by Kitty Cox
"Tell him I love him?" she whispered.
"Dez," Bradley gasped.
Then, from the back side of the loading dock, Chance yelled, "If you hurt her, I will break you! You want Dez, you have to come through me."
Bradley's head jerked over, pinpointing his location. Chris twisted, the barrel finally leaving her head. Held so close against him, Dez felt his arm reach out, but the man was an idiot. She was a paranoid freak who didn't touch people, but she still had her hands free. From the corner of her eye, she saw Chance marching toward them. Chris had him right in his sights.
She lunged.
Her hands closed on his wrist, and she yanked as hard as she could. Surrounded on three sides by concrete, the sound of the gun was too loud. It wasn't a pop; it was a bang, and her ears split with the force of the concussion. Chance dropped. And then she felt the man behind her jerk. Hard.
Chapter 41
"Chance!" The word was ripped from her throat even as the arm she held pulled her to the ground like dead weight.
Dez didn't care. She also didn't stop. Propelling herself forward with both her hands and legs, she broke free, rushing toward him. He was still moving, rolling slowly on the ground. Behind her, the world had turned into insanity.
Everyone was yelling. People were storming toward her from every direction, but none of it mattered. She just had to reach Chance. If she was with him, then she was safe. Chance would protect her. He'd take care of her. He always had!
"Chance," she gasped one more time, sliding to his side.
"Fuck," he groaned, clutching at his thigh. "Oh shit, Dez, that hurts. Fucking hurts!"
Behind her, people were yelling about something being secure, but her mind couldn't take any more. All that mattered was that Chance was alive. He was also bleeding. Rather a lot.
"Ok," she said, mostly to herself. "I think we're supposed to put pressure on it."
"Only if you want it to hurt." The cold, wry voice made her jump. Jason walked up, his boots barely making a sound, and he gestured for her to move back. "Just kiss on him or something. Lemme see your leg, bro."
Chance lifted his hands, blood covering both of them. "Where's Chris?"
Jason knelt at his side. "He's not a problem anymore. Lift your knee, man. Need to see if it's a through and through."
"You a medic or something?"
Those grey-green eyes looked up, locking on Chance's. "Did my time in the military." Then they turned on her, looking dead. "Sorry I was late."
Dez had to swallow before her voice would work. "Are you ok?"
"Hey," Chance grunted. "He's not the one that got shot."
Jason just took a long breath. "I will be. Lift your leg, Chance. Gonna suck, but I think you'll make it."
Chance obeyed, making only a little production of the ordeal. When Jason probed the back of his thigh, though, he sucked in a breath. "What the fuck?"
"Didn't go through. Not trying to grope you."
Dez giggled. "He might like it if you did."
"And here I thought he hated me." Leaning back, he slapped Chance's arm lightly. "Not enough blood to make me worry, but the bullet's still in there. Means they're gonna want to operate to get it out, most likely, unless it's lodged in something." Then he pulled out a bandage that looked a little too much like a maxi pad. "Press this to it. Ambulance is on the way. ETA two minutes."
"Hey." Chance took the pad and held it to the blood on his jeans. "Thanks for saving her."
Jason nodded once. "Thanks for trusting me."
Dez, clinging to Chance's arm, was trying to keep up. "Did Bradley get Chris?"
Those empty eyes turned to her. "I did."
"Huh?"
Chance rubbed her arm, leaving a smear of red behind. "Sugar, Chris was using you as a shield. Jason said if I could get him to look away, he could make the shot."
"You knew I'd grab the gun?"
"No," they both said, but Jason kept going. "Worked out. Soon as you lunged, left the dick's head wide open. Put one right above his ear. Thought you knew he was dead, the way you ran off like that."
And the pieces began to all fit together. "That's why he got heavy!" She pulled Chance's arm higher and kissed the back – where it wasn't covered in gore. "I didn't even think about it. I just knew you'd been shot. I just wanted to make sure you were ok."
"And you didn't even panic," he said, making it sound like praise.
"I panicked." She reached down and pushed a lock of red hair away from his brow. "I thought I was about to get fridged."
"Nah." Chance smiled, but she could see he was trying to ignore the pain. "Sugar, girls like you don't get written out as some guy's motivation. You're the star. The Queen of the damned Flawed."
"The hero," Jason said, rocking back on his heels. "And I think you also just got enough press to make sure Silk has one hell of a release." He pointed up, making them both aware of the helicopters in the sky.
"Fuck," Chance breathed. "I'm gonna miss the release of my own game."
"Me, too," Dez said. "I'm going with you."
"Can't. Someone's gotta make sure things go smoothly."
She just shook her head. "It's just a game, Chance."
"It's our game."
Like an exclamation point, the sound of a vehicle driving over the curb made them all look back. It was the ambulance, for once, right on time. Jason stood up and waved it over, pointing to the man on the ground.
"How about you two take the day off. Brad and I will help keep this under control, and I'm pretty sure that crew of freaks can make sure you both get rich." He tossed them a smile. "And if anyone tries to fuck with the network, I'll pull out a few tricks."
The ambulance stopped and paramedics jumped out. Dez leaned away, but Chance nodded at her, letting her know he understood. She could take a lot more than before, but a group of people she didn't know? That was too much. Not that she'd leave him, but the sidelines were close enough. Besides, he needed medical attention, and they were paramedics. She'd just get in the way. That didn't mean she'd take her eyes off him. Not after all of that!
"His girlfriend goes with," Jason said, loud enough to be heard.
One of them nodded. Dez figured that was as good as she was going to get. "Thanks, Jason."
"Yeah." He took another step back, gesturing for her to follow. "Dez, this isn't over."
"They're going to try to shoot me again?"
He shook his head. "Probably not. I'm sorry I was late this morning, but I found something. A group was online, talking about how the sacrificial lamb was going to take out the queen bitch. That usually means you."
"Ok?"
"I thought they meant online. I had no idea that idiot would try this, but that's the problem. I'm only able to see what they put out in public. I can't break into their group." He glanced toward the loading dock, then shifted closer. "Dez, this is a hate group. They want to destroy any woman who's interested in their little scene, and they don't play nice. What they did to you isn't the worst."
"Why? Why are they doing this?"
"I can't tell you that. I simply don't know what makes someone this fucked up. All I can say is that I'm going to stop them. Last week, they started harassing a journalist named Nina Sarkovsky. Your little friend Claudia Watson has been mentioned. So have Sam and Amy."
"Yeah." Which meant this was far from over. "Did they get that gamer, um, Eden?"
"I can't be sure, but I think so."
Dez said nothing, her eyes watching the paramedics cut away Chance's jeans to expose the wound. He wasn't screaming. It probably wasn't very comfortable, but he honestly looked like he was going to be ok. That meant that once again, she'd managed to dodge the worst of what these people could do to her. Her luck couldn't last forever.
"What can I do?"
He sucked in a deep breath, then let it out. "I can't tell you to do anything. I shouldn't even suggest it."
Which meant he needed something. She turned, lifting her chin. "How the he
ll do I make these bastards pay?"
"Would be a hell of a lot easier to stop them if I could get where they wanna play, but there isn't a game like that."
Her mouth began to curl. "Like what?"
"An FPS with a world that doesn't end. Something that isn't match based. The kind of game where people get to know each other, like an MMO."
"A massively multiplayer first-person shooter?" She nodded. "I can do that. I've got the right team, but it'll take a while."
"The sooner, the better. This is an anti-women group. We need someplace that girls will want to play, and these assholes won't be able to help but try to chase them off."
She huffed, peeling her eyes off Chance long enough to meet Jason's strange eyes. "Someplace you can build an army, huh?"
"Of women? Sure, if I can find the right ones – and we both know they're out there." He shrugged. "Maybe I'll figure out how to catch them first, but it's been three years and I'm still chasing them. These people aren't stupid, Dez. They know the internet as well as we do."
"No," she promised. "They don't. It's my internet."
Jason chuckled. "Babe, you're gonna have to share. Pretty sure I've been hacking this shit longer than you've been alive. Now go take care of your boyfriend. I'll stick around for a few days to make sure everything really is as done as it looks."
She turned, took a step, then stopped. "Jason?" When he jerked his chin at her, she continued. "Thanks. I'd shake your hand and all, but..."
He just smiled. "Don't really like touching people either, Dez. Probably why I like you. Tell Chance to get well fast."
They were just loading him into the back. Dez made her way around, but when the guy offered her a hand up, she ignored it. The last thing she needed right now was to freak out. Granted, it was probably coming, but lately, she could never be sure. She'd just had a gun against her head, and oddly, it wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened to her. Thinking she'd lose Chance topped that list by a long shot. She claimed the spot beside his shoulder.
"Ya know," Chance said, turning his head to look at her. "Think I know why you like the drugs." He smiled drunkenly. "Feelin' no pain, Sugar."
"Don't get addicted."
"Already am," he teased. "I like my women covered in ink. No. Woman. You." His eyes drifted closed but his mouth wouldn't stop. "I like you, Dez. A lot. Like enough to die for you."
She reached up and pushed the hair back from his brow. "I love you too, Chance, but I got bad news."
"Mm?" He tried to open his eyes, but couldn't get more than a crack. "Just don't sleep with the FBI guy."
"Nope. We're going to make him a game. I wanna call it Eternal Combat, and Braden gets to be lead on the game mechanics. Means you can't quit yet."
"Yeah." He sighed. "Yeah, that sounds like a nice game. We'll make it where we can shoot all the bad guys. Wouldn't it be nice if we could just shoot them and make everything better?"
"Yes, baby, it would. Now go to sleep. You gotta get all better before the release numbers come out." Then she looked over his body at the paramedic on the other side. "What time is it?"
"8:05. Why?"
"Because right about now, we're changing the game industry. Five minutes ago, Silk just went live." She leaned over and kissed Chance's head. "And I don't even care how it's doing, I just want to make sure he's going to be ok."
"He's going to be fine," the man promised. "Not even much of a scar to brag about, sadly."
"That's ok. He doesn't need a scar to be my hero."
Epilogue
Patio lights dangled from the top of the warehouse ceiling. Dez had no idea how they'd even gotten up there, but she liked it. Some looked like little monsters that belonged in a game. Another string was supposed to be beer bottles. On the other side was a strand of cocktail glasses in neon colors. Between all of those were white LED lights that sparkled. Beneath all of that, the warehouse had been turned into the biggest party she could imagine.
One corner had a keg. The reception area was converted into a bar. Her little den under the loft had been taken up with tables filled with snacks, but that wasn't the best part. The reason Dez couldn't stop smiling was the message written across the whiteboard:
"Silk subscriptions: 1 mil!!!"
One month after the game went live, and they officially had one million paying subscribers sticking with the game. More came in every day, but this was what she'd always dreamed of. They weren't doing as well as World of Warcraft – and probably never would – but she had no complaints. They were still making plenty of money to not only keep making games but also hire more employees to help.
That didn't mean she was any better at mingling. Chance told her to be seen, so she was making a lap through the warehouse, smiling at people as she passed. Thankfully, most understood. As she headed toward the front of the building, she watched one guy yank another out of her way, preventing him from accidentally touching her. She tossed him an appreciative look. He nodded back. At least they didn't really expect her to be social. Then again, the ordeal on release day had made national news. It had even eclipsed the drama of her overdose at F5.
But this was too much. The team deserved it. Hell, they needed the celebration to thank them for all the hard work and extra hours they'd put in to make her dream into a reality. She still didn't want to rub shoulders with any of them. Turning a bit, she made her way past the front desk, snagging a Pepsi from the ice-filled bin on the floor and headed right for the small conference room. Letting the door drift almost closed, she dropped into a chair and opened the bottle.
No more drugs. She only drank lightly, now. Cigarettes were harder to quit, but she'd converted to vaping and was weaning herself off the nicotine. The only real addiction she had left was gaming, and that was one thing she wouldn't give up. Well, that and Chance. Kicking her feet onto the oval table, Dez leaned back and took a moment to be proud of herself. She'd come a long way from the wreck working at Home Depot. Hell, if she kept this up, she might even end up normal.
As the thought crossed her mind, something jingled. A second later, the door opened a bit more, and heavy breathing entered the room. Dez sat up. That wasn't a person! Looking around the edge of the table she saw a short, stout, grey dog waddle closer, his tongue lolling from his mouth. From the collar around his neck, tags tinkled together which was the sound she'd heard.
"Hey, buddy," she said, patting her leg. "Whose friend are you?"
That was all the mutt needed. With an excited bound, he loped to her side, shoving his head right into her lap. It exposed the flat metal tag riveted to his leather collar. As she rubbed his floppy ears, she read what must be the dog's name: Master Chief.
"He says you're doing pretty good." The voice came from the doorway, and she recognized it instantly.
"Hey, Jason."
"Nice to see ya again, Dez. Where's your man?" He made a point of looking back as if scared he'd get caught.
She laughed and waved him in. "Flirting with Amy, probably. When did you get in?"
He claimed the chair across the table from her. "About ten minutes ago. Chance said the hero had to come to the party. Not that I'm a hero, but he was rather insistent. Hope it's ok that I brought Chief. Didn't want to leave the old man in a hotel all night."
"He's cute." She rumpled the dog's ears again, smiling down at him. "Nice name, too."
"Wrong color, though. Blue team sucks."
She stuck her tongue out. "I could totally kick your ass."
"Prolly." He grinned, proving he was just teasing. Then he sighed and sat up. "You want the good news or the bad?"
"Good news."
Jason nodded. "I think Kings of Gaming are going to leave you alone for a bit. Isn't a secret that FBI is all over Deviant Games after the shooting."
Dez sighed, knowing that wasn't necessarily a good thing. "And the bad?"
He rubbed his mouth. "They aren't done. They may not hit you, but they aren't ready to stop this bullshit." The look on his face wa
s serious. "I'm gonna go out on a bit of a limb here." His grey-green eyes pinned her. "And this needs to stay with the Flawed team. Ok?"
"Promise."
Jason smiled and leaned back. "I told Bradley that you'd mentioned a new game. Said it was going to be a first-person thing, and I was willing to bet it'd draw our friends in. Made it sound like it was already in the plans."
"Eternal Combat," she told him. "And it is. No one else needs to know where I got the idea."
"Yeah." He paused as the door opened, both of them looking up guiltily.
Chance shoved a crutch into the gap and leaned in. "Figured," he teased, then saw their expressions. "Am I intruding?"
Jason waved him in, standing to assist with the door. "Your timing is perfect, actually."
"Why?" Chance asked as he hobbled to the chair beside Dez.
Jason patted his shoulder as he once again made his way around the table. "Because your chick was hitting on me, bro. Didn't want to hurt her feelings or anything."
A laugh burst from Chance's mouth. "You're so full of shit."
"Basically." Jason cocked his head, making light of it. "Look, I was just telling Dez that my bosses don't know we talked about this new game. They think you already had it planned."
"We kinda did. I mean, there's enough documentation that we were going to start on something this month, we just didn't have a room to make a think tank. Why?" Chance looked between them.
Jason took a deep breath, then let it just fall out. "Because we chased them off Deviant, but they're pissed. Female developer for Turbo was beaten in her home and left for dead. Spent a week in a coma. Two reporters were doxxed." He paused. "Had all of their private information like phone numbers, address, and social security numbers released online. Things like that."
"So they've increased the attacks?" Dez asked.
Jason nodded, patting his leg to call his dog closer. "Yeah. Bastards are a step ahead of me. They're working with the best tech in the industry – better than even what you have. Nothing I can do will make this easy, but I'm not giving up." Those pale eyes made their way to Dez, his face completely serious. "I swear. I'm never going to give up, even if they pull me from this case. I don't care if it goes cold, if we lack funding, I'm not going to just let these assholes get away with this shit."
