Elusion(52)

What do I say to him now? Do I even acknowledge what happened?

I take another step forward and push the unlock button near the door, which then opens.

Josh is sitting on the edge of my bed, his head dipped down as he stares at a wrinkled piece of paper. My room suddenly feels so small. All of my attention is focused on the broadness of his shoulders; the way his waffle knit shirt hugs his muscular arms; his square jaw; and the slight beard stubble on his cheeks. But when he turns to look at me, the only thing I can see are his deep-set golden-brown eyes, which are unmistakably red in the corners.

“Hey,” he says, quickly sticking the paper in his pocket and mindlessly running his hand over his short, spiked hair. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say. “How are you?”

Instead of answering my question, he stands up and turns away from me. That says more than words ever could.

He regrets the kiss. He wishes he could take it back.

I step away from him as I brace myself for whatever is about to come out of his mouth—a mouth that I still remember tasting like spiced apples.

“Regan,” he begins, in a slightly wavering tone that only confirms my suspicions. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry about what?”

I know this is a dumb, passive-aggressive response, but a part of me wants him to admit what I fear to be true. I can’t take the thought of another person not being honest with me.

There’s a long silence that pretty much drives a shard of glass into my nerves. When Josh finally turns back around, he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“It’s my fault that we’re back to square one,” he says.

“What?”

“The firewall.” Josh grits his teeth and punches an angry fist into the air. “It was right there, in that cavern. But because of me . . . we missed our chance.”


I take in a breath, somewhat relieved that he’s saying our kiss was a mistake for a reason that doesn’t involve his feelings for me, but I realize that he’s right. Our mission to scope out the firewall was temporarily derailed, and we won’t be able to reenter Elusion for another half hour.

Who knows what else will go wrong by then?

All of a sudden, I hear a male voice from downstairs call out, “Regan?”

Oh God. I think I just tempted fate.

“Regan? You upstairs?”

Josh’s head whips toward the bedroom door. “Is that—”

“Patrick,” I whisper.

When he turns his gaze back to me, Josh looks a little panicked. “How’d he get in the house?”

“He has a courtesy code on his passcard,” I reply, blood pumping through my veins like an express-line Traxx.

Josh rolls his eyes. “Great.”

“What if he knows about the QuTap?”

“I think he’d sound a lot more pissed, don’t you?”

I push past Josh, upset that he’s not helping matters with his snarky attitude. “Just stay here. I’ll get rid of him.”

I rush toward the bedroom door, almost colliding with the painted glass when it doesn’t slide open fast enough. I’m not really thinking now, just moving instinctively. I hurry down the hall, and when I reach the top of the steps, I call to Patrick before I even see him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, skipping down the stairs two at a time.

“I wanted to see you,” he says.

Patrick looks every inch the corporate titan, with his blond hair neatly combed and gelled, and the collar of his unbuttoned wool designer trench popped up. But his face is even more haggard than this morning. His skin is dry and pallid, and there are these light-purple circles forming underneath his eyes. His appearance is so distracting I barely notice the indigo-blue shopping bag he’s holding in his left hand.

“Is everything okay?” I have to admit I’m surprised by how much I care after everything that went on today.

“Not really,” he replies. “I—”

Patrick’s voice catches and stops cold, his gaze traveling above me and up the stairs. I turn around to look over my shoulder and spot Josh quietly walking down the steps. My jaw slides open and I gawk at him when he finally joins me at the bottom landing.

What the hell is he doing?

“Hey,” Josh says casually, staring directly at Patrick.

I can see red blotches forming on Patrick’s neck—something that only happens when he’s absolutely furious.

“What’s going on, Ree?” he asks, totally ignoring Josh.

“Oh, um, Josh just drove me home,” I say, my stomach quivering again.

“From where? It’s almost eleven,” Patrick says.

Josh shifts in front of me, his eyes never leaving Patrick. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

Patrick looks at the floor, backing away from both of us.

“Let me handle this, okay?” I say to Josh, nudging him in the side.

But it’s like he doesn’t hear me at all.

“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you.” Josh advances on Patrick like a target, but his voice is casual and nonthreatening.

“Sorry,” Patrick says. “I’ve been really busy. Any word from Nora?”

“No,” Josh says, shaking his head. “And now it seems that she isn’t the only one we should be trying to help.”