Blast From The Past 3 by Faith Winslow Page A

familiar face.
    “What the hell’s going on?” J.R. asked, panting a bit. I’d heard him pant earlier, but, this time, it was a little different. Those short, stuttered breaths earlier came from pleasure, while these came from somewhere else.
    “You shouldn’t be here, J.R.,” I said, trying to pull away from him.
    But J.R. wouldn’t let go—and he wouldn’t drop the topic.
    “Well, I am here,” he said with his hand still wrapped around my arm. “And you’re going to tell me why .”
    I thought for a moment. I still didn’t want to tell J.R. about Tommy. I still wanted to take care of this part of things myself. But the fact remained that J.R. was right there, in front of me, and I knew that nothing but an explanation would make him budge.
    “Tommy,” I said quite simply, at a loss for more words.
    “What?” J.R. asked, releasing his grip. “We just made love, and you kicked me out so you could come see another man?”
    I realized then that my simple statement might have complicated things a bit and, reluctantly, went on.
    “That guy—that picture—you saw on my laptop,” I said, reaching my hand out to take J.R.’s hand into mine. I missed the feeling of him touching me and needed to recover for the loss. “That guy… That’s Tommy Ferguson, my ex-boyfriend from college.”
    I felt J.R.’s hand squeeze mine and saw a look of concern flush across his face. “But,” he said, “that’s the guy from the event… Gretchen’s boyfriend, the one who caused all the trouble. You mean… You mean, he was your ex?”
    “Yes,” I said. “I looked him up online and did some more research after we found out he operated that MUDD with Gretchen all those years ago. We ended up meeting for drinks—nothing happened though, and I thought nothing came of it. He admitted that he’d run the MUDD with her, but he said nothing else. I didn’t know until tonight—when you and I were in the kitchen—that Tommy and Gretchen shared more of a past. I came here to confront him about it and find out what’s really up.”
    J.R. shook his head and looked up to the sky. Perhaps he was waiting for God—or the universe—to give him some guidance and tell him what to do. And, perhaps that guidance came.
    “Looks like there’s a lot more going on here than we know,” J.R. finally said. “It could be something, or it could be nothing, but it’s not anything we should ignore, and one thing’s for certain… If you run in there and confront Tommy, he’ll get scared and go cold. Do you really expect him to come clean and tell you the truth—especially if he is somehow involved?”
    I hated to admit it, but J.R. had a point, and I hadn’t even considered it until this point. I guess I was still thinking that Tommy owed me something and that, if I came here, he’d fess up and give me the truth I deserved. But, he hadn’t been honest with me before, so why on earth would I expect him to be now, especially, as J.R. had noted, if he was somehow involved. All I’d get from him was more lies, and, quite possibly, much worse. If this went as deep as some things in the tech world go, I could end up drugged, dead, and left in a ditch on the side of the road.
    I know that might sound a bit extreme, but, bear in mind, we’re talking about applications that are worth millions upon millions of dollars here, and taking one human life is a small price for some people to pay for the amount of money they’d get in return. Up until this point in my life, I would’ve never expected Tommy was the type of person who’d be involved in such a trade—but, if the past few hours, and days, had proved anything, it was that, sometimes, whatever I expected was not at all the case.
    “If we really want to find out what happened, our best bet is to lay low,” J.R. continued. “Act like you never made the connection and never discovered his affiliation with Gigi. As far as he knows, you’re still on my shit list and are still an