Love on the Brain(98)

“They teach you. During astronaut training. Insert Space Force joke.” He laughs once, humorlessly. “But I won’t need to use it. Because we’re going up to the roof. Poor little Bee. In a few short days she lost everything. Couldn’t handle the stress. Decided to jump.”

“I will do no such—”

Guy points the gun at me.

Oh, shit. I’m going to die. In my stupid office. Killed by a stemlord. I’m going to die without having had a cat. I’m going to die without having admitted to Levi that I love him more than I thought possible. Without a chance to show him—to show myself—that I can be brave.

At least Marie had Pierre for a while. At least she took a chance. At least she tried not to act like the stupid coward I’ve been and oh God, maybe if I beg Guy he’ll let me text Levi and I’ll be able to tell him, I just want to tell him, it seems such a waste not to have told him, and—

A meowing sound. We both turn. Félicette is on the filing cabinet near the door, growling at Guy. He gives her a confused look. “What the hell is—”

Félicette pounces on him with a shriek, clutching his head and clawing at him. Guy thrashes around, leaving the door empty. I sprint out of the room, running as fast as I can—not nearly fast enough. I can hear steps right behind me.

“Stop! Bee, stop, or I’m fucking going to—”

I’m at the end of the hallway. My legs are giving out, my lungs on fire. He’s going to kill me. Oh my God, he’s going to kill me.

I turn the corner and dart to the landing. Guy yells something I cannot make out. I take my phone out to call 911, but there is a string of loud noises behind me. Shit, has he shot me? No, not a gunshot.

I turn around, expecting to see him come at me, but—

Levi.

Levi?

Levi.

He and Guy are tussling on the floor, grunting and struggling and rolling around in a vicious, violent embrace. I stare at them for several seconds, open-mouthed, paralyzed. Levi’s bigger, but Guy has a fucking gun, and when he adjusts his grip to aim at Levi I—

Levi!

I don’t even think about it—I run back to where the fight is happening and kick Guy in the ribs so forcefully, I feel a zing of pain travel from my toes up my spinal cord.

I blink, and by the time my eyes are open again Levi’s pinning Guy to the floor, holding his arms behind his back. The gun has skittered several feet away. It is, in fact, very close to me.

I look at it. Consider picking it up. Decide not to.

Levi.

“You okay, Bee?” He sounds winded.

I nod. “He . . . he . . .” Guy is struggling. Demanding to be let go. Swearing. Insulting Levi, me, the world. My legs feel like Jell-O—the off-brand one, which doesn’t bounce very well. I could use a puke bucket.

“Bee?” Levi says.

“. . . Yeah?”

“Can you do something for me, sweetheart?”

Unlikely. “Yeah?”

“I want you to take a step to your right. Another. Another.” My knee hits the edge of one of the lobby couches. Levi smiles, like he’s incredibly proud of me. “Perfect. Now sit down.”

I do it, confused. There’s something wet on my hand. I look down: Félicette is licking my fingers. “I . . . Why?”

“Because I’ll need to restrain Guy until security gets here. And I won’t be able to catch you when you pass out.”

“But I . . .” My eyelids flutter closed, and . . .

Well. You know the drill by now.





25





ORIENS-LACUNOSUM MOLECULARE INTERNEURONS: COURAGE



“NOT TO BE whiny,” I tell the nurse with a desperate-yet-grateful-yet-really-desperate smile. “I appreciate everything you’re doing, but NIH has notoriously crappy health insurance, and if I told you what a recent Ph.D. makes a year, you’d discharge me immediately.” And give me ten bucks for the cab home.

“NASA will cover this,” Kaylee says. She’s on the bed next to me, leaning against my pillow as she shows me the wonders of TikTok. I’m clearly going to have to download this time-sinking black hole of an app.

“Or you’ll sue them,” Rocío adds from the guest chair. She’s sprawled comfortably, a GRE prep manual on her lap and her booted feet on top of the covers. The things I let her do, just because she is, as Kaylee would put it, “my fave.”

“I’m not going to sue NASA.”

“What if they decide to call their next Mars rover The Marie Curie but they end up misspelling it The Mariah Carey?”

I mull it over. “I might sue in that case.”

Rocío gives me a pleased I know you smile. My phone buzzes.

REIKE: OMG you’re on the NEWS

REIKE: HERE IN NORWAY IN THIS PUB I’M AT

REIKE: Is this what stardom feels like?

I close my eyes, which proves to be a mistake. The image of Reike climbing over the counter of a Bergen dive bar and pointing at the TV is disturbingly vivid.

BEE: You don’t even speak Norwegian.

REIKE: No, but the news lady said NASA and Houston, and they put the mugshot of the Guy guy on the screen

REIKE: lol the Guy guy I’m hilarious

BEE: Are you drunk?