Page 156 of Studs Up
“And?” Ethan waited.
“Marcel.”
“It is not,” Ethan gave a shocked laugh. Ethan would know exactly who Marcel was. Everyone in the room nodded.
“Holy fuck,” he dragged his hand over his face and realized he was still wearing the hat. He yanked it off and tried to look more professional, but the face paint ruined it. “I just had beers with him two weeks ago.”
Ethan paced, but there wasn’t much room for him to really get anywhere.
“Okay,” he took a breath. “I’m going to need to call fraud and get them up. I’m going to need to ask you questions-”
“No,” Nolan said bluntly.
“No?” Ethan repeated. “You don’t get to dictate how a fucking investigation goes.”
“Ethan, he has been living on adrenaline, cortisol, and no sleep for six years.” Nolan jerked his head to me.
“Oh,” Ethan said as though he understood. I did not, and seemingly the rest of the room.
I tugged on Nolan's arm. He looked down at me.
“You’re about to have a huge letdown. I fully expect you to be dead to the world by dawn.”
“Oh.” And I wish he hadn’t said it because now I felt it. He was right. My body was heavy, and my brain was thick with all of my secrets and privacy exposed.
“Okay, I’ll take statements from everyone here and then call you tomorrow.”
“No.” Nolan was such an ass, but all the energy I had was going to keeping me on my feet and my eyes open.
“Jesus, Reed,” Ethan said, irritated.
“He’ll still be sleeping.”
“You don’t know that.”
Nolan raised his eyebrow at him, challenging Ethan to argue.
“Fine,” Ethan put his hands up. “Fine. God, I hate you. Call me then when he’s ready.”
“Now you’re getting it.”
“Oh fuck off,” he waved his hand at Nolan. “Where’s Marcel?”
“Security has him,” Nolan said.
“Right,” he said. “Okay. Call me.” He gave Nolan a pointed look, and Nolan nodded.
After all that, it was finally quiet, and we stood together in front of both our teams, facing their judgment.
Their eyes were all on us, and the silence stretched. The celebration was ruined. Our lives were invaded, but it was all out now, and what came, came.
Regardless, Nolan hadn’t given up, and there was no way I could ever make it up to him.
“So,” Charlemagne cleared his throat. “What now?”
“Now I take him home,” Nolan said. Yes. Home. His bed was only a few minutes away, and I really, really wanted to collapse in it and just forget all this had happened.
“He’s gonna need a few days off,” Nolan told Santos.
