"Let me tell you what I wish I'd known,
When I was young and dreamed of glory
You have no control..."

- Hamilton, "History Has Its Eyes on You"

Chapter Forty-Two

The room was tense. I was surprised no one had keeled over yet from the sheer weight of it all. It pervaded the air of Greystone. There was nowhere to run. It was time to end this.

"Avery."

Cruz spoke my name calmly, but his expression was flabbergasted. I was furious and feral, and he'd never seen me like this before. I myself couldn't remember a time when I was so angry, so beside myself with the acidic boil of fury.

I was finally, finally demanding answers. The claws were out — because apparently it was the only way to get them.

"Let's sit." Cruz slowly gestured to the table. The entire room was holding its breath, waiting to see my next move. Movement was out of the question when a wild animal walked the edge, and I still toed the line. My chest was heaving, panting for breath.

But I'd let Cruz state his case. I worked in law; I respected the sanctity of trial, even if he didn't. I respected the right of defense in the face of prosecution. So I moved back and took a seat at the table, everyone's eyes still on me as I settled. For once, I was judge and jury. For once, I wasn't the one who needed to defend myself.

Julian and Simon moved first. Simon took a seat between me and Quentin, a buffer of sorts, and Julian settled next to him to help fortify it. Cruz moved slowly to the other side of the table to sit across from me, his eyes wary. His gaze drew cautiously over the tense wall of bodies across from him.

Reed was the last to settle at the table, but he didn't sit at Quentin's empty side. He crossed over and sat right next to me, just like Simon had. I was flanked by the men of Greystone, men I'd grown to trust more than the man in front of me. The one I'd trusted for years.

Cruz took a deep breath as he cast another questioning glance around the table, this time at his old friend Quentin. But Quentin didn't meet his gaze. He was only looking at me. His expression was almost distasteful accusation, but I couldn't think of anything he could accuse me of.

Making a scene, maybe? But excuse me for losing my shit when I'm stuck in this absolute shitshow of a summer. I am owed answers. I am owed weeks of my life back.

I wouldn't trade my time with Reed for anything, but it was the principle of the 'going-on-the-run' aspect of it all. There was nothing for Quentin to accuse me of; I could really only think of things he could be accused of, albeit with only speculative evidence.

"Now that we're all settled, let's take a breath. Quentin mentioned Warren Cawton was being interrogated. What did we learn? Has he given any answers?" Cruz asked, apparently deciding to start at the beginning, ignoring my outburst.

What did we learn? What did we learn? We learned a lot of shit about you and your potential felonies, Derek Cruz!

Simon was the one who cleared his throat to answer the question. Simon always moved or spoke first. Julian wasn't present for everything that'd occurred, and Reed and I were not offering responses. So, Simon did. Simon explained Warren's crumbled alibi, his contradictory statements, and the discoveries on his laptop. Simon filled the room in on Warren's odd body language, his slip-ups, and his unwavering belief in the good of his own cause. Cruz and Quentin listened intently, even leaning closer as Simon described Warren's explanation of a corrupt partnership. Simon informed them of the horrid affair involving moral and legal wrongdoings between the government and Seaplast.

I watched Cruz closely as the explanation unfolded; his own body language would either confirm my fears or create doubt in the possible convictions. I observed as he nodded along throughout. It was only when Simon began to describe Richard Cawton, his partnership with the attorney general's office, and the supposed agreement to ignore his culpability that Cruz's face shifted.

I wouldn't have described his expression as guilty, but I also wouldn't have described it as surprised. His eyes met mine as Simon finally described Warren's words of my supposed involvement in the case. One eye twitched as Simon recounted Warren's words of Cruz boasting of my abilities, and how that'd led to Warren's misunderstanding. His eyebrows drew down as Simon told him Warren had eventually pointed the finger at him when I'd denied any involvement.

The heavy silence settled again.

"Mr. Cawton will be transferred into custody for the time being. If more information is needed, we'll go through the necessary channels," Quentin spoke firmly, bursting the suffocating bubble of quiet. Reed's head whipped around.

"More information? Sure as shit, we need more information! We need to know exactly how he got into the party. And when we find out who helped him, they can tell us how they got away with it for so long," Reed said roughly. His gaze glimmered with its own feral light. Betrayal was not taken lightly by leaders or loyal souls, and Reed was both.

"Ramos should decrypt the emails shortly. We will take our next steps then. We cannot keep Mr. Cawton any longer."

"Why are you taking this so lightly?"

Reed voiced what the rest of us were thinking. He was the only one willing to.

Just like the night of the party, Quentin's ears started to turn scarlet with anger. "You follow my orders, Sterling. You do not question them. I have not taken anything lightly. You'll do well to remember who's in charge here."

"Then maybe you shouldn't be in charge."

Julian and Simon froze, but Reed's gaze was steady and unflinching as he challenged Quentin. Quentin's salt and pepper hair couldn't hide the increasingly bright flush across his ears and neck. Cruz must have noticed this as well, and interrupted before things could get out of hand.

"So, Richard Cawton and other associates were aware of the illegality of Seaplast's actions. When it got too hot, they jumped ship and orchestrated a sure downfall of Seaplast with someone in my office," Cruz recounted. "The same person in my office then ensured Richard and associates were kept clean. Sounds like a hell of a mess."

"Someone?" I asked sharply, latching on.

"Yes, Ms. Woodsen, someone." Cruz's mouth flattened as his brows drew down. I could tell he was upset. Whether he was upset I believed Warren's accusations, or upset he'd been called out, I wasn't sure. I couldn't remember the last time he'd called me 'Ms. Woodsen'. Maybe the first day I was hired. It hurt more than I cared to admit.

I took a deep breath. It was time to ask the questions I'd sat with for too long. "Did you tell anyone I had involvement with the Seaplast case? If so, why?"

"Yes, because you did," Cruz responded, frowning deeper.

"You and I both know it was minimal at most. It was a minor report that wasn't used in the case."

"Why do you think it wasn't used in the case?"

"Because it wasn't," I stammered, clearing my throat quickly to regain my composure.

Cruz looked at me sternly, and I braced, but for what, I wasn't sure.

"You reached out and created bridges with environmental agencies. When the case leads reached out, there was already a connection built with our office. They were well aware of what we were looking for. You streamlined the process and increased efficiency, knowingly or not. Bridges are everything. You know that. You wouldn't have made it this far without knowing it."

"You hired me to do cross-agency coordination full-time after that. I get why I was given the job, but why exaggerate or boast of my involvement with that specific case? Why bring it up at all? And to who? That was such a small piece of what I've done for you and your office over the years, and Warren took your words along with my job as proof I was Richard's insider."

"I've already explained why. This job isn't about your expertise. It's about who you know and who can vouch for you. I may have bragged a little, and several of the big cases came up once or twice, but that bragging was important. It made people eager for you to join their team. Ambassador Baros was relentless in trying to convince you to choose his team by the time I was done. I bragged to whoever I could about what a valuable asset I had. I wanted to help you get your foot in the door. You don't belong working in an AG's office, you belong in D.C."

Wait. He played up my involvement... to help me? He was trying to help? Wait.

Cruz continued, "That case came up naturally in discussion. With all of the environmental bills trying to be pushed through, it's a hot discussion topic. That was a good win for us. Although, it sounds like it wasn't entirely our win." Cruz sighed and leaned back. "I mentioned you because at the time you were starting to reach out for a new job. But I can't tell you everyone who was there that day who would've heard me. I don't remember Warren there, and I don't see why he would be. But someone could've told him."

"Are you saying you didn't know about the corruption at your office?" Reed asked from beside me. My head was spinning.

Had I just wrongly accused someone who'd only been trying to help?

"Yes. But I can't say I'm surprised. This type of thing isn't unheard of. Politicians are much less likely to be prosecuted one way or another," Cruz admitted.

"So, Warren made some wrong connections about Avery's involvement based on you boosting her reputation. And Warren probably included you in the photos just because you're the attorney general. He would carry anger towards you either way. Avery was the specific target," Simon commented. "But we'll need further questioning to confirm Warren's intentions."

A dark shadow crossed Quentin's face, which Simon noticed and attempted to remedy.

"Which the police can handle," Simon added hesitantly.

"Maybe I was wrong. I'm sorry if that's the case, Cruz." I faced Cruz, still stubborn and defiant as I apologized. He only looked at me with the same amount of wariness. My head swiveled to the other supposed leader in the room. "But now I want answers from you."

Quentin looked surprised. He'd always been cordial to me, and I'd always returned the professional politeness. But I had no time for gloves now. I was pissed.

I want explanations for the shit I had to go through. You know what, I'm not biting my tongue anymore.

"I want explanations for the shit I had to go through. The past few weeks of my life have been hell, and your company was supposed to solve this quickly and efficiently. Beck, Simon, and Reed have been busting their asses to solve this case and keep me safe. Hell, all of the teams were at the beginning. But you tied their hands behind their back when you split the company. And what the hell was Reed supposed to do when you called? Leave me on the side of the road so he could rush back to take on the other case?"

No one dared to say a word as I continued.

"Did you know the safehouses were compromised when you called? Reed received that phone call almost immediately after he spoke to you. Did you know Reed and I were going to be left with nowhere to go? Was that why you told him to come back? Because I was a lost cause, so you wanted him to start the next case? I'm sure Cruz was put in some other safe location — but what about me?"

Cruz's head snapped to Quentin, who looked like I'd just smacked him in the face. Of all the people in this room to challenge him, I had a feeling he'd thought I was the least likely to do it.

He'd been wrong.

Cruz shook his head. "When you called and said the safehouses were discovered, you moved Amanda and I immediately. I didn't even think to ask, I just assumed you did the same for Avery. Was that not the case? Was she not at a safehouse?"

He turned to me questioningly before looking back at Quentin. None of us were on the same page. Realizing this, I quickly filled Cruz in on the great Rolo-car-knee fiasco. I ignored his resulting shock to turn expectantly back to Quentin, who was still flushed with red as he worked to maintain his composure.

"I was aware you were on the road and not in a safehouse at the time of my call. Sterling had informed me following the accident you were traveling to another house several days away, and would be stopping at motels. But I didn't know the safehouses were compromised when I called. I was informed almost immediately after, just like he was. Since you weren't at a safehouse, you weren't as big of a concern as those that were. But yes, I will admit I didn't fully consider the fact you were left without a final destination following that breach."

"You didn't answer all of my questions. You called Reed to bring him back here. Even if you're telling the truth, and you didn't know the safehouses were compromised, you still owe me answers. What was the plan? What was I supposed to do? You didn't even mention me. Was your expectation that he would leave me at a safehouse or was I not considered at all?" I pushed.

"Bring him back? Reed was with Avery. Why would he come back without her?" Cruz demanded, repeating my words. "How is that safe?"

"I don't know if that was his plan. I don't know if he thought Reed would leave me at a safehouse or not," I admitted. "But from where I'm sitting, it looks like my safety wasn't of any concern to the company who promised it was."

Quentin wasn't saying anything now.

"Why would Reed come back?" Cruz asked again.

Reed's head tilted as his harsh gaze dug into Quentin. "Because your buddy took on another case."

"Another case? That wasn't a hypothetical Avery just mentioned?"

"No. But why don't we let the person in charge explain that."

All eyes were on Quentin. He tilted his chin higher before he answered for his actions.

"Yes. There is another case. Two teams remained on this one and two teams were diverted." He kept a steady gaze as he met his friend's darkening eyes.

"What the hell? You promised me this case would be given the full attention of Greystone!" Cruz exploded in a way I'd never seen before. "It's why I hired you! You knew I had an employee on the run, running from a stalker who'd tried to kill her! And you knew Amanda and I were in hiding. That wasn't enough for your company? Was the decades of friendship not enough to warrant your full attention? What the actual shit went through your mind when you made that decision?"

"I did what I had to," Quentin snapped. "My company is barely holding on."

"What are you talking about? Am I not paying you enough?" Cruz shook his head. "Are you seriously saying that instead of asking for help or coming to me, you took away resources when we needed them the most? How is that acceptable in your mind?"

"Barely hanging on?" Reed's sharp voice sliced the two men's conversation. There was nowhere to hide for the defensive and increasingly angry CEO. "What do you mean by that?"

"There is a lot of shit required to run this company! None of you know what I have to do to keep us afloat!"

"When did the company start struggling? We are constantly on a case. Team members can barely take a vacation because people need us. How on Earth are we not making enough to sustain this company?" Reed harshly questioned.

"Enough!" Quentin shot out of his chair. "We can discuss this in private another time. For now, Maguire is in charge of transitioning Mr. Cawton to the authorities."

Julian slowly nodded and stood, and I realized his last name must be Maguire. He left the room, presumably to follow Quentin's orders.

"Go help the analysts, Gatz." Simon took much longer to leave. His expression was troubled as it gazed over each of us, lingering on Reed. They shared a tiny nod before he ducked out of the room. Quentin noticed, his anger doubling.

"And you, Ms. Woodsen."

I looked up angrily, stubbornly, but never hesitantly. I was over hesitance and doubt. Not in times like this.

Quentin was just as unforgiving and furious as he looked down his nose at me.

"You're free to go."

I know I said the chapter couldn't be effectively split, but it felt jarring when it wasn't. I was torn, but I decided to split it. We'll see how it goes (it was also very, very long when it wasn't split).

- H