chapter thirty-five

chase

We were all experiencing the calm just before the storm on Friday morning. There was a different energy in the studio, at least amongst the people who knew about the exposé that was likely being delivered to people’s doorsteps right as Jill and Bernard wrapped up their morning report. Meghan timed the online publication for 8:00 a.m., and when that time came across my phone, a knot formed in my stomach. For her. For all of us.

“That’s it for today, folks. Thank you for starting your day with us!” Jill’s voice carried across the studio to my desk, where I wasrushing through some quick trims and edits of video clips. “I hope everyone gets out there and enjoys this warm weekend. Maybe you’ll see me at the Woodvale Comic Con?”

I’d be heading to the convention center as soon as I wrapped up here. Sean and I had a busy day ahead of us—we’d be working with our volunteers and vendors to get everything set up for the next day. That was why I was hurrying through my work, prepping files and waiting for them to upload. I’d already returned a few emails and reviewed our segment line-up for Monday. It was miraculous, really, how much I could accomplish in a short amount of time when I was in a hurry to get out.

I was just getting all of my things packed up and put away when my phone lit up with a text from Meghan.

Meghan : It’s live. I’m so afraid I’ve just made everything worse for all of us. I feel like I might throw up.

Immediately, I dropped my bag on my desk chair and headed toward the studio doors. Jill must have sensed my urgency, because she looked up from her papers at the news desk and called out, “Where’s the fire?”

I turned around with my hands in my pockets. “Meghan’s having a slight panic attack up there. I’m going to go make sure she’s okay.”

“Wait for me, then.” She removed her lapel mic and spun in her chair to get up from the desk. We walked out of the studio together, both of us keeping our eyes peeled for Silas, like he might already be on a rampage in this building somewhere.

We ran into Sarah in the hallway, carrying a coffee thermos as she greeted some late-arriving kids. Her eyes widened when she saw us. “Is today the day?”

“It’s published,” I answered.

“Oh gosh.” She peered over her shoulder like she, too, feared Silas was lurking around. Owen had agreed to talk to Meghan for the exposé, detailing the way Silas tried to twist Sarah’s arm into letting him have a spot on the podcast. That was just another example of how the man used his power to manipulate people. It was understandable why Sarah would be nervous like us. “I hope it all works out.”

“It will,” Jill said, holding her head up high.

When we got to the newspaper newsroom, it was exactly what I feared. Meghan was slumped over her desk, her head buried in her arms, with her published article up on her laptop screen. There was our headline: The News You Deserve: How Power and Profits Have Corrupted Our Coverage.

Xander was sitting just outside of her cubicle scrolling on his phone, and Graham was pacing with a cordless phone in his hand. “Oh, sweetie,” Jill said, taking in the sight of her best friend. “You should be feeling on top of the world right now.”

“She’s cycled through about ten mood swings in the last twenty minutes,” Xander muttered. “Don’t worry, the confidence will return.”

Meghan lifted her head to look at me, her face red from the position she’d been sitting in. “If something bad happens to the company and we all lose our jobs, it’s all my fault.”

I squatted beside her, placing my hand on her thigh. “Hey. Did you force any of us to put our names on that byline?”

She shook her head.

“Exactly. We let you write it because you’re the one with the talent, but we’re all in on this.” I gave her leg a squeeze. “For us to know what he’s doing to this network and silently watch it happen would have been the bigger risk.”

Meghan took a deep breath and nodded. “I know. I know you’re right.”

The newsroom phone rang, making us all jump. Graham walked away to answer it. “Phone’s been ringing off the hook all morning,” Xander said.

I nodded, rising to my feet again. “Anything from Silas yet?”

“Nope. He’s MIA.”

“Good. I hope he’s in hiding like a scared little boy,” Jill said. “Like the terrorist he is.”

Xander grinned. “Jesus, Jill.”

“Do you think people have read it yet?” Meghan lifted her head to look at her computer screen. “I wonder how they’re reacting.”

“I shared it to the Concerned Citizens of Woodvale Group from my fake troll account,” Xander said. “The comments are rolling in already.”

I watched Xander scroll through Facebook comments on his phone. “You have a troll account?”

“I enjoy getting the people riled up.”

Meghan twirled around in her chair to face him. “Is that how you’ve been racking up more views on your stories this whole time?”

Xander pulled his phone away from his face and blinked. There was her answer.

“You sneaky little bastard,” Meghan said.

“Nobody told me I couldn’t.” Xander shrugged.

“I’m telling Graham.”

“Who gets credit for the exposé in your little competition?” I nodded my head toward Meghan. “She does, right?”

“Graham said it doesn’t count,” Xander said, glancing at Meghan, “since both of our names are on the byline.”

Just then, Graham came up behind us, stretching his arm out to hand Meghan the phone. “Will you take calls for a little bit?”

She looked up at him with panicked eyes. “Where are you going?”

Graham took a slow, deep breath and put his hands in pockets. “They want me to come downstairs for an emergency meeting with the entire board.”

“Oh shit,” I blurted.

“Yeah,” he said. “Oh God, I can feel my heart beating in my butthole.”

Ignoring that weird statement, I reached out to touch his arm. “Hey. Stand your ground in there.” I swallowed, knowing plenty about Graham’s history of kissing Silas’s ass, based on what Meghan had told me. “Make sure no one here gets thrown under the bus.”

“That’s not going to happen.” He looked me in the eyes, and I knew he was telling the truth. Dropping his gaze to Meghan, he added, “If one person takes the fall over this, I’ll make sure it’s me.”

He and Meghan exchanged a nod, and then he was on his way, leaving the four of us there to sigh and exchange looks. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and pulled it out to see a message from Sean. He’d sent a photo of the exhibit hall starting to come together and wanted to know when I’d get there to help.

“I need to go,” I said, putting my hand on Meghan’s back. I hated that I had to leave when she was stressing out like this. “Sean and I have to set up. It’s going to be a long day.”

“Okay, good luck,” she said, giving me a smile that didn’t seem too forced. “I guess I probably won’t see you until tomorrow, then.”

I panicked. I had nothing but Comic Con duties from dawn until well past dark the next day. Had I agreed to cover an assignment with Meghan and forgotten it? “What’s tomorrow?”

She licked her lips, her smile getting wider. “I’m coming to your convention, silly.”

“Oh.” My mouth fell open. “You—I—tickets are sixty bucks at the door. Text me when you get there, and I’ll—”

“I already have a ticket,” she said, ruining my plan to get her in for free. I couldn’t hide my shock. “I’ve been getting your email blasts with the event schedule and everything.”

I laughed. “Okay, then I guess I’ll see you there.” I leaned down to kiss her on the temple, which she turned into a kiss on the lips with quick tilt of her head. I touched the side of her face with one hand. “Good luck today. Keep me updated.”

“I will.”

Before I left, I glanced from Xander to Jill. “You guys got this?” I nodded toward Meghan, knowing they’d both understand.

“We’ll keep your girlfriend from spiraling, Chase,” Jill assured me. The inclusion of the word girlfriend set my heart on fire. If Meghan’s best friend was saying that, it must be true.

I glanced at Xander, who rolled his eyes with a reluctant, “I’m not going anywhere.”

She was in good hands.

**

When I arrived, the convention center was already buzzing with pre-event chaos, with the massive exhibit hall coming together bit by bit. Vendors wheeled in crates of merch, a team assembled a stage, and volunteers set up tables and chairs in between lines of gaff tape on the floor. There was still so much that needed to be done, it was hard to know where to start. One of our vendors was disgruntled about being placed too far from an outlet, despite not paying extra for access to electricity. I did my best to track down an extension cord and got busy taping it to the floor to prevent guests from tripping over it.

I shuffled backward on the floor, bending over the cord, when my butt suddenly made contact with something—or someone. “Oh shit, I’m sorry,” I said as I whirled around.

It was Ethan Killian.

He let out a deep laugh, removing his sunglasses “That was actually my fault—I wasn’t paying attention.” My brain short-circuited for a few seconds. Ethan looked even cooler in person, wearing a brown leather jacket over a faded Counting Crows T-shirt. He shot me that unmistakable roguish grin he was known for and said, “Ethan Killian.”

Oops, I hadn’t noticed he was holding out his hand for me to shake. “Oh, uh—hi. I’m—?” Did I just forget my name? It took a couple seconds for it to come to me as we shook hands. “Chase. I’m one of the guys in charge. I think you’ve mostly been in communication with my… other guy.”

Ethan tucked his sunglasses into the collar of his shirt, grinning at the way I stumbled over my words. I ran my hand through my hair, doing my best to calm myself down, but my heart was pounding in my chest. I glanced around, wondering if Sean was aware Ethan was here already. “I’m sorry,” Ethan said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I’m not trying to thwart your set-up plans here. I just checked into my hotel this morning and decided to head out and explore your town. And that took all of… forty-five minutes. There’s not a lot out there.”

“Sorry,” I said, like Woodvale’s dullness was my fault.

Ethan chuckled. “It’s okay. Anyway, I just thought I’d take a gander at where you’ll have me set up tomorrow, is that okay?”

Fuck. We hadn’t even begun assembling his autograph-signing area yet. No backdrop, no table and chair, no queue ropes—all of that was still sitting in a U-Haul in the parking lot. “Actually,” I said, looking over my shoulder. “It’s going to be right around this area. I’m sorry, we don’t have that set up yet.”

“Hey, it’s cool,” he said, likely sensing my nervousness. The way he studied my face only elevated my anxiety, though—what was he trying to figure out? “I drove past the haunted Banyon Manor.”

My brain stalled again. “What?”

“It doesn’t look so ominous in the daytime, does it?”

“I’m sorry, what? How do you—?”

“Oh, I watched quite a few of your videos before I agreed to come. Had to find out a little bit about the people in charge, you know? Your YouTube channel was the first thing that popped up. Fascinating stuff.”

I had to hold myself back from repeating “what” for a third time. “You think the videos are… fascinating?”

“Oh yeah, of course,” Ethan said, “I mean, you’re a talented storyteller. The way you weave the history of the locations you investigate into present-day myths about the ghosts that supposedly haunt them? It’s compelling as hell.” He grinned with a playful twinkle in his eye, like he knew this compliment could potentially change my life. He might have even been bullshitting me just to make my day, but I didn’t care. Ethan Killian, beloved sci-fi icon, was a fan of me.

“Wow, thank you,” I said, shifting on my feet. “Most people watch our videos for Sean. He’s the main draw.”

Ethan’s brows furrowed. “Yeah, he’s definitely entertaining. I’m more of a history buff though, so I get really into the storytelling aspect.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Just don’t tell me this convention hall is haunted, or I might not show up tomorrow, alright?”

I laughed. “I think you’re good.”

He stood next to me for a moment and looked around the space, taking in all the volunteers setting up tables and hanging decorations. He gave a satisfied nod and started to turn toward the exit.

“Could I get a selfie?” I blurted. My cheeks felt warm, but I had to ask it. Who knew if I’d remember to get a picture with him in the midst of all the chaos the following day? He agreed, putting his arm around my shoulder as I pulled my phone out. In my first attempt to snap the selfie, I had the camera facing the wrong way like some kind of idiot. Ethan was patient with me, though, even suggesting we “take a silly one,” in which he gave me bunny ears.

That was going to be framed on my wall for the rest of eternity.

“Thank you,” I said, shaking his hand again. I glanced around for Sean, but he was at the far end of the room up on the stage, talking to the sound people. Before I could suggest that Ethan should introduce himself to Sean, he waved at me and ducked out of the exit.

Did that actually just happen?

I opened my photos app and scrolled.

Yeah, that just happened. Immediately, I texted the “silly” selfie to Xander, wanting to make him jealous. He’d probably get his own selfie with Ethan during his interview the next day, but I still had to gloat.

Xander: Holy shit. What’s he like in person? Was he cool?

Chase: So fucking cool.

Xander: I knew it.

Chase: Any updates on the Silas situation??

Xander: Nothing.

Xander: Actually, Graham just walked back in with a shit-eating grin. Talk later