blurry as fuck as I bounce on the balls of my feet, waiting for the elevator doors to roll back. I don’t think I can do this. I don’t think I can do this. I don’t think I can do this.

I’m gonna throw up. I’m legitimately going to throw up in my own damn elevator. I was so shitty to her. God, I was so fucking shitty to her. I should never have allowed her to leave. I should have grabbed a hold of her. I should have crushed her to my chest. I should have kissed her, and stroked her hair, and told her everything was going to be okay. I should have told her I don’t love Chloe anymore, that none of this is as simple as it seems, but…I’m a shit. I’m so used to shutting down in difficult situations. It’s so easy for me to end a conversation if it’s not to my liking. For the last five years, the only people with access to me have been North Industries yes-men and representatives from other companies, wanting to win contracts. No one’s told me the truth in years. No one’s asked me to be real with them. Beth asked that of me, and I didn’t know how to give her what she wanted. I watched her crying in the elevator after she left, and all I wanted to do was call her back. To sit her down and go through the entire accident with a fine tooth comb, but my pride wouldn’t let me.

“Raph. Raph! Hold the fucking phone to your ear, asshole!”

I barely hear the tinny voice coming from my cell phone speakers over the loud thrumming of my own heart. I hold the device up to my ear, trying to calm my breathing. “Why the hell were you arrested again?” I ask.

Nate’s reply is laced with worry. “Ask your friend, Paxton Ross. That piece of shit called the cops on me. Totally overreacted.”

“Because you stole something from him. And now you think Beth is somehow in danger?”

“She went to meet with him on her own. I warned her not to, but you can bet your ass she did. I’m telling you, you need to find her. And quickly, man. I mean it.”

“I don’t understand how this even fucking happened,” I growl. “I warned Paxton not to talk to her again after he tried to pay her off. He swore he’d leave her alone.” I can’t help the small flash of anger that hits me. It was wrong of me, but I did tell Beth to leave this well alone, too. It looks like the very first thing she did was discard my command and start digging. A part of me dislikes that intensely, but then again it’s also very refreshing.

“Well…” Nate’s tense. Like he’s trying to hide something.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but…”

I do not like the sound of that. “But what?”

“We stole the accident report. The one Paxton took from me after the crash. And he was obviously unhappy about us removing it from his office. We…we started to think he might have had something to do with the accident.”

“God.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. Paxton did have something to do with the accident. He helped cover up the fact that Thalia was driving. He helped me deceive the police. He’ll be in a shit load of trouble if that information comes to light. He’s an erratic, proud, fiercely mercenary guy; what would he do if he thought he was going to be exposed? I have no idea. Would he hurt someone, though? No. No, there’s just no way.

The elevator dings, the doors rolling back, and my feet are suddenly rooted to the floor. I can’t fucking move. It’s just one step forward. One step, and then I will be headed out into the world. Ever since the house arrest ended, the knowledge that I’m free to leave the Osiris Building has been comfort enough for me. The fact that I could step into this elevator if I wanted to, hit a button and walk out onto the street, has made the act of doing so unnecessary. For weeks after my sentence ended, I would lie in bed at night, sweating, freaking the fuck out, thinking about how the world might have changed since I last found myself out amongst it. And I would think about Chloe. I would imagine walking down a busy street in the city and seeing her face everywhere I looked, and the guilt was too much to bear. I know I wasn’t the one behind the wheel that night. I know it with every fiber of my being, and yet if I hadn’t reconnected with her, if I hadn’t asked her to come with us that night, she wouldn’t have even been in the goddamn car…

It was all too much to handle, so I decided I just wouldn’t go outside. Simple. And that’s how life has been ever since. Very, very simple. Until now.

I swallow, shoving down the urgent need to head back through the glass door to the apartment, locking it firmly behind me. I take a deep breath. Every part of me is screaming to move back, but instead…I take a step forward. There’s only one thing in the world that could force me to do this; Beth is out there right now, and she needs me. Nate thinks she’s in danger. No matter how unlikely it is that Paxton would cause her harm, I have to make sure. She’s too important. She’s my entire fucking world. She’s everything .

As the doors close, shutting me inside the elevator, my ears are ringing—a high-pitched buzz that drowns out all other sound. It feels like my heart is flat-lining. I don’t breathe. For seventy-one floors, as the small silver box I’m standing in plummets to the ground, I don’t take a single breath. Every second that passes is torture. If I hit the emergency stop button, I can override the system and redirect the elevator back up to the penthouse. It would be easy. It’d be so damn fast, the alarm wouldn’t even have chance to register with the North Industry security teams. I close my hand inside my pocket, clenching it hard into a fist.

It feels like a forest fire is blazing out of control in the pit of my stomach. I’m trapped inside the inferno, voluntarily holding my hands over the flames, and I can’t do anything about it. In fact, I must venture further into the fire. I must deal with the fear of being burned if I’m to make sure Beth is okay.

Her dark hair. Her dark eyes. Her flushed, delicately pink cheeks. The way she laughs. The way she smiles. I’ve fallen for the woman. I love her more than I thought my heart capable, and now I will literally do anything to save her. No price is too high. No cost is too great.

The elevator barely makes a sound as it reaches the ground floor. There’s a soft hiss as the doors roll back, and then I’m faced with another wall to overcome. The small waiting room I find myself in leads to the parking structure below the Osiris Building, where Nate keeps at least three or four of my cars on hand. The parking structure is reserved for the more high power heavy hitters who lease office space in lower floors of the tower. It’s late in the afternoon already, so there’s every chance most people will have gone home now. There’s always a couple of people who linger, though, working late and burning the midnight oil. I don’t want to run into anyone, but what choice do I have? I pull up the hood on my sweatshirt, tugging the material low over my head, hunching over, trying to make myself invisible.

God, Raphael. Get your shit together. Get your fucking shit together, man.

Walking out of the waiting room feels like I’m stepping out of the airlock of a spaceship without a suit. The air is muggy and stifling as I beeline for the bay of cars at the very back of the parking lot, already scanning the area for potential hazards. I press my thumb up against the fingerprint lock I had installed on the red Tesla in the middle of the bay. I had the scanners fitted to all of my vehicles, so they’ve all been primed to recognize me. I never really envisioned using any of them, honestly. The prospect of climbing into another car after what happened to Chloe has always been enough to make me break out into hives. It’s amazing how much the body remembers, though. How weirdly normal it feels to slide into the driver’s seat, put the vehicle in drive and pull out of the space.

How long has it been since I went to Thalia’s apartment? Way more than five years. Our little group had kind of drifted a little in the years leading up to the night I was arrested. College and our studies pulled us all in different directions. When we did meet up, it was generally at a restaurant, or, selfishly, I made them all come to me at my parents’ old residence. I was so different back then. I was another person entirely, full of my own self-importance and utterly oblivious to other people’s needs or desires. I was a lightning rod that attracted so much energy. People gravitated towards me, and I let them. I did nothing to meet anyone halfway. Didn’t see the need to. Why would I, when I was the great Raphael North, the man who turned North Industries around? The man who saved three hundred jobs in a day. The man who earned more money while he slept than most guys earned their entire lives. I thought I was fucking invincible.

Despite the years and the events that have so violently altered our lives, I still remember the way to Thalia’s building. Being inside the car feels safe somehow. I can pretend the lights, the other cars, the thousands and thousands of people swarming on the streets, aren’t really there. They’re not real. They could easily be a part of a simulation, nothing more than expertly rendered pixels all programmed to react and interact with their environment. I manage to convince myself of this as I turn through side streets, burning through red lights, my foot leaning on the gas pedal, the tires screeching as I grow closer and closer to my destination. I enter some sort of numb state, where nothing happening on the other side of the Tesla’s windshield can effect me. I’m protected here. I’m strong. I am capable. I’m going to find Beth and make sure she’s okay. I’m going to hold her in my arms. I’m going to tell her how much I love her, and everything is going to be okay. This bullshit with Paxton is going to be resolved, and we’re all going to sit down and figure this shit out once and for all. Beth will know everything there is to know about the accident, and she’ll leave well enough alone. Paxton will see Beth cares for me just as deeply as I care for her, and that she’s not after my money. As for me… I’m going to put the past behind me. Somehow, I’m going to learn how to forgive myself. No more running and hiding myself away up in my high tower. No more shying away from reality. Life is short. I’ve allowed too much time to pass me by. Now, I need to look forward. I need to work on building something truly special with Beth.

I pull up outside Thalia’s apartment, and a wave of panic lights up my nerve endings. I feel it all over my body, from the roots of my hair down to the tips of my toes. What are my friends going to do when they see me outside of the penthouse? I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do if I find them arguing like children with one another.

I don’t give a shit about leaving the car on the side of the street. I keep my head down as I hurry across the sidewalk. I don’t make eye contact with anyone. I don’t even raise my head. My hand’s on the polished brass handle of the entrance when suddenly the sound of breaking glass and crunching metal fills the air.

“Oh my god!”

“Holy fuck!”

People on the street start screaming. I spin around, and…

What the fuck ?

I can’t…

My eyes aren’t processing what they’re seeing.

Can’t.

Can’t breathe.

My body is made of lead. My skin is prickling, a thousand fire ants biting at me.

The Tesla…

The Tesla I just got out of…

The roof is caved in, the metal crumpled, the windows shattered…

And there’s a body lying on top of the roof.

A woman.

The body is a woman.

A line of blood trickles from the corner of her mouth, crimson and thick. Her eyes are open, staring at right at me. Blue. Familiar. So familiar.

Thalia.

Thalia.

My friend…

…dead.