I whip my head around to find Isobel leaning on the door, dressed in a pair of tight leather trousers and a white knitted jumper, her black hair dead straight.
“Every one of us has had to earn their place, let this be hers.”
“Shut up, Isobel,” King growls.
“She’s right,” Micha chimes in, “We have all had to do something, you want her here, she wants to be here, let her prove it.”
“And if she gets caught?” King bellows.
“Then we get her back!” Ace yells back.
I wasn’t fond of being spoken about like I wasn’t here, but I stayed quiet. I felt more than saw Isobel slide up to me. Her hand lands on my shoulder, not hard at all, a comfort. She gives me a squeeze before she leans down and whispers, “Men will always believe women need to be cared for, show them that that is not the case.”
“The drives are being delivered,” I say, only to King, “I’m the only one with access, I’ll do it and when I’m done,” I stare right at Kingston, “I’ll hand in my resignation. I’ll quit, just like you asked.”
“Eleanor.”
“Let me do it.”
“What if you get caught?” He asks, pain masking his voice.
“I won’t,” I couldn’t be sure, but I don’t show that. I don’t show my hesitation or lack of faith. It would work.
“If she gets caught, I’ve taught her how to defend herself,” Ace pipes up, straightening his shoulders, “She knows what to do.”
I didn’t, but I let him have it.
Micha and King stare at me. Micha is softer, a lot more likely to agree, but it isn’t him I need to convince, “Kingston, I promise I’ll leave the company but only if you let me do this one last thing.”
It was the least I could do. I had failed at getting the information King needed, failed at learning anything new and so this, this was my redemption.
I would be part of taking Tobias down.
Of saving Tate.
“I don’t want you to do this,” King says quietly, vulnerably.
“I know,” I reply, “But I want to.”
“You know what you need to do?”
I nod, “My own computer is linked to server T, I just need to find one linked to G and insert the drive.”
“Tell me what you’ll do if you’re caught,” He asks.
“Fight. Call you. Run.”
“No.”
“What?” My brows pull down.
“You just run, Eleanor.”
Ace opens his mouth to defend me, but I put a hand on his forearm. I understood where King was coming from. This wasn’t coming from a place of logic or rational thinking, it was coming from a place where a man lov – no – cared, deeply, for a woman.
I would tell King all he needed to hear.
“I’ll run.”