Bad Decisions

•TWELVE•

She spent the entirety of the rest of her day pacing around her apartment, waiting for Noah to show up, but by nine at night, he hadn't appeared. She remotely logged into her work computer via her laptop earlier in the day, just to monitor things, emails and other correspondence, and the live video feed of all the clinics with their staff and patients.

She eventually moved on to attempting to find records of the original test subject, SAL. She had been blocked out of most stuff, which she hated because she was supposed to have access to everything, but what she did find had been shocking, to say the least.

The earliest inception of the neural links had been used to help her view her happy memories to overcome her trauma, but something had happened during one of link ups. There was no information as to what happened, or if this caused her to die, and no matter how much she dug, she couldn't find the information.

By the time midnight had rolled around, she had drunk a half bottle of wine, and fell asleep on her couch, which was so outside the norm for her. But it allowed her to hear the jiggle of a key in her lock, and she rolled off the couch, and yanked a gun out from under her coffee table, and aimed it at the front door.

Layton was onto her second guessings, her hesitation to kill Noah, the growing disillusionment within her, and it was now only a matter of time before a new assassin was on their way to eliminate her.

"It's only me," Noah said as he let himself in, and Aurora thought again about pulling the trigger, but set her gun down on the coffee table instead. He had kicked his shoes off at the front door, and padded into the living room. "I didn't think you would mind I took a copy of your key."

"You presume too much," she said, rising to sit on her couch again.

"I got your note," he said, rounding the couch to look down at her, at the light blue silk shorts she wore, the matching crop top camisole, and her jersey knit robe.

"Daniel Riker works with you," she said, and Noah tilted his head to the side.

"He does," he answered honestly. "He lets us remote into the feed at the clinics, like you do. We have a ghost account set up."

"Is that how you get all your information? Through that? Or through someone or something else?" Aurora asked as she stood from the couch and picked up her wine glass and wine bottle. She went to the kitchen to set it all on the counter, where she spied the bouquet of roses.

"Is that why you asked me to come back? To play twenty one questions, and not use my help for another mind blowing orgasm?"

Aurora glared at him over her shoulder. "Be serious."

"I am always serious," he replied, following after her into the kitchen to stand with the island between them.

"You overestimate your skills in bed," Aurora said coyly. Noah only tucked his hand over his chest, then dropped his hands to pull the vase of roses over to him,

"You wound me," he said, lifting his long fingered, tattooed hand to fiddle with the blooms he had given her. He was silent for a moment before he answered her, looking at the roses. "We get a lot of information in a few different ways. The camera feeds, yes. Daniel. We had an informant that worked in research once, and we have a few security guards that you have hired."

Aurora turned to face him. "I have personally vetted every single guard," she said, and then paused as Noah arched an eyebrow at her.

"That Daniel Riker has given you," he added.

She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. There was no way she was that fucking dense, yet here she was, doubting all she had done with the company. She dropped her hand, and leaned her elbows onto the counter. She changed the subject because she did not want to continue to think about her failure in hiring security guards at the clinics. They looked perfect on paper, though, and that's what had mattered to her. She supposed that was why though; they were completely fabricated by Daniel to make them look the best to her. She took a deep breath, and caught Noah's eyes.