by Snow, Nicole
“Yeah. It's true.” Sloan shakes his head sadly. “I never wanted you to know, Bud. Never, ever. Never wanted Ben to know the kind of man his real father was. And I knew if you found out the truth...you wouldn’t either. That’s why I keep insisting you not tell Ben you aren’t his father. He doesn’t need to know about Cory. Not ever.”
I’m trying to wrap my head around it all. It's like a damn thread around a bowling ball, trying to hold it up without a prayer.
The worst part? It’s making me sick because it makes too much fucking sense.
“Cory hid his tracks well. Took me over a year to find out how they’d gotten into our system and accessed the entire project from start to finish, but I did. Once Cory died, they no longer had an in...and our firewalls caught them.” Sloan steps up to the chair and leans against it. “Now, they're coming back for more. New hackers, fresh off their A-team, cracking up power grids and breaking into international banks.”
The slow clearing mind fog lets me think of the new projects underway. “The drones. Christ. They’re after the goddamn drone system.”
He snaps his head up, and though he hides it quickly, I’d seen the flash in his eyes.
Sloan steps away from the chair. “Don’t worry about what it is. This new company I hired, the one you signed the check for the other day, they’re on it, and they’re damn good.”
I lean back against my desk and heave out a sigh. “You should've told me about this.”
Sloan throws his hands in the air. “He was your brother, man. Your twin brother. You loved him. We loved him and Juno both. I couldn’t.”
I can’t think about Cory right now. Can’t even go there.
“You should've told me about this latest hack, Sloan. A whole lot sooner.”
“I couldn’t. They’re tied together, dude.” He rubs his chin, deep in thought. “Hey, remember that tall, bald dude at the funeral years ago? The guy we didn’t know who it was?”
I don’t have a clue what he's talking about at first, but then an image forms.
“Yeah. I think.” My stomach sinks.
“You remember his name?” Sloan stares at me, knowing perfectly well I don't. “Lavrov.”
Fuck. The man had signed the guest book. He’s Russian.
Sloan’s brows rise and he frowns. “Look, dude, you have a lot to think about right now. I get it. I shat the bed real bad with how I handled this. And if you wanna know the truth, I feel like a real ass for sticking my nose in your girlie issues...they're not the real problem. Not really. So let’s meet on Monday, at my office? We can go over everything I know about this latest hack attempt. Everything this new company found.”
I don’t want to wait, but know I should.
I’m probably not thinking straight right now.
“All right.” I nod. “Fine. Monday.”
Sloan shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Hunt. I never wanted you to know. Never wanted to have to tell you. You’re the closest thing to a brother I'll ever have.” He holds out a hand. “I love you, man.”
I step forward and clasp his hand. We give each other a one arm hug while shaking hands.
“You’ve always been there for me like nobody else. No denying it.”
“Always will be, Bud. Now and forever. Just you and me.” He slaps my shoulder as we separate. “Have yourself a stiff drink and then get some sleep. I'll find my way out.”
I nod, even though I know a drink and sleep isn’t going to help anything.
After he leaves, I slump back against my desk. “Fucking-A, Cory, why didn’t you just come to me? Tell me you needed money? I would've helped. You know that!”
Shaking my fist at the ceiling for a solid second, I let it fall, feeling like a total fool.
I don’t expect Cory to answer, of course. I pinch the bridge of my nose to combat the raging burn in my eyes.
Then a dull thud sounds somewhere in the house and I push off the desk.
I have to go talk to Wendy. Make amends. I need her, and I hope like hell she’ll understand why I acted the way I did tonight.
I'm upstairs when I nearly run smack into Sloan in my office doorway.
He has a tense smirk on his face.
I frown. “Now what?”
“Dude,” he says with almost a chuckle. “Your Yukon’s missing.”
“What?!” I shove him aside.
Wendy’s purse is no longer on the counter, and the garage is empty.
15
Old Friends (Wendy)
My insides quiver as the garage door opens all the way.
Hunter. Standing there like a statue. Huge arms crossed.
I pull in and turn off the SUV. He opens the driver’s door and doesn’t say a word.
I climb out, open the back door, and grab my bags off the back seat. Nothing’s heavy, just bulky, and four bags are all I can carry.
I step around him and walk into the house, glad to know Sloan is gone. His truck was still here when I left, and they’d been in the office, all hushed growls and short explosions.
I carry the bags to the front room. Hunter follows right behind me.
I can feel him, and also hear him, the bags he's carrying rustling.
There's still this brutal, quiet tension between us, but it’s mellowing.
Not anger, just reticence. Like neither of wants to say anything.
I sure don’t. I don’t have anything I want to say to him right now.
I’m numb inside. Hollowed out. Disappointed with myself for letting things get so far out of hand and taking his vehicle for a spin around the snowy Saint Paul streets so I could think.
I'm surprised he hasn't exploded all over me yet.
All I’ve ever wanted to do was bake, honestly. Especially cakes, just like I’m doing now.
Don’t need more. Never asked for it. Definitely not for some big, snarly man to screw with my feelings and tangle up my life.
“You didn’t need to do this, Sugar. If you meant to send me a message, we could've sat down and talked like normal human beings.”
His voice comes, finally. Quietly. Calmly.
I have to close my eyes at the sound of it and swallow hard. It's even worse because he doesn't sound pissed.
Rather than respond, I say something I’ll regret later.
Something like “Actually, I did need to do it because I love you. And I love Ben, too.”
His blue eyes soften, then brighten like gas flames.
I open the first bag and pull out a package of tree ornaments. The tree was heavier than a boulder, but I’d managed to get it upright again all on my own before I stormed out of the house. Right after he’d gone down to his office to talk with that creep he calls a friend.
The worst part of the mess was all the shattered decorations. Smashed ornaments, tinsel like confetti, light bulbs scattered like dead fireworks.
I’d cleaned them up, vacuumed, and hauled out the trash before I went to buy the replacements.
Without a word, I turn my back and start decorating the tree, not feeling any of the joy I’d experienced the first time around. This feels more like laying out flowers at a funeral.
But after a minute, I hear rustling behind me. Hunter, opening more packages, then coming up next to me and placing the new stuff in the exact same places where the originals were hung.
Throws over the back of the chair and sofa. Pillows on the seat cushions. Yankee candles and garland on the mantle.
Because we're both so focused, so hellbent on keeping our distance from each other, it doesn’t take long before the room looks exactly like it did before. Neither of us comment as we gather up the empty packages and stuff them in the bags.
Or as we carry them out of the room.
Once everything's discarded, and we’re in the hallway off the kitchen, I remember Jingles and stop to open the laundry room door so he can have full run of the house again. He gives me a grateful yowl and runs off.
I find Hunter in the kitchen, leaning against the cen
ter island. “How much do I owe you, anyway?”
That's it? He's worried about the money?
I’m so disappointed – no, hurt – that all I can do is shake my head.
I walk around to the other side of the island.
He meets me at the other end, though, and grabs ahold of my arm. His touch may be soft, but it feels like a vice, but not on my arm.
The pressure is lower, deeper, focused around my heart.
God. I can't even put into words how frustrated I am that he has this kind of hold over me.
So I close my eyes for a moment, maintaining my composure. Barely.
“I don’t want your money, Hunter. Neither do my parents. If that's what you're still worried about, then –”
“No. Don't go. We're past that,” he growls, taking a step closer. “Thank you, Wendy. Thanks for cleaning that up. For doing all this.”
He lets out a sigh. “And, yeah, I’m sorry.”
There’s remorse in his eyes. Those beautiful light-blue eyes that I know are going to haunt me the rest of my life because there’s not another pair like them on Earth.
Or another man quite like Hunter Forsythe.
He releases my arm with a tense glance. “I know your parents are filing for bankruptcy. But I know that's not why you're with me.”
Not again. I’m disappointed, hurt.
I never knew insides could hurt like mine do now. “Oh? Why? Because Sloan told you?” I’m still disgusted with myself, too, and shake my head. “Don’t even answer. I don’t want to know.”
I leave the room, but I hear heavy footsteps behind me.
“Wendy...there’s a reason why he told me. It's not what you think.”
I keep walking. Screw it. There's no salvaging this.
I'm going to get my coat and purse, then go upstairs and get the clothes and things I bought this afternoon, and leave.
Just leave. Then I’m going to bury myself in as much work as it takes to forget. Totally forget Hunter Forsythe exists.
“This isn't about you, or your parents. Truth is, it's the company. Landmark's having some serious issues right now that Sloan’s dealing with. That's why he was up in arms, and why he acted like a fucking idiot.”
Really? He’s making excuses for that freaking vampire?
I grab my coat and purse off the bench in the foyer, glad I kicked off my heels by the backdoor so I can run upstairs faster.
Hitting the steps with enough speed to take me all the way to the top, I say, “Sounds like a you problem. Hunter. My parents don't have anything to do with Landmark Defense.”
“He just thought you were a diversion. Bad for me. Yeah, he's an overprotective idiot sometimes, and I told him so. But he had information he needed to give me.”
He’s on my heels as I head down the hallway to his bedroom. Anger roars again, and it’s fueling my steps. “I don’t give a damn what he needs, and I don't know why you do either.”
“Because, dammit, it’s complicated. Serious business. There’s a lot involved and –”
“Except for you. Weird how he never involves you, and just brings these things to your doorstep, isn't it?” I’ve gotten to know him well the past few weeks, very well, and have seen the longing in his eyes when he talks about his company.
He loves it. Misses it. Hates being so disengaged, even if he doesn't come out and say it.
Spinning around, I face him. “Why is that, Hunter? Oh, that’s right...because Sloan convinced you early retirement was the best medicine.” There, I say it. If that bastard can talk about me, I can talk about him. “So you can take care of Ben. Well, let me tell you something...damn near every parent has a full-time job and takes care of their kids. Some have two or three jobs. There's no good reason why you ever should've given up everything.”
His nostrils flare.
His voice is ice. “Sloan didn’t convince me of shit.”
“He didn’t?” I huff out a pained laugh. “He told you my parents were filing bankruptcy. A total lie. That all they're after, all I’m after, is your money.” I pivot, heading into the room. “He did a fine job of it, too.”
I grab a bag of my stuff off a chair.
Hunter snatches it out of my hand and throws it back in the seat. “Sloan was protecting me, Wendy. That's what I've hired him to do. Hell, that's what he's always done, long before I started signing his checks. He didn’t want me to discover the truth, he...fuck. He didn't want me to know Cory sold us out.”
I'm about to fire back, but I stop, mouth hanging open. What?
The anguish in his eyes stops me from reaching for the bag again.
Choosing my next words carefully, I say, “Cory’s been dead a long time, hasn't he? What are you talking about?”
“I know. And Sloan’s been protecting me for a long time. And Ben. From the truth...an evil fucking truth about my brother that hurts almost as bad as his death. It happened before he died. While he was setting up the office we have here now. It was Cory’s idea to set up shop here in Minnesota. Always a branch he'd oversee, before it became our main headquarters.”
He’s looking off into space as he talks, almost like he’s not quite believing what he’s saying.
“I agreed because I knew him and Juno were having issues. An old boyfriend or something, I don’t know for sure. Cory wouldn't say. She was pregnant at the time, and honestly...I wondered if it was even Cory's. Until I saw Ben. He was the spitting image of my brother and me those first few months.”
Despite the pain in his voice, he smiles, remembering Ben as a baby. That does something terrible to my heart.
“I was traveling a lot then, selling security systems to anyone who'd listen in every time zone. Hell, I didn’t even know what time zone I was in half the time. When Ben was born, I wanted Cory to have as much time as possible with the baby and Juno, so I promoted Sloan to Chief Security Officer, to take some of the load off of my brother. Shortly after, Cory started talking about a breach in our systems. Told me someone was trying to get in and steal our files, our prototypes, all our research and designs.”
He sits down on the bed. His shoulders slump. “Never in a million years would I have imagined it was Cory himself. Never. Fuck, after the way he acted, everything he sacrificed...we started this company together. He got our first government contract. A big one.”
He’s reeling. I feel it in myself as much as I can see it on his face.
My anger fades. Into this soft, hazy empathy that tells me how much I do love him, despite everything.
I sit down next to him. “You're sure about this, Hunter? Positive Cory was behind it?”
“Yeah. It’s all come together. Makes sense like it didn't before. The Russians hit the market with a new radar blocking system six weeks before we did. At the time, I thought it was a coincidence. Mainly because I was too busy to think otherwise. Cory and Juno were dead. She didn’t have any family, so it all fell on me to figure shit out. I was in the middle of legally adopting Ben, going through nannies like they were toilet paper. The headquarters out here was only half-completed, a shell of what it is now.”
He looks through me and sighs. “It was a fucking nightmare. When I think back, try to remember, it’s nothing but a blur. Everything except Cory’s death, the night of the fire. I felt like I was only half there. Like the other half of me died with Cory. There were times I thought about turning my back on everything. Just taking Ben and walking away.”
I’m rubbing his back, heart splintering at his anguish.
I lean my head against his shoulder. “But you didn’t. You pulled through.”
“I had to. For Ben's sake. He’d been sick shortly before the fire. In the hospital with pneumonia. Cory and Juno never left his side, and every time I talked to him, he’d say Ben was going to grow up and become the third partner in Landmark someday. When Cory died, I knew I had to make that happen. Keep Landmark going so Ben would have something to inherit from his father.”
It's awful.
> So much more complicated, complex, than anything I’ve ever dealt with, and I’m at a loss how to help him. Have no idea how.
“So what’s happening now?” I ask, hoping there’s something I can do.
“They're back,” he says. “When Cory died, their connection was broken, but now...they’ve found another way in. This time, they want our drone system. Sloan didn't say it – not exactly – but I just fucking know.”
“Who's they?”
“The Russians, probably. Hell if I know. Could be anyone.”
I’m taken aback. Ask myself if this is real life and these kind of crazy spy thriller things really happen.
“Russians?”
He nods. “They may not be the ones doing the hacking, but they're the ones willing to pay top dollar for what gets hacked. People don’t think much about getting their email breached, other than the inconvenience, but cyberattacks are serious business. National security business. Everything that winds up stolen is sold off to the highest bidder. Entire companies, whole governments have fallen apart because of it. It’s a war we can’t see so some don’t believe it’s there, but it is. And it’s as real, as deadly, as anything I ever saw in the Marines.”
He’s serious, and I believe him. There's this gravity in his voice that turns my blood ice-cold.
I also know that the entire time he’s been talking, he’s been thinking. Contemplating.
One part of me is scared to ask, but another part grasps what’s happened tonight. Everything he's struggled with since his brother died.
And tonight, he confronted those demons. Inwardly. Now he has to do it outwardly.
“What are you going to do about this?” I ask.
He stands up. “Come out of retirement.” His chest swells before he lets out a long, low growl. “Get back to work and tell Ben the truth.”
I nod, and then ask, “What do you need from me?”
His eyes soften. “Forgiveness. If you're willing, Sugar.”
I stand and take hold of his hands. “You've already got it.”
“Fuck, babe, I'm sorry.” His huge arms hold me tight while he kisses my forehead. “So, so sorry. For all this. It's nothing you ever should've gotten dragged into.”
