Page 159 of Pulse Zero
“Malcolm knew how bad it would get. He knew what it would all do to me.”
Lane’s expression shifts, concern bleeding into something deeper. “Case…”
Images flash in my mind. Pain and fear and the way everythingbroke. The wayIbroke. The waywebroke. It was years of it, of obsession and anger and bitterness. Of feeling so fucking hollow.
“He needed me broken. He needed the trauma and the conditions that would push me over the edge.”
Harrison’s back straightens. “You really think—”
“I don’t think,” I snap, something wild in my chest now. “Iknow.”
Because it fits, too perfectly. Every piece slides into place in a way that makes me want to tear it all back apart again. I drag a hand down my face, trying to ground myself, but there’s nothing solid to grab onto. My vision goes out of focus, and I feel like I’m crumbling from the inside out.
“That’s giving Malcolm an awful lot of credit,” Harrison says slowly, carefully as though he’s making sure his words reach me wherever the fuck I am right now. “To plan everything for that long, to that extent.”
“You’re not wrong. But Malcolm is smart. And patient. I can’t explain how I know this is true. I just do.”
“Well, we were hesitant to believe you about Ascension in the first place.” Lane gives me a sheepish smile, which is almost calming with how endearing it is. “But the question now is why.”
That’s the worst part of it because…
“I don’t fucking know.”
The words feel wrong because Ishouldknow. I have everything, all this data, all these files, all this access. And still,nothing.
“But I’m going to find out,” I add, quieter now, something hard and determined settling into place beneath the chaos. I glance over at the camera again becauseifReese is watching, I hope we’re on the same page.
“We could try to help. We could—”
Harrison moves his hand to Lane’s leg, gentle but firm, interrupting his husband.
Lane frowns at him. “What?”
Harrison glances at me, then back at him. “You may be a reincarnated soul, angel, but we don’t exactly stand a chance against people who can…” He gestures vaguely toward the screen, the air,me. “Do all ofthis.”
Lane’s shoulders drop. “That doesn’t mean we should just do nothing.”
“I didn’t say that. But you already know I refuse to let you get hurt trying to fight something we don’t understand.” His grip tightens a little on Lane’s leg, protective. Then he looks back at me. “If there’s something wecando, something on our end, let us know. Data, analysis, medical, whatever. We’ll help where we can.”
“Thanks.” There’s something thick in my throat that I have to swallow back. “I appreciate it.”
I glance at the camera and give it a look, one that says,this is why you’re not allowed to kill them.
Looking away, I turn back to the screen, to the files, to everything Malcolm built. To the chaos still unfolding, the truth I can’t ignore.
I take a long, slow breath, then let it out.
“If he thinks this ends the way he planned, he’s about to be very fucking wrong.”
That fucking motherfucker.
I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before. It clicks now in a way I can’t ignore, and I hate Malcolm even more for it. I honestly didn’t think that was possible.
Something in my gut tells me Cason is right. He wasn’t just collateral or a distraction. Malcolm didn’t only shape my future when he hired me to kidnap Cason. He shaped his nephew’s too. He planned for everything, and I wish I knew how the fuck he did it.
Seven years of damage, of pressure, of carefully placed pieces. And Cason right in the center of it all.
I’d really like to know why too, but right now, I have to do something else first.
