The Billionaire's Assistant

Chapter 87

There was more truth to Jove's words than Kat had initially realized, and as she hit the city's streets she felt almost drunken, unsteady on her feet and easily distracted by the booming pain in her skull. She probably did have a concussion, a pretty bad one at that.

She blinked hard, steadying herself, then set off in an awkward run in broad daylight, the sun beaming against the sidewalk too much for her and causing her to stumble into several people as she attempted to propel herself more quickly.

She stopped, leaned against a building, and dry heaved, her body's complete lack of food and water working sickly wretches from the bottom of her stomach. Unable to take even a moment, she began to run again, fighting off the thoughts that followed.

She reached the den, retching but producing nothing directly outside of the door, then pounding on it wildly, each of her knocks affecting her as if she'd driven her fists into her own skull instead of the door.

It was flung open, and Kat found herself dragged inside, into the cool and the quiet of air damp with tears. The low murmur of the police scanner played in the background, and Kat realized she was too late, that the news had already been delivered. Andy had pulled her in, a fierce expression on her face that took Kat a moment to discern as her eyes adjusted to the light.

"Andy," Kat said nonsensically.

She looked around to see the room in complete darkness, the window covered, the candles all blown out. Emma lay on the nearest couch, her small body shaking with sobs as Jack sat next to her, ineffectually patting her back. Brent sat on the couch opposite them, his expression blank, his eyes a million miles away.

None of them looked up when she entered, and Kat suddenly felt cold, felt like dry heaving again.

"What the fuck are you doing here," Andy spat.

Kat stepped back.

"Andy you, what did you do?" she asked helplessly.

Andy's face darkened to midnight.

"What did I do?" she repeated. "What did you do? What have you done?"

"Andy I," Kat stammered, at a loss. "Andy, I told you it wouldn't work."

"And I was supposed to believe that? Everything that's come out of your mouth since you met him has been a lie, all you do is lie."

"Andy stop," said Kat, lifting her hands to protect herself against the torrent of accusations.

"You lied about everything! You were here, pretending you were into Jack while you were actually sleeping with Tillibenton, taking trips with him, completely abandoning our plan to cosplay as a rich girlfriend."

"No," Kat cried. "No, I-"

"And you tried to stop us. You were sabotaging us, I didn't realize it till I found out about the elevator in his office."

Kat's face fell.

"You thought I didn't see that, huh? I read all the same schematics you did. So why didn't you tell us about it Kat. How am I supposed to believe anything you say when you lie like this? You killed Conner, it's your fault he's dead."

Emma wailed at the mention of Conner's name and Brent turned to look at Kat and Andy, fixing them both with a stare so murderous Kat didn't recognize him while looking directly into his face.

"Make her leave," Brent commanded flatly, his voice as dark and unrecognizable as his face.

"Go," said Andy, nodding towards the door. "And don't come back."

"Andy, Andy no," said Kat. "No. You don't understand, I would never betray you, I'm on your side, I swear.

She winced, the pain in her head crescendoing and falling again.

"I never did anything against you, never. I only told you the badges wouldn't work because they wouldn't, I knew they wouldn't and I told you the truth, I wouldn't lie about that."

"So you didn't fall for him?" Andy asked accusatorily. "You don't love him? You didn't choose him over us, over Conner?"

Kat shook her head vehemently each turn making bright new pain bloom over her ears.

"He's not a bad guy," Kat insisted quietly, unable to stop herself from saying all the wrong things. "He said he was gonna cut back environmentally, I was gonna tell you guys but,"

"But what," Andy interjected. "You'd have to confess it was pillow talk?"

"Andy I, I thought you understood, I"

"I don't understand shit," said Andy.

Her glower broke, tears exploding from her as if she'd been injured, her face bright red and her breathing ragged, desperate.

"I understand my brother is dead, that's what I understand. My baby brother is,"

She took a step backwards as if afraid, as if Kat had killed Conner with her bare hands.

"Andy, it's not my fault, I'm so so sorry but it's not my fault, it's-"

Kat stopped, unwilling to continue her sentence.

"What?" Andy screamed, still backing away. "Say it! Say what you wanna say, say it!

Her face was a mess of snot and agony, and Jack was now standing to grip her shoulder, to ensure she didn't stumble and to lead her to a safe place to meltdown.

"Say it's my fault," she screamed, her voice reaching a pitch that made Kat discover new depths of the word pain. "Say it's my fault, just like the first time, just like Michael."

Jack was fighting her down now, tucking her limbs inwards so that the woman, shaking with rage and pain, didn't hurt herself as she began to flail, to fight Jack, herself, anyone that she could reach. Andy was yelling nonsensically now, animal utterances instead of words, and Emma began to cry harder, the shake of her shoulders renewed.

"He needs to die," Andy screamed, her wild eyes locked on Kat as she fought Jack for freedom. "He needs to die. He needs to pay, he's gonna,"

Her words were lost among her sobs, and Brent stood, the expression on his face so imbued with hatred that Kat took another step backwards.

"Kat, you need to go," said Jack urgently, the message in his tone that he wasn't certain he could fight Brent off.

She stayed where she was, stock still and unmoving.

"Emma," she tried gently, addressing the woman who hadn't acknowledged her presence since she'd entered the room.

Emma looked up at her, her face ruddy with tears.

"I've never been so wrong about a person," she said quietly, and Kat felt as if she'd been stabbed, the knife quickly removed to ensure she lost as much blood as possible.

Brent was stepping closer now, his hands balled into tight fists.

"Kat, go," said Jack, fixing her with a stern look. "You need to go, now."

He looked down.

"I'm sorry."

For some reason, of everything she'd heard that day, Jack's apology was what sent her over the edge and she burst into sobs, each one hurting her aching head more than the last. She turned, grabbed the door handle, and fled into the brightness of the day, tears still streaming down her face.