The Six: Genesis | A Reverse Harem Novel

Thirty-Six

"Ryker buried it."

Chris stops near me, angling himself to shield me from the hallway cameras. Wetness clings to my cheeks from the tears I cannot hold back. When he reaches forward to wipe a few I missed away, I lean into his touch and groan.

Mentally, he latches onto me, pulling me into a web of comfort. Between the haunting death of my parents, the threats from the rogue organisms, and losing someone I considered a friend, I'm barely treading water. It's like I'm holding onto the edge of an embattled boat and wild waves are thrashing me at every turn.

Loss is something I know well. It's a part of me—an extension of my soul—but this betrayal bleeds deep. Is it silly to worry not only death comes in threes?

Where the fuck am I supposed to do now? There's a roadmap in tech, and mercifully, I know it better than the back of my hand. What makes it so easily traversable is the reality that there are no rules.

With no set parameters, the only thing preventing innovation is the limitation of your imagination. Every day and every night, I dare to dream. I dream and dream until there's nothing left to do but get it onto paper, then into my design software and make it a reality.

Hours of silence with numbers consuming my thoughts. I'm not human when I'm creating. Nothing more than a brain in a sack of flesh, and at the intersection of possibilities and realities, I come alive. Sadly, when those moments pass, I must be myself again, the sadness daggers its way into my heart.

I don't think there's a cure for loss. And the stunted emotions I whelve only dig a deeper well inside of me.

It's a painful struggle to look toward a happy, safe future. If Chris wants this—wants me—I'll hold tight for as long as I can. Blindly, I'll need more courage than I've ever gathered to face what may cause a huge disruption in everything I've built.

How many other companies or nations have made this brutal error? How many have let this Sharife SolJourner come in and make a mockery of everything I've built? Dozens of contracts would be in danger—would end—and I'd have to live with the destruction of work I'd bled for.

Fucking idiots.

"I know they were murdered, but you never talk about it." Chris pushes closer, aligning our bodies completely. In his embrace, cocooned in his warm strength, the stress of the day recedes like the tide out to sea. At each breath, it ebbs forward and recedes backward, tempting me to lash out.

The anger permeating my soul evaporates. Lazily, I sway back and forth like I'm relaxing in a hammock. This freedom... I'd never had this with Catrina.

She'd listen, but there was always an undercurrent of annoyance. Each conversation was twisted, over examined and dredged up later when her attitude flared. But if I caught one... A shudder leaves me gasping in its wake, and my head swims.

She's like a disease. Her memories—nightmares—plague me. Though she's gone, probably halfway around the world, her touch lingers bitterly.

The bond Chris and I share shifts, snapping tightly as my mind grows chaotic. I'm slipping away from him, reeling over a past I cannot control, and he knows it. Understands it.

I wished for this—for someone like him. Had I done something in a previous life to earn this kindness?

Sighing, Chris lifts me in his arms, bridal style, and carries me back to his bedroom. I spread out on his ruined sheets and stare up at him. Bathed in the soft twinkling menagerie of green, blue and white lights from the ceiling, he's the most handsome man I've ever seen.