I squeezed my thighs together when feelings that refused to go away rolled over me once more, the memory of two different cocks inside me warming my belly with a heat I hadn’t felt in a long time. In a way, Carter, unknowingly, had helped me to take the past and overwrite it with new sensations, a new mindset on having more than one man at the same time.
Evan understood my silence, but sighed heavily. “Did you manage to shift the records for the client?” he asked, changing the subject to one he knew I would accept.
“Yeah, simple hack. Cleared in sixteen minutes.” I sighed. “Sometimes I wish we’d get a job that required some grit, instead of all this boring shit.”
He laughed, and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, but hey, boring pays the bills.”
My IM popped up in the right hand corner of my screen, and I frowned when the unfamiliar tag got my attention.
.
My heart refused to beat and I sat staring at the message until my eyes prickled with tears. My lungs felt too heavy. The constant deep pulls of air to balance out the overwhelming fear made my vision blur and fuzz.
Blood rushed from my head into my chest and my chair shot backwards when I scrambled to move. It crashed to the floor and I tripped over it as I ran through the room to the steps.
I needed air. The door bounced off the wall when I flung it open and made a dash for the back of the house.
My throat wrestled between the air going in, and the vomit coming out. My ribs ached the harder I retched, my dry heaves bruising with a ferociousness that had me hugging my middle in attempt to ease the pain.
“Why didn’t I think!” I chastised myself when Evan came up beside me. “How fucking stupid could I be?”
Knowing he’d read the message after I’d reacted so dramatically, he growled. “I’m gonna kill the fucker!”
Pulling out his phone, he contacted one of our friends whose expertise in surveillance had been useful a few times. “Need an overhaul at Harley’s,” he spoke sharply. “Now. We’ll cover costs for your callout.”
Anger raced through me like an inferno. I couldn’t breathe for it. I couldn’t see for the ripple of heat pouring into my vision. I couldn’t stop the roar of fury that shook my body as I flew back into the house and ran down the steps to the basement.
Standing in the middle of the floor, I spun around, my arms held out by my side as I hunted for any sign of a camera.
“Come on, you fucking prick! Stop hiding and come and play.”
My IM pinged and I glared at it.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re doing this?” I asked, pivoting to look at every inch of the room. “Do you honestly think you can break something you left broken a year and a half ago? I have nothing to lose, Michael.”
I could almost see him smirking, that cruel sneer that he used to wear when he’d make me beg for just a little bit of Cloud making my blood heat further.
“Well? Come on. You wanted my attention and you’ve got it.”
His silence enraged me and I flung out, swiping my arm across the desk and sending my monitor skidding into the wall, the sound of breaking glass and clattering metal filling the air. Every piece of my equipment followed, my mind at breaking point as I smashed my way through the room and annihilated everything in my way.
“Harl!” Evan came up behind me, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me off the ground.
“We’re ruined!” I screamed, wrestling with my best friend as he did his best to hold me down.
“It’s okay,” he soothed. “I’ll sort it.”
“How can you sort this?” I asked, shaking my head and laughing at his stupidity. “He’s been watching everything we’ve done. Every single little job we’ve done. He has everything, our clients, our codes, our software, all on fucking film!”
He blanched, reality sinking in when he finally understood, and his eyes widened in fear.
“Yeah!” I nodded spitefully. “Oh yeah.”
“But that doesn’t mean he will do anything with it. It’s encrypted.”
I laughed harder, I couldn’t help it. Tears of amusement ran down my face. “Jesus, Ev! I may be the best hacker this side of London. But Michael was, and always will be, the number one of everywhere. Encryption doesn’t bother him. Don’t you see? He now has a full client list of every job we’ve done. Every fucking heist, every take. And take a guess what he will do with all that info?”
“Fuck!” he hissed, stumbling backwards.
“We’re dead, Evan. Every victim of our client’s will soon know exactly who hacked into their systems. Our name will be accountable for every million that’s been shifted from their accounts, every secret file we’ve been asked to move or modify. Every code we’ve been asked to build will now come with a virus attached. This is it. We’re dead.”
I sank down to the floor. “It’s over.”
Eighteen
I stared at the IM, confusion and shock making me read each word slowly and carefully.
Quickly typing back before she closed down our connection, I braced myself.
“No, no, no!” I muttered when she severed our link.
“What’s up?” Jobe frowned, taking the bottle of whisky that sat next to me on the desk, filled a glass for himself and topped mine up.
“She’s ended it. Something’s not right.”
“Why would she stop now?”
“I don’t know. But I have a feeling it’s something to do with Michael McKenzie.”
She couldn’t just decide it was over. I wouldn’t let her. We were both engulfed in it, and I was just as hungry for their deaths as she was – had been. It didn’t make sense.
Jobe suddenly sucked in a breath as he looked down at his phone. “Guess who took the bait?”
“Charlotte?”
He laughed, giving me a wink. “The one and only.”
“Then let’s begin Number Two.”
Grinning, he gave out a quick squeal of excitement, the crazy part of him that was always trying to break its way out finding a crack in the walls he struggled to build around it. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Her wide blue eyes fixed on mine when she spotted me walking through the restaurant towards her. She jolted, unsure whether to stand or remain seated as I approached her. “Hey.” She smiled and eventually decided to stand.
I remained tight-lipped, unsure of how I felt coming face to face with her again. My heart was pounding, but it wasn’t with love this time. Yet, my eyes feasted on her, filling up on her beauty. “You look good, Charlotte.”
“And you,” she said quietly, retaking her seat as I lowered myself into the one opposite her.
She stared at me, her expression full of something I didn’t want to see. “So, how have you been?”
Nodding, I grinned. “Good. Really good.”
We both looked up at the waiter when he stood expectantly with his pen poised over his little notebook. “Johnnie Walker, no ice,” I snapped, affronted that he couldn’t even be bothered with pleasantries, his bored expression making my fist twitch.
Charlotte’s eyes widened at my bluntness. The waiter quirked a brow at her, silently asking her what she wanted. She blinked and stuttered, “Oh, uhh, Merlot please.”
He nodded and then disappeared, without a single word.
Shaking my head, I turned back to Charlotte. “You must be wondering why I got in touch?”
She nodded. “Yes. Especially after so long. Plus, we didn’t part on….”
“That’s all in the past.” Reaching across the table, I took her hand and attempted to soften my gaze. My heart was beating furiously, the fever that was swamping me at the touch of her again making the room appear to spin around me. I was amazed how things had shifted. How love could mould into such a physical hatred. “The truth is, Charlotte. Well I’ve never really been able to move on. I said some horrible things to you, and…”
“No,” she cut in. She seemed different than how she used to be. She was quieter, timid, an
d it surprised me. She’d always been so confident and forward, yet now she sat meekly, like she was terrified of me. She should be. She fucking should be. “I… It was on me; we both know that. What you said was justified. I was such a horrible person.”
“So,” I barked quickly, cutting her off abruptly. I didn’t want to go on that trip with her. If she had found a conscience, then I wasn’t going to be the one to stem her guilt. I wanted it to fucking drown her. “How’s the family?”
She squinted in surprise at my sudden change of direction, and gave the waiter a smile of thanks when he placed her wine on the table. Taking a large mouthful, she swallowed it before addressing my question. “Mummy and Daddy have moved out to San Francisco.”
“Really?” I widened my eyes with false astonishment. “Good for them. And Gareth?”
She stilled, and then winced. “Well, Gareth isn’t doing so good.”
“No?” Planting a fake look of concern on my face I took a gulp of whisky to disguise the smile that I was struggling to keep supressed.
“He, uhh, got into some trouble. His friends weren’t good people, and they stitched him up.”
I had to bite my lip to stop the bark of laughter. “Oh?”
She shook her head. “Gareth did nothing wrong, but they blamed him for everything. He’s in Belmarsh, and there’s not a damn thing I can do to help him. I feel so useless.” Tears welled in her eyes, and if I had a conscience I would have felt a pang of pity for her. Except I didn’t. I was loving every little bit of her misery.
Sighing sympathetically, I gave her hand another squeeze. “Would you like me to go and see him? I don’t suppose he gets many visitors.”
Her eyes widened once again. “You would do that?”
“Sure. Me and Gareth got on okay. I liked him. Anything I can do to help, babe.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she mewed, smiling across the table at me. “I’ll arrange a visiting order.”
I nodded, then right on cue, my phone rang. “Yeah,” I huffed into it.
Jobe chuckled at the other end. “Thought it was about time I saved you.”
“I’m on my way.”
Disappointment spread across Charlotte’s face when I stood up. “I’m sorry. A problem I have to deal with.”
She stood up and I leaned in, dropping a kiss to her cheek as I fought to contain the shudder of repulsion slicing through my gut. “I’m sorry too. It was good to see you.”
Gazing at her, I ran the backs of my fingers across her prominent cheekbone, my mind only seeing the smear of tears across another beautiful woman’s face. It was the only way I could stomach touching Charlotte, imaging her as another. “You’ll let me know when the VO comes through?”
“Of course.” She nodded eagerly, grinning up at me. “Thank you so much.”
Giving her a wink, I turned and walked away, pressing the phone to my ear when I stepped outside and took in huge gulps of air. “Hook, line and fucking sinker.”
Jobe laughed. “Time to play with Number Two.”
“Fuck, yes. Gareth is mine.”
And fuck me, when I forced his sister to watch every second of his death, only then would the hole that had been torn into my heart finally heal. I told myself that Gareth was mine for my revenge on Charlotte. But I knew, deep inside, that Charlotte had nothing to do with the reason for all the hatred bubbling up inside me. Gareth had hurt my girl – there it was again – and for that he would pay. As painfully as possible. It was just unfortunate that I wouldn’t be the one to take Gareth’s last breath, yet I wanted to watch the fear in his eyes when I told him I was going to make him pay for his involvement in breaking Harley Davids. I wanted to watch the realisation seep into his eyes when he knew he was going to die.
It had been easy to set up his murder, but they wouldn’t, not until I had had my enjoyment with him first. And when the video came through of his torture and very painful death, Charlotte would get an anonymous copy.
And so would Harley. She thought it was over. But it was far from it.
Nineteen
“I’m glad you decided to relent, Harley.”
My stomach roiled and saliva filled my mouth as my body prepared for purging. Bill Clancy’s hand held mine with a force that was less than gentle and gave away his fears—that I would run. Believe me, I wanted to, but I knew what was good for my health. Safety. Bill was definitely not good for my health, but he would keep me physically safe, and that would do for now. I had decided to relent, but not because I’d suddenly become partial to leery politicians. I’d decided to come out with him tonight because when Michael finally revealed the aim of his game, I’d need protection I couldn’t get from anywhere other than standing beside Bill Clancy MP. Sure, I knew he wouldn’t be able to grant me judicial immunity, but I also knew that seeing me go to prison wouldn’t be Michael’s goal. He had something much worse in mind, and that would be where Bill came in.
“I figured a drink couldn’t do any harm.”
“Certainly not.”
The backs of his fingers trailed down my arm and it took all the strength I had not to push him away. Instead, I took a healthy gulp of the white wine he’d ordered and tried to pretend it wasn’t his hands on me, but those of someone else who had played with my mind in entirely different ways.
“You know,” he continued, taking a leisurely sip of his own wine. “I always knew we’d be good together. I knew you’d give in.”
Because I was a wealthy, intelligent woman and he was a wealthy man who knew how to feign intelligence? I had a feeling that wasn’t what he meant. What he meant was, I was a woman—just a woman—and he was a powerful man; the way he saw it, I was susceptible to the charm he thought he had. I scoffed on another hard gulp.
“How so?” I asked, out of curiosity. I already knew what was going on in his little peanut-sized brain.
“Have you selected your choices?” the waiter asked when he arrived at our table.
I opened my mouth to order, but Bill took over and chose for me. Pointless me having a menu, really. I wouldn’t have chosen the boeuf-whatever it was, and I certainly wouldn’t have ordered oysters to start. But I’d play the good little date because when Michael came for me, I would hide behind him and pretend I knew nothing about any allegations. The mission may have failed, but my determination to keep my life—just for a while longer—hadn’t gone anywhere. I don’t know what else Bill and the waiter talked about, while my date spouted his creepy arse-licking bullshit and the waiter lapped up in the hopes of receiving a mighty tip; I’d zoned out and when I snapped back to reality, Bill had turned his body to shield us from the rest of the restaurant…as he poured two lines of cocaine onto a silver side-plate.
“What is this?” I asked, like I’d been reduced to one brain cell, and it had gone into self-preservation mode.
“Just a little Charlie,” he said, rolling up a fifty pound note and pointing it at me. “It’ll lighten the mood just a little.”
“I didn’t have you down as a snorter, Mr Clancy.”
I took the money anyway, knowing that little line would have worn off in no time, and I could leave him riding the high while I ate and wormed my way under his wing. The cocaine was a welcome treat, and I inhaled deeply after the first hit so I could feel every single grain of my Cloud.
Bill snorted his line and I took the moment, as he relished in the bliss I knew he was no veteran at experiencing, to look at my phone. It had been buzzing constantly, and I knew exactly who it was—I’d just chosen not to answer it.
It was like the pocket money you got as a child. You knew it was in your pocket and you didn’t want to touch it because you knew once you had, it would be gone. It burned a hole in my pocket, the need to talk to him, and I knew once I did, I’d be stuck—the mission would be resurrected and I’d not only be putting my life in danger, but the stranger’s who had decided to help me, too.
A lot. The answer to his fifth message was a lot. The people who could harm
us the most were the ones we allowed to get too close. The people who condemned us to misery and loneliness were the ones who promised us happiness and gave us hope.
Harley. He’d called me Harley. He knew who I was. How? The bastard. In one message, he told me I was safe and in the next, he was as dangerous as everyone else. I knew I shouldn’t have looked at the messages.
“Harley?” A warm hand and thick fingers wrapped around my wrist and when I looked up, Bill was holding an oyster towards me. “Just open your mouth and swallow, sweetheart.”
The spark of arousal in his voice told me what he was thinking and I couldn’t control the retch.
“I don’t like them,” I said, my voice distant and vibrato.
“No?” He pursed his lips, shrugged and tipped the oyster into his mouth. “They taste of the sea.”
“Never much liked the sea.”
I was rambling. I was incoherent and fuzzed. Why was I talking about the sea? I wanted to go to the seaside. I wanted ice cream and to watch the boats out on the horizon.
“What did you give me?” I asked.
“Nothing you haven’t had before.”
He knew me. How did he know about my habit? Was I safe around anyone? Did anyone in my life not want to abuse and kill me?
“I…” No point in denying it now. “It’s…different.”
“No.” Bill shook his head. “No, it’s not.”
He called for the waiter and everything around me moved in slow motion, my head began to loll, my eyes began to droop, and I couldn’t fucking breathe. I started to gasp and choke, my breaths coming short and shallow; my fingers tingled with numbness and my vision slipped in and out.
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