30
What does she want to say to him? Why does she want to meet? The fascination with her every move, every thought hooks him like a barb, reels him in. How does that brilliant mind work? Is she planning a counter-blackmail?
She asked to meet at the Tucson airport. Does that mean she’s headed out of town? If she is, he’ll let her go. Let her disappear into hiding again, bearing the suspicion for his crime. Perhaps she just wants to let him know she knows.
Or maybe she wants to kill him.
No. he doesn’t think Catgirl’s a murderer. She has principles. Very high moral standards. He remembers long discussions they had about right and wrong, which he later realized must have been colored by her parents’ vigilante thieving.
So, what does she want with him?
Damn. The temptation to meet with her overrides reason. The need to know, to see the beautiful hacker one last time infiltrates his being, sucking him down the rabbit hole of bad decisions.
He has a gun. He’ll bring it to the meeting, in case she tries anything. And he won’t notify anyone-not the FBI or Mr. X just yet.
Better to figure out her game first, then make a decision about how to react.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.
~.~
Jackson
Work is still a public relations nightmare. I’m on teleconference with the board most of the day, and many of them are calling for my resignation. Our stock price is down, and there are threats of lawsuits.
All I can think is fuck them all.
I can’t even make myself give a shit about SeCure’s stock price or what I’d do if the board fires me. My mind is only focused on one thing. Figuring out who framed Kylie.
Apart from me, I try to remember who from SeCure knew Catgirl hacked us eight years ago. Luis. A few members of the infosec team at the time. Who were they? Stu?
No, he didn’t work here then. Why did he pop into my head, though?
I remember Kylie’s interview. How eager he was to get her hired. At the time. I’d thought it had to do with her beauty, the Batgirl tits.
But what if Stu was the one who orchestrated her hire? He’d be capable of writing the code that infected our system-he’s a damn good programmer and probably another hacker-turned-infosec professional.
A prickle runs up the back of my neck, and I stand. I need to have a word with him.
As if I’ve conjured him with my thoughts, I catch sight of his slouchy figure out my window, walking to his car. The prickly feeling hasn’t gone away, so I head for the door and take the stairs down to the parking lot at shifter speed. His car pulls out the gates. I jog to my Range Rover and climb in. It’s all I can do not to screech the tires following him, but good sense wins out, and I keep a distance. He drives for a long time. This isn’t a quick lunch date. It’s a forty-five minute drive to the south side of downtown.
Though I have nothing to go on, my gut tells me to keep following.
He pulls into the Park ‘n Save at the Tucson airport and parks near a shade structure. Rolls down his window like he’s about to make a drug deal. My instincts flare into high alert. This is not normal. Whatever he’s doing is totally suspect.
I hang back by a few cars, park a distance from him, and stay in my car. He also stays in his car. A growl rumbles in my throat as my wolf prepares for danger.
I stop cold, though, when a familiar motorcycle zooms in front of me and pulls up alongside his car, the long-legged brunette looking way too good on Sam’s motorcycle. What in the fuck is Kylie doing here?
Pain pushes through my heart like a nail in a coffin. Punctures straight through to the other side and leaves me wheezing for breath.
Betrayed.
She’s been working with Stu all along? A great roaring starts up in my ears, deafens me. My body goes numb, freezing cold as it all clicks into place. She and Stu are working together on this. I was so stupid to believe all her lies. A known thief, a known hacker, I actually saw her install the malware into my system, and I didn’t realize I was being played? She took me by the balls.
What in the hell is wrong with me? I was thinking with my dick, not my brain, that’s what. I let a pair of sexy legs and Batgirl tits lead me around by the nose. What a fucking idiot.
I watch, like a dead man, as she pulls off her helmet and dismounts from the bike. She leans back against it, folding her arms across the same breasts I worshipped only last night.
I can’t tell what they’re saying. Even if my wolf hearing could detect their voices through the window, the rushing in my ears keeps me from being able to concentrate.
I turn weak, like she’s wrapped me up in silver chains-a werewolf’s kryptonite. Power simply drains from the soles of my feet, leaks beneath the car like blood.
The betrayal coats my mouth, puts a red filter over my vision. Darkness falls across everything-the peachy future with Kylie I’d been trying way too hard to figure out. It blackens the time we spent together, muddies my trust in my own instincts.
Like I’m that teen again, covered in my stepfather’s blood, I go numb. Just shut off.
Kylie
“You going to shoot me with that thing?” I ask, peering in at Stu through his open car window.
He has a gun in his pocket pointed at me. He’s pale, sweat beading his forehead. “What do you want, Catgirl?”
“My grandmother. Where is she?”
Something that resembles sympathy flickers over his face. “Right. They took your grandmother. I’m sorry, I don’t know.” He rubs his forehead with the hand not holding the gun. “I had no idea they would do something like that.”
A sick twist wrenches my stomach. “Who is they?”
He shrugs like we’re out to coffee discussing code or what we think about the boss. “Guy calls himself Mr. X. That’s all I know.”
My hands turn clammy, and I sway on my feet. “You just took down the country’s top credit card security company working for a man named Mr. X? Have you met this guy?”
A flash of misgiving passes over Stu’s face before he hides it. “We’ve been in communication for over a year. He’s placed a good faith down payment in my offshore account.”
“Offshore account, hm?”
“It’s hack proof, Catgirl.”
I’ll see about that. I cut him with my most scornful glance. “You must be pretty proud of yourself, framing me to make yourself rich.”
Again, a flicker of regret seems to pass over his face. “Get out of town, Catgirl. You can still leave. They’ll never find you. You’re as hack proof as they come. That’s one of the reasons I picked you. You won’t be any worse off than you were before. Hiding and assuming new identities is what you do best.”
I must be crazy because I actually see his logic. “I need to know where my grandmother is.”
“I’m sorry. I really don’t know, but… I wouldn’t wait around.” Again, he looks almost sorry for me. “Get out of town, while you can.”
I eye his gun. It was crazy of me to come here unarmed, but I just had to look him in the face and hear him say for himself what he’s done. He’s telling me my grandmother is dead. My hands start shaking-whether from rage or shock, I’m not sure. Either way, there’s nothing I can do now. Not when Stu has a gun and I’m completely unarmed. Besides, physical violence has never been my way. I’ve always been the cyber attack sort. If he thinks his money will sit quietly in his offshore account, he’s fucking delusional.
I nod, once. “Okay.”
Relief flickers over his face. “Okay? You’ll leave town?”
I shrug. “What choice do I have?”
“Good.” He rolls up his window, and I watch as he puts the car in gear and coasts away. I want to throw Sam’s helmet through his back window, chase after the car and pull him out of it, stand on his throat until he tells me where to find Meme, but I’m helpless. Just like when I watched my father murdered and couldn’t do a thing to save him. Didn’t do a thing to save him.
I’ve always wondered if things would be different if I’d gone after his partner that night instead of hiding like a terrified child. He’d already stabbed my father, but what if I’d found a way to kill him? Would that have been the honorable thing to do? Instead of hiding and going after him the sneaky way? The shameful way?
Now, I’m doing the same thing. Letting Stu drive away after basically admitting Meme’s been killed.
The sound of a car door slamming nearby makes me jerk my head up. My throat closes when I see the figure storming toward me, dark and furious.
Jackson.
His huge hand shoots out and grips me by the throat.
“Jackson,” I choke, real fear shooting through me. His eyes are ice-blue, inhuman.
As if he catches the fear, something flickers in his expression. The fury slips away, replaced by something far more raw and broken.
“So.” He brings his face right up to mine. “You’ve been working with Stu all along. Played me for a fool, didn’t you?”
“No,” I gasp. “You have it wrong. I came-”
“Shut up.” He gives me a little shake. With my weight suspended by the column of my neck, he pulls me to my tiptoes. “All I have to do is squeeze to crush your throat.” There’s a sharp menace to his voice I’ve never heard before. It terrifies me. “Or snap to break your neck.” I remember this is the man who lost control of his wolf and killed his stepfather with an ax. Who hunts and runs wild on the mountain. He’s no stranger to violence. “Which would you prefer?”
“No.” It’s hard to speak around the fingers partially cutting off my air, around the crushing panic, because strangulation feels a lot like claustrophobia.
Tears spike, drip out the corners of my eyes.
His nostrils flare, and he releases me abruptly, a look of horror on his face. He shoves his fingers through his hair. “Get out of here. Get out of my sight before I harm you. You aren’t safe with me.”
“I’m not working with Stu,” I rasp, my throat sore from his fingers.
He lunges for me again, covering my mouth with his hand. “No more lies from that pretty little mouth. No more. Just. Leave.
He takes my helmet from my hands and puts it over my head, buckles it even. He tugs the chinstrap forward and stamps his lips over mine.
I moan into his mouth, hope flaring that he is still with me, that he will listen, but he makes a broken sound and, when he pulls away, he doesn’t even look at me.
A goodbye kiss.
Fuck.
That’s what it was. It guts me.
He stalks away without another word.
I open my mouth to call after him, to explain, but tears choke my voice, followed closely by anger designed to protect against the kind of injury I sustained.
Heartbreak.
He should have let me explain. Why would he give me the benefit of the doubt all along and then choose now to believe I’m against him? Now, when I’m already hopelessly in love with him? Now, when I can no sooner walk away from him than I can from Meme?
Tears streaking my cheeks, I throw a leg over Sam’s motorcycle and take off. I have nowhere to go, no leads to follow. Stu was right. I should get out of town while I still can.
Why, then, would I rather cut off my own arm?