Evenfall (68 page)

"Ignorance is not an acceptable excuse," she cut him off icily. "The fact that for all inten
t
s
and
purposes you volunteered for the status puts you in an entire class of your own. It is even more pathetic that you are in this situation without it being a necessity. If you had put more faith in your ability to negotiate through words rather than in bed, neither of us would be in this embarrassing predicament. Or perhaps you used his alleged recalcitrance as an excuse to engage in acts with the first known homosexual you encountered?"

Boyd's mouth opened and then closed. He shook his head, his fingers tightening on the chair. "It wasn't like that--"

"Because from my perspective," she continued in a hard tone over his protestations, "you wasted no time in establishing yourself as a promiscuous homosexual embarrassment to stain my record. And as we are, unfortunately, related by blood, every one of your incompetent actions is reflected on me." Her eyes narrowed. "A fact which I am steadily growing to detest."

"I was just trying to succeed in the mission," Boyd said, the words seeming so destined to failure once he spoke them. "I didn't want to disappoint you."

Vivienne actually let out a scoff at that. "If that is the case, your ability to achieve the exact opposite of your goal is astounding." She let the silence cut into him a second longer before she narrowed her eyes and sat back in her chair, her hands intertwining in her lap. "As I understand it, Jeffrey Styles is in the process of continuing to decipher the information, yes?"

Boyd nodded silently.

"Very well. That does imply that the information is legitimate. It is possible the debacle will end with a small measure of success. However, understand this much: you have officially been given the designation of a homosexual valentine operative."

Boyd's stomach sunk at that but he couldn't say he was surprised. He nodded again, this time in acknowledgment.

"As you were capable of acquiring information that we assume to be useful, it implies that your skills in that department are adequate." Her face took on an unpleasant quality, as if she did not wish to think about this but felt compelled to mention it regardless.

"However, with this new talent in your repertoire," her tone made it seem insulting, "I expect you to do what you must in order to be more than adequate in the future. Anything less than perfect success in future endeavors will only cause a humiliating renewal of questions. Should you refuse or fail, you will jeopardize your job, I will be held accountable for the fact that you are now apparently too good to do any dirty work, and it will only resurrect this debacle. If you had been intelligent enough to avoid this issue in the first place we would not be having this conversation. However you remain as incompetent as you have been for much of your life, and now I must do damage control."

She gave him a hard stare. "Do you understand?"

Boyd's mouth was dry and he nodded again. He didn't even bother trying to ask if there was a way to remove the designation. He knew there wasn't one without asking, and he knew it would only anger her more if he said anything about it.

He couldn't even be surprised by the fact that his mother was in essence telling him to be a better prostitute than the others. Her sense of duty to work above all else had been one of the few constants of hers in his life, and he knew better than to question it. He felt the sense of hopelessness that had been plaguing him before grow even stronger.

There was a pause as she regarded him coldly. "And should the topic arise, I expect that you will make it clear that it is your own degraded values that caused you to make that choice. I want nothing to do with your promiscuity in the rumors, do you understand me? I have already suffered enough fall out through no fault of mine. It is not my fault you grew up to be a homosexual, and equally not my fault that you so easily sleep with any male who for whatever godforsaken reason seems interested in you. It is especially not my fault that in such cases you apparently cannot keep the knowledge to yourself."

Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him. "Are you having intercourse with that creature of a partner?"

"What?" Boyd asked, taken off guard by the question. "No. Why would you--"

"I suggest you keep it that way," she said flatly. "Your reputation is poor enough without adding that abomination to your record." She didn't let him comment on that. She sat up straighter and regarded him with a piercing stare.

"Now. Onto your latest disaster. Do not attempt to lie so blatantly to me as you did to General Carhart. I am well aware that the fault is yours and yours alone for the failure of that mission."

When she saw his expression, her eyebrows ticked up. "Do not underestimate me, child. It is my job to be informed. I have an extensive network of contacts and have access to more media outlets than you could imagine
.
After reviewing the varied reports, I am still at a loss as to your motivation. What on Earth possessed you to believe you could enter in such a manner? You had adequate time to formulate a plan. What happened?"

When Boyd did not answer immediately, not certain what to say, her eyes narrowed and a knowing look crossed her face. "Ah. I see."

"What?" Boyd asked suspiciously when she did not continue.

"You were feeling childish again, no doubt," she told him dismissively. "Did you feel the need to repeat the melodrama from a few years ago? Are you truly so pathetic that suicidal tendencies are your only means of coping with anything that does not go your way?" Her lips tightened. "I cannot believe your incompetence. If you are so intent on dying, be more efficient about it. Your behavior thus far is shameful and unacceptable."

Boyd actually felt the world go still at her words. He stared at her, shocked, and didn't know how to react. Her words echoed Sin's so closely that he felt his stomach clench. Knowing Sin and his mother felt the same way about him hurt far more than he would have anticipated.

She stared at him for one long, hard moment before she shook her head and looked away. "I am finished with this conversation. I expect marked improvement from you in the future. If you disappoint me, I expect to see you back in my office. You are quickly becoming the greatest weakness of mine in this agency and I will not have you bring me down after the time it took for me to reach this position."

Her tone was dead serious when she continued. "The Agency does not have time to deal with children and their incompetence and neither do I. Be thankful that I care enough about my reputation to sometimes protect yours."

She didn't wait for him to respond before she said flatly, "Dismissed."

Boyd stood and walked to the door, but when his fingers curled around the door handle he couldn't make himself walk out. He had a tenuous hold on his sense of self-worth, and maybe it was the need to feel like he had done one right thing some time in his life that made him turn back and look at her.

"Do you...?"

So many questions were rolled into those two charged words. Sentences he could not bring himself to finish.
Do you regret having me? Do you hate me? Do you ever remember loving me? Do you wish I never existed? Do you truly wish I'd die?

His eyes burned at the thought of those questions; at the thought of hearing the answers he was afraid he would receive. His heart pounded and he felt the emotions intensify within him against his wishes.

He wanted her to care for him
.
He wanted to not disappoint her. He wanted her to look at him with approval. He wanted her voice to soften. He wanted her to look at him like he was human and not something caught beneath her shoe.

He wanted-- needed-- something to cling to in order to feel like this wasn't all hopeless. To feel like someone thought he was still worthwhile, on some minute level. That someone he cared about deeply could still see something in him worth loving.

"Have you ever once been proud of me?" The question came out more hesitant than he'd intended. His heart felt like it clenched now that the words were out in the open.

But if Vivienne noticed the vulnerability in him at that moment, she didn't let it show. She looked up at him, her expression unimpressed. "I have no time for your frivolity," she said flatly. "Leave my office at once. You have been dismissed."

He felt like she'd slapped him in the face again. He leaned back, as if to pull away from a physical attack, and he looked away with a subdued nod. When he turned and walked out, he felt like he was shutting the door on a lifeline.

He couldn't keep the same facade of complete confidence and a disregard of everything around him when he walked away. He felt like the world had stopped moving properly around him. The scathing anger and disgust he'd been seeing in too many expressions lately made him feel like there was no longer a point to any of it.

Depression overwhelmed him. He felt completely hopeless. Everyone who mattered to him hated him, or would grow to hate him when they knew what he'd done. When they understood about Alexis. He'd never asked for much in his life, although he'd been lucky enough to be born to a family that at least had the money to provide for him.

All he'd ever wanted, all he'd ever based his self-worth on, was being accepted by someone. Being wanted by someone. He'd wanted his mother to love him; he'd wanted his father to be proud; he'd wanted to live with Lou for the rest of his life.

But everything kept falling apart around him.

He'd survived something when he shouldn't have years ago and maybe now it was all catching up to him. If someone had to die that day, it should have been him, not Lou. It would have been better for everyone. He wouldn't have spent that agonizing time struggling through the verge of insanity and coming out deadened only to have it all be pulled away from him bit by bit-- Giving him hope at first that he'd found something, someone, to accept him, only for it all to be ripped away and thrown in his face.

Sin, his mother, the others on compound... They all hated him; they all wanted to see him broken down until there was nothing left. And soon, he thought as the pain welled and clogged his throat, they would get their wish. Wasn't that what he deserved anyway? After the things he'd done; after the mistakes he'd made-- he deserved everything that came his way.

He deserved to suffer and he deserved to die.

At the thought, he realized he may have a solution. He had to write that report within the hour. If he told the truth-- if he said that he'd sabotaged the mission on his own, and he somehow made it seem like he'd forced the others to cover for him, maybe he could make everyone happy. The Agency would terminate him and no one else would blamed. It would look bad for his mother that her son had messed up on a mission so bad he needed to be killed, but people would forget over time. Sin could be reassigned someone else, Adam Blake probably, and he would be happier.

Everyone would be better off when he was gone.

He turned and walked toward the fourteenth level. The huge reference library had become his safe haven over the past few months, which helped in this case when he felt so discouraged and upset.

When he walked inside, he was relieved to find it empty. He headed immediately for his preferred computer toward the back and dropped into a chair. When he was confronted with the log in screen, he realized what he was about to do. His only concern was that he write this properly so he took the blame for everything. So no one else would receive even a second of repercussion.

He stared at the screen, trying to think well enough to formulate what he would say. But he couldn't think of a way to believably explain away how everyone had covered for him in the meeting. He leaned forward, his hands digging in his hair as he dropped his head down.

Why couldn't he even do this right? Why was he so hopeless at everything? Why was someone like him who was so painfully fucking stupid still alive?

His breath felt shallow and echoing in his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut. Frustration and hopelessness flared within him and he pushed himself up. He walked away from the computer and sat down at a table. He dropped his head into his hands again, this time trying to make his mind work. Trying to think so he could figure out what to write.

He hadn't been there long before the door opened again behind him and footsteps moved into the room. Boyd felt so miserable that he didn't even bother to look at the newcomer. He was still slouched at the table when a familiar voice rang out.

"Well look who's here. The little blond bitch who doesn't know when to mind his own business."

Boyd glanced over. He couldn't even be surprised by Harry's appearance. None of it mattered. Maybe it was karmic retribution anyway. He turned away from Harry and kept his head in his hands.

Footsteps could be heard crossing the floor before Harry moved around the table and came closer to Boyd. He leaned in, grabbing Boyd's chin to turn his face to the side. He looked down at Boyd with narrowed, hateful eyes.
"Thanks to you, my pay has been docked for months. The bitch in payroll just says to me, it's my own problem for getting temporarily demoted. She says, I shouldn't have gotten myself reported."

Boyd jerked his head away, not having the patience to deal with Harry interrupting his solitude. "Maybe you shouldn't have been a pervert in the first place," he said, uncaring. "That would have probably helped you more."

Harry's lips curled up and he leaned in further, running his hand up Boyd's cheek before twining his fingers in long strands of blond hair. He gripped them and yanked Boyd closer. "Do you ever think that maybe your partner... wants it? Maybe that's why he shows off for me. He knows it turns me on when those cocksucking lips start talking all of that trash."

Anger shot through Boyd on Sin's behalf as his expression twisted in disgust. "He doesn't want anything to do with you, you piece of shit," he sneered caustically. "You're a pathetic fuck who can't help seeing what he wants in the world even when it's a complete lie, because no one in their right mind would ever want to be near you." He reached up to disentangle Harry's hand from his hair.