Page 57 of His Dark Vices

Not anymore.

Without a look back, I say goodbye.

CHAPTER 21

Sam

The new year started off with a hell of a bang. I'm still fucking reeling. Wish I could blame anyone but myself, but the blame is all mine. That's all anyone can tell me since shit hit the fan.

Outwardly, the company is doing pretty well, all things considered. When an outside source—like a journalist—uncovers a privacy vulnerability, it's usually pretty bad. But Bree went above and beyond with her kind coverage, something she didn't need to do. A lingering sentiment for a device she'd grown attached to?

Who can say.

I know it wasn't out of consideration for me, though.

In her article, Bree shared an interesting turn of events, all false: While working on the last update we pushed through for Companion, I realized that our software was structured poorly. Any employee, should they choose to, could look into any user's data, which wasn't anonymized in any way. There was no evidence that such a serious violation of privacy had beencommitted, but the possibility was worrying nonetheless. That's why I not only reached out to a journalist myself to admit the mistake, but I was also working around the clock to protect our users' data.

The article stressed that no data had leaked and that there was nothing for customers to do. In fact, it praised me for admitting the grave mistake and owning up to it. That hasn't stopped people from calling customer service to ask paranoid questions.

But that's not the problem.

I walked into a shitstorm the morning the article was released, having no idea Bree fabricated quotes from me. I had to take ownership of a problem I didn't even know existed. If there was a privacy issue, why the fuck hadn't I mentioned it to anyone in the company before going public?

Yeah, that would have been a good idea.

If I wasn't so enmeshed in Companion's software—and prominently mentioned by name in the article—they would have let me go that same morning. They said as much, over and over.

I took the heat. I'm still taking the heat.

And we're working out solutions, but it's taking long nights, with the bulk of the work falling in my lap. It's my special project. Every morning, I hold a meeting to update the team on my progress.

It's coming slowly and painfully.

It doesn't help that Bree promised I'd give a press release as soon as possible, announcing the solution we've implemented.

All without talking to me.

I don't hold it against her. I can't.

No, at the end of another long day, I find myself repeating a familiar path. Exhausted, I don't go home to the penthouse, and I don't go to the loft. I go to the only place where I can feel close to her again. I've been coming here ever since I steppedout of the shower to find her gone—with my nightstand drawer standing wide open, the panties I've taken from her on full display.

That's when I knew I wouldn't see her again. I knew it was all too much for her to bear. Around every turn, there was something darker for her to find out. Our past is ugly, tainted.

I thought she could look past it if I showed her it could all be worth it, that who we are now could justify it in some way.

Pretty fucking stupid reasoning.

I push my legs to keep taking me the distance that a car should have covered. By the end of it, after resting in the clearing for a little while, my body is begging for sleep. Yeah, I'm already exhausted, but pushing myself beyond my limits is the only thing that can put me to sleep. Otherwise, I'm up all night, berating myself for losing Bree.

I cross the college campus as the sun is starting to set, walking through the quad to the edge of the forest. I can usually only barely make out the secret path we used to share—the snow conceals it just as quickly as I carve it out again.

But this time, there's a set of footsteps inviting me in, paving the way. My heart starts beating faster, hope leaping in me like a lick of flame. I don't dare let that hope take control. It's too painful to consider. But I walk along the path faster, crunching through the snow. Branches slap into my arms. I'm too focused on setting eyes on the clearing to dodge them like I usually do.

And sure enough, there's a figure there, right in the middle, its back to me. Years ago, when we were in college, I would have stopped here within the trees, allowing myself to stay concealed. But what if I had walked out? What if I had talked to Bree again, apologized for being a jerk?

Where would we be now?

I don't hesitate this time. I step noisily out of the forest, my eyes fixed on the feminine figure. Her hair pokes out of herbeanie, little flakes of snow caught in it, copper little curls I couldn't ever forget. And when she turns around, the sight of her makes me suck in a cold breath.

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