24.
CASSIE
Cassie sat on Miranda’s couch, a glass of scotch in her hand. Her foot tapped aggressively on the floor, and it was a good job it was carpeted, otherwise it would have been far more annoying.
Miranda chewed on her lip, sipping from her own glass. “What happened?” she asked.
“He needs to ring his boss about the newspaper.”
“No. I mean, what happened in the picture in the papers.”
Cassie hated that she blushed. “I lost it a bit after Qugrom didn’t change his mind and Vikram was just trying to calm me down. It was really nothing.”
Miranda raised a single brow. “Right. Nothing.”
Cassie groaned. She was so tempted to let it all spill out. She shouldn’t be ashamed that she’d had a relationship with someone. “It was a little bit what it looked like,” she conceded. “There’s a bit of something there, you know?” A vast understatement, but the only one she felt comfortable making. She’d never spoken to Miranda about relationships before, and she was still wary that she was going to embarrass herself when Vikram inevitably told her that he had to stop speaking to her because of his job. “But we’re both professionals. Nothing was ever going to happen. That was just a bit of a slip up. That’s all. I can’t believe someone caught it on camera.” She shook her head and downed her drink. “So stupid.”
Miranda was quick to top up her glass. “This conference was a real shit show start to finish, huh?”
“You’ve got that right. I’m almost relieved I’m never going to have to attend one again.”
“You really think the director will fire you? It was just one little thing. People will have forgotten about it in days.”
“I directly disobeyed him. I’m going to get the boot. I’m at least going to be booted down to being back in the field, even if I stay within the company. I can’t wait to get back to the front line. To actually see the people I’m helping.”
“I don’t think I could ever go back. It’s too much for me.”
Cassie absorbed all the guilt that came with that statement. “You shouldn’t have stayed. You should have gone home.”
Miranda immediately shook her head. “That isn’t what I meant. I don’t feel any guilt about what happened here. I did what I thought was right. And I followed the instructions of my superior, so I’m sure I can still keep a job in admin somewhere,” she teased.
Cassie laughed, but then buried her head in her hands. “I can’t believe it all fell apart in a week.”
At the same time, though, memories of her and Vikram flooded her. Even in between the grief of losing Archie, and the failure of the conference, they were some of the happiest moments of her entire life. Vikram had made everything feel okay even though it wasn’t, at all. He’d been there for her like no one ever had before.
And she loved him, at least a little bit.
She knew she’d carry him with her for the rest of her life, hold all the guys she met in the future up to the Vikram pedestal to see if they were good enough. She knew he was going to pick his job over her—it was something he’d worked his entire life for, and even loving someone a little bit wasn’t enough to trump that. She couldn’t blame him.
He was so important to her now, though, and she’d always have that.
She couldn’t bring herself to see this week as a total failure, or to wish it hadn’t happened.
“Things will seem normal again so quickly,” Miranda said, entirely confident. Cassie wished she could have that much optimism—or that she could act as well as Miranda. She didn’t know enough about the aide to decipher if she was genuine or not.
“You’re probably right. It’s the not knowing, I guess. Facing Jensen is the last thing I want to do right now.”
“It’ll be over before you know it.” Miranda topped Cassie’s glass up again.
“I feel like I’m alone at the drinking table,” she joked. Miranda had only taken a couple of sips from her first glass. “I thought we were drinking to failure together.”
Miranda laughed, scratching the back of her head. “I still have a headache. I don’t think drinking is going to help that.”
“It helps everything,” Cassie said with a wave of the hand. “Thank you, though, for listening to me. I know I’ve been whining and a bit all over the place this week in general. I hope I haven’t snapped too much.”
Miranda’s smile was tight. “You haven’t, don’t worry.”
“I hope Vikram’s call is going okay.” She chewed her bottom lip.
Miranda stood up, suddenly, and Cassie jumped. “I’m sorry,” Miranda said.
“Why?”
She watched, eyebrows pinched, as Miranda turned around to rifle through her purse.
And then there was a gun pointed in her direction. “I’m sorry,” Miranda repeated, but there was no shake in her hand. No hesitation as she pulled the trigger.
Cassie barely had time to dodge the fatal shot, and it grazed her cheek instead. The sting made her cry out, but the adrenaline kicked in before the pain could properly register.
She had to get to Vikram. She wanted to go for the door, but she would have been a clear shot for Miranda, so she threw herself behind the couch instead. She took a bullet to the bicep as she moved, but it wasn’t critical. Miranda had been firing the whole time, and she had to be out of bullets soon. Cassie knew weapons—she’d lived in war zones for months at a time—and this was the sound of a gun with bullets, not a laser pistol.
It was loud, but the soundproofing in these hotel rooms was top of the range, and the chances of Vikram hearing her through multiple walls was non-existent.
She had to get to her panic button.
On her knees, she peeked above the arm of the couch for just a second, and immediately heard the sound of the trigger. She barely dodged in time.
She was unarmed and trapped.
Miranda could have come after her though, and hadn’t. Maybe she was wary that Cassie had a knife on her, but Cassie decided to take it that her aide was reluctant. She’d apologized twice. Maybe she could work with that.
If she ignored the graze on her cheek and the shot in her arm, anyway.
She peeked her head back above the couch once more, and met the same response.
Then she heard Miranda attempting to reload.
Cassie launched herself toward her purse, and snatched it from under the coffee table before diving back behind the couch.
Once there, she scrambled to find the panic button and pressed it as hard as she could.
Vikram was the only hope she had now.
The first shot came through the couch just at the side of her head, and she couldn’t hold back the scream. There was no hesitation or compassion as Miranda emptied the clip into the couch. Cassie huddled against the wall, making herself as small as possible in the corner, the knife from her purse clutched in her hand. One bullet caught her in the thigh, and she whimpered, pressing her hand against the wound.
When she heard Miranda reloading again, she took a deep breath and decided to make her move. She had a knife and a few moments to make it count. If Miranda unloaded another clip into the couch, one was going to hit her somewhere more damaging than the thigh.
She stood up and ignored the throbbing in her leg as she ran around the couch. Miranda had fully reloaded by the time Cassie got there, knife brandished. She barely dodged a shot and grabbed Miranda’s gun hand, knife going to her throat.
But she hesitated. She looked into Miranda’s tear-stained eyes and she couldn’t do it.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered instead.
Miranda didn’t respond, she just struggled against Cassie’s grip.
And then there was a series of blasts on the other side of the door, and it slammed open. Vikram was there, guns in each hand and fully enraged. He bared his fangs and pointed his barrels in Miranda’s direction.
But they didn’t go off.
Cassie and Miranda were too entwined, she realized, as he threw the guns on the floor and strode toward them instead.
Miranda used Cassie's distraction to break free, though, and in the frenzy, shot in Vikram's direction until her clip was empty.
He didn't seem deterred at first, and Cassie wasn't even sure where he'd been shot as he pulled Miranda off her and threw her across the room.
But then as he should have been launching after her and restraining her, he faltered. He stumbled, and Cassie was immediately beside his huge body trying to pick him up. She forgot all about Miranda for a moment as horror took over.
He'd been shot.
He'd been shot a lot.
His shirt was drenched in blood around his stomach and chest, and when he coughed, blood ran down his chin.
"No," Cassie cried, helping him onto the couch so he didn't fall forward. "No. No, Vikram, please. You're going to be okay."
His red skin was fading fast, and he was losing his rage. It had to be bad if he was already going back to normal when Miranda was still alive.
It wasn't until she heard Miranda scrambling forward to reach her gun she knew she had to act. She reluctantly took her hands from Vikram and grabbed the knife she'd discarded in the flurry. Miranda had gotten her own knife from somewhere, and was running toward Cassie now, brandishing it.
Cassie's instinct was to run. She wanted to make for the door and see if she could find someone in time, but she fought that instinct. She couldn't leave Vikram here alone when he was suffering, and she knew Miranda was faster. Cassie had been shot in the leg, so she wasn't going to be outrunning anyone.
She had to stand here and fight.
She dodged backward as Miranda swung toward her, and swung back herself. They did this multiple times, barely missing the other.
Cassie was beginning to struggle. The bullet was in her good arm and it was throbbing painfully. Blood was running down the side of her head and into her ear where the first shot had grazed, and her leg was struggling to hold weight.
She was a mess, and Miranda barely had a scratch on her.
"Just tell me why," she pleaded with her aide. "Just tell me why you're doing this." Maybe she could stall instead. They were fighting with the door open. Someone had to hear eventually.
Miranda growled and lunged forward, the knife catching Cassie in the side. She groaned, but the stab wasn't deep. She'd pulled back in time and swung back, forcing Miranda away.
Miranda wouldn't open her mouth and answer, and it was the drive Cassie needed. She was going to make this bitch pay for her betrayal. Vikram was one of the only things in the world Cassie really cared about, and he was lying on the couch struggling for breath, and Miranda wouldn't even give her a reason.
She deserved everything she got.
Cassie grabbed at Miranda's knife hand. She cut her palm, but she got her hand around Miranda's wrist, forcing the knife away and allowing her to make her move. She was swift, pushing Miranda into the table and throwing all her weight to keep her pinned there. Her knife was at Miranda's throat, breaking skin but not enough to kill.
Miranda struggled with so much force Cassie knew she couldn't hold on for much longer. And when she lost her grip, Miranda would kill her.
It was do or die.
And so Cassie did.
She stabbed Miranda in the stomach, burying her knife to the hilt in her former-friend's flesh.
She dropped the knife immediately as Miranda groaned and slumped against the table. Cassie's hands were on her face, the cut on her palm smearing blood everywhere, but she didn't stay frozen for long. She found her purse and grabbed her phone, ringing the emergency number and begging anyone and everyone to get to the room as soon as possible.
She knelt beside Vikram, who was slumped on the couch, eyes closed, and cried. She tried to stop the bleeding with the throw on the back of the couch, but there were too many wounds and it didn't seem to be doing anything. He was still breathing, but his chest was barely rising and falling.
He was fading.
"Vikram, please don't die," she whispered, clutching his hand with both of hers. "Please don't die. I think I'm in love with you."
People rushed in soon after that. She was pushed away from the body and ushered into a corner by police while paramedics did their jobs. She struggled against the police holding her, struggling to get to him. She couldn't even look at Miranda, who was being tended by enough paramedics that she must still be alive.
"Tell us what happened," one officer said, hands on her shoulders. "Just sit down and talk us through it."
"I need to see him," she said instead. "Let me see him. I need to know if he's okay."
The hands on her shoulders were firm. "I'm Krix. I'm just here to help. He's being looked after. What you need to do is tell us what happened."
"Miranda tried to kill me," she said, stopping her resistance against Krix but not relaxing at all. "She tried to kill me and she might have killed Vikram. Can I just go and ask, please? Just to make sure he's okay?"
Krix's grip on her shoulders softened, and he nodded to his colleague. "Get a status update on the bodyguard."
If she strained her ears she could hear what was being said, but there was so much shouting and talking between paramedics and officers and IU staff, and her brain was so frazzled, that she could only pick up snippets.
"Why did she try to kill you?" Krix tried to bring it back as Cassie stared over her shoulder, chewing her lip and watching the people huddled over Vikram. She couldn't see his face through the crowd.
She wished she'd told him everything about how she was feeling before this happened.
"I don't know why she tried to kill me. I thought she was my friend. She must have been working with the assassin who killed Archie."
Cassie shook her head, running her hand over it and swearing again when she'd forgotten it was still bleeding.
"Can we have a medic to look at Miss Maxwell, please," Krix called.
"No, no, I'm okay. I'll be fine. Just make sure Vikram is okay."
"You've been shot and stabbed multiple times," Krix said, guiding her to a seat at the table and sitting her down. "You need medical attention."
"The bodyguard is in critical condition," the officer who had been sent to check on him said. "He's going to be flown off-planet to a hospital."
"I have to go, too." Cassie immediately stood back up even though attention being brought to her wounds had put them at the forefront of her mind. The pain was almost unbearable, but she put on a brave face and tried to look imploring. "Please."
A voice in the back of her head nagged that she needed to stay on the space station. She needed to deal with the PR fallout and try to manage the press before someone higher up at the foundation could take over.
But that didn't matter anymore. She was done with that—with putting the foundation above her happiness. She could help people and have a personal life of her own, even if Vikram wasn't going to be the man she settled down and had a family with. He had his own career to put first.
"I want to go," she repeated, more forceful this time. It wasn't a plea, it was a statement. "Medics can treat me on the way there without being separated from Vikram."
Krix sighed. "Stay here. I'll talk to the paramedics."
She barely kept herself in place as she watched him talk to the paramedics, who were getting ready to lift Vikram onto a stretcher. His face was white as a sheet, and it looked so unnatural her stomach clenched. All she wanted was to see a smile back on his face, some light in his eyes.
Krix came back with her. "You can travel with the guard to the hospital, but I and another officer will come too, and we will need to take a formal statement."
She was too relieved that she was going with Vikram to bother contesting the fact she was obviously a suspect right now, and he hadn't immediately believed her story about Miranda being the one to start it all.
That didn't matter, though. She could convince him of that later, when she knew Vikram was going to be all right.