all about the package.” He swipes up and down himself. “‘Golden-boy-genius saves company’ makes a far better story than ‘some street rat diddles himself in lab for years, not in time to save the boss’s wife but look, here’s some face cream out of it at least’—”
I grab him by his shirt and slam him up against the nearest wall.
He just smirks at me and speaks in a condescending tone. “Yes, violence is always the answer to you low-class types, isn’t it? Help me help you on your way out. Take a swing.”
I drop him and take several stumbling steps back. This is all a game to him. A game where he thinks he’s pulling the strings. He thinks he’s always in control.
“Too bad. That was your last chance. Shoulda taken it.”
I glare up at him, but not in time. I don’t see him coming until he’s almost on top of me, fists swinging.
“Fucker!” I shout, and try to get an arm up to block, but I’m too late. His blow lands square on my left cheek, and it knocks me to the floor. He’s wearing a class ring and it digs in and tears my flesh, so there’s blood running down my cheek when he’s done.
He dances back to his feet and smooths down his suit coat and pants. Then he just shakes his head at me on the floor in disgust. “You’re done here. Pack your shit and leave.”
I want to get up, roar in rage, and tear his fucking face off. Anyone who really knows the guy would understand and cheer me on.
But that’s the thing. Nobody does know the real Adam Archer. He’s that plastic for a reason—so everyone believes the benign Ken-doll act. It’s his secret weapon.
And what happens to Daphne if I suddenly go to jail for assault and battery. Because if I started in on Adam, I don’t know if I could stop. Where does that leave the girl who’s always left behind, last in everyone’s considerations?
I can’t be one more person she counts on to just up and disappear from her life.
Even thinking of her makes all the shit I’m feeling a little less oppressive. I pull my phone out of my lab coat and call her. I know it’s old school, an actual phone call, but I’d kill to hear her voice right now.
She doesn’t answer, but I still close my eyes and sink back against the wall while I listen to her message: This is Daphne’s phone. I’m not here right now but leave a message and…yada yada, you know the rest. Bye!
It would be creepy to call back just so I can listen to her chipper voice on the message, right? And I know it was recorded a long time ago, back before her mom died. She’s having a hard time with everything, not that you’d know it by the way she’s absolutely disappeared into her studies.
Some kids would’ve abandoned working so hard after losing the parent all the work was intended to save, but not Daph. Never Daph. It was like there was a new fire under her butt now that Battleman’s had taken her mom, like she wanted to say F you to the disease even more, and was more determined than ever to figure out what made it tick and how to stop it.
Like father, like daughter, except that I suspected if Daphne ever had children, she’s take all the time in the world to love and cherish them.
For just a brief second, I let the fantasy take shape, Daphne and I coming home from the lab together, picking the kids up from school, then all going home to cook a rambunctious dinner…a family, a home, everything I never had but always dreamed of…or really only let myself dream of since meeting her.
Everything seems possible when I’m with her. It’s her magic.
But she’s still so young, and vulnerable after her mother’s death. I can’t go with all this to her—she’s still in college, already working too hard and the last one I want Adam pointing his sights on is her if he decides she’s a threat to his plan.
And that means I need to fight for her company. Because she can’t yet.
Which leaves only one person left to put a stop to Adam’s ambitions before he destroys us all.
I need to go have a chat with Dr. Laurel.
When I knock on the door to Daphne’s father’s office, at first I don’t hear anything.
“I told you, he’s