Breaking His Code (Away From Keyboard Book 1)

by Patricia D. Eddy

  I could. Of course, I could. Just open my mouth and confess my painful history. But after our weekend together, I fear we’ve passed the point where I can admit I don’t have a relationship with my parents because I was an idiot sixteen years ago. I run my fingers over one of the thickest scars above my wrist.

  FlashPoint: You don’t understand. My family won’t talk to me anymore because I did something supremely stupid. My best friend from the army—my CO for fuck’s sake—walked out on me after I got blown up. I work for him now. I have to face him every day, and know that I’ll never see the old Royce again. The one who used to challenge me to drinking contests, who talked me through every bomb I diffused, who used to give me his MRE brownies because oddly, they reminded me of my Nana’s. If this guy learns all of that, how likely do you think he is to stick around?

  Silent tears race down my cheeks. I loved those fucking brownies. The sobs well up, and I slam the lid of the laptop, ashamed. The unbidden confession rips open a wound I thought had long healed, and I rub at one of the scars along my arm as if I can shove the words back inside and erase the memories of asking for Royce in the hospital time and time again when the doctors debated taking my leg.

  I stumble into the kitchen, desperate for something to dull the pain—to quash the taste of cinnamon on my tongue—Nana’s secret brownie ingredient—or the scent of roses from my mama’s perfume. The fiery cascade of bourbon ensures I won’t taste a damn thing for a while, and after the second generous pour disappears, I force myself to stopper the bottle. Getting drunk won’t solve anything—I’m well aware of that—but the slight buzz has the desired effect. I can breathe again, and now regret seeps in.

  I run a shaking hand through my hair and sniffle loudly. Maybe HuskyFan is right. West could hear about my colorful youth and laugh. Or he could be one more person who leaves.

  12

  CAM

  T he flower vendor grins as she hands me a single daisy. “They’re my favorite, too,” she says. “Most folks pass ‘em over for the roses or the lilies, but daisies can hold their petals for two whole weeks if you treat ‘em right.”

  I twirl the yellow flower in my fingers, the petals blurring as she tells me exactly how to keep the flower fresh. Just a small amount of water, changed often, and sunlight. I can do that. Once today’s over. With how little sleep I managed the previous night, I’ll have no end of challenges waiting for me in the basement server room. At least this little beauty will keep me company.

  As I enter the hotel, my phone buzzes.

  I need to see you tonight. Please tell me you’ll be up if I come over around 10?

  This week promises to try to break me, and I need every minute I can spare to finish Oversight so the testing can begin. With ten days until LaCosta wants the system fully implemented, I’m scrambling, but seeing West…having his arms around me for even a few minutes would be heaven.

  I can’t promise to be good company.

  The phone rings before I can slip the device back into my pocket. “What’s wrong?” When I don’t immediately answer, West clears his throat, and some of the hoarseness in his voice quiets. “I probably won’t be good company either, but we’d be together.”

  “This job is killing me.” I sink down onto one of the plush benches that line the lobby. “Every day, something else breaks. If I can’t stop the bleeding, Oversight…everything Royce has built, everything I’ve worked for these past three years…we’ll lose it all.”

  “I thought you had help. There are other programmers at your firm, right?”

  “This is my baby, West. Royce trusted me, and I promised him we’d be okay.” Dropping my head into my free hand, I try to shut down the memory of the last promise I made Royce, but my feeble attempt falls flat, and all I can see is his much-younger face, his flack jacket, the helmet that always seemed a little too small for him. “I have to fix Oversight. I don’t have a choice.”

  “You always have a choice, angel. Your options might suck, but you always have a choice.” Sadness laces his tone, and I ache to wrap my arms around him. Words fail me, and he sighs. “I’ve got a class in five minutes. I’ll see you tonight?”

  “Sure.” Only after he hangs up do I realize I never asked him why he wouldn’t be good company. Score another “F” for me on the “Caring Girlfriend” report card.

  As I adjust my laptop bag, I catch sight of Al heading for the freight elevators. “Al! Hold up a minute.”

  He stops, turning slowly as I reach his side. “‘Morning. Nice flower.”

  I can’t help my smile as I glance at the daisy. “My father used to bring these to my mother all the time, and the flower cart outside had a huge display this morning.”

  Al shifts from foot to foot as the elevator numbers slowly count down. “I’ve got to get up to twelve. Lucas is expecting me.”

  “I’ll ride with you.” We don’t speak again until the doors seal us in, and I can’t help noticing his bloodshot eyes as he darts a quick glance in my direction. “You okay?”

  He forces a smile. “Fine. Long couple of days. Half the crew and I worked ten hours yesterday. We’re headed to thirteen after lunch.”

  We’re almost a floor ahead, and if the guys can keep up this pace, I might get Lucas back in time to help me customize the last two modules. “You’re doing great work. I know you’re new to the company, but Royce is pretty cool about time off after big projects. You can bank on at least a couple of paid days off once we go live.” I step out into the hall and wait for him to join me. “Hang in there a little longer.”

  “I’ll try.” His phone trills as he clips his ID card to his belt. “I’ve got to take this.” The thick carpet muffles his footfalls as he practically races down the hall. “I told you I took care of it,” he mutters before he turns the corner.

  Al’s weekend may have sucked, but Lucas is a ray of sunshine. “You wanted results, we’ve got ‘em, hon. All of the cameras on the lower floors are working, and the last batch of hardware is out for delivery.”

  I high-five him, and the knot in the pit of my stomach eases. We chat for a few minutes, and then he drops his voice to a whisper. “TechLock is supposed to get back to me today.”

  Boom. The stress crashes down, and I exhale a deep breath, trying to release some of my worry over losing Lucas with a sigh. When I turn to him, a desperate need for approval greets me.

  Offering a supportive smile as I shove my own insecurities aside, I pat his arm. “I know they’ll love you. Just…don’t forget about us when you’re all brilliant-project-manager dude knocking them dead with your talent.”

  He nods, his eyes shining, and I head for the computer room before my emotions run haywire.

  Once I’m at my temporary desk surrounded by racks of tall servers, with my daisy in an old to-go cup next to me, I launch the standard systems checks and let my mind wander. Thanks to West, I’m addicted to those damn macchiatos now, and Broadcast Coffee is only two blocks away. My wallet might be doomed. I even bought a bag of their fancy beans for home. This can only end badly. Woman goes bankrupt from gourmet coffee habit. I can see the headlines now.

  The harsh beep startles me from my daydreams—mostly involving West and a naked Halo battle where the winner has a can of whipped cream—and I peer at the fault on the monitor. Error messages stack, one after another after another, and I scramble to try to shut the system down. The door to the server room thunders open, and I yelp in surprise.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Royce towers over me, and the look in his eyes could melt glass. Or freeze lava. “I was just in LaCosta’s office when the call came in. We’re eating up a ton of network resources and slowing down his booking system.”

  “I know. I don’t know why. Oversight’s got the smallest footprint of any security system on the market today and half of the ones still in development.” I push to my feet, though Royce and I will never be on equal footing again. “I check the logs every day, and our network drain has always been minimal
.”

  My heart rate skyrockets as I launch the sophisticated monitoring tools Royce wrote the year before he hired me. Every single gauge redlines within seconds.

  “We’re fucked.” Veins start to throb at his temples. “We’re going to lose all of the other Coana properties and ZoomWare. We’ll be the laughing stock of the entire industry.” His tone takes on an accusatory edge. “Why didn’t you ask for help?”

  I clench my hands hard enough to send tiny needles of pain zinging my palms. “I ran diagnostics on Friday once I installed the first set of modules. Everything was perfect.” Fury chills my tone. “Better than perfect, in fact, because I’m a fucking genius with code, and you know it. I didn’t get a single alert all weekend. Whatever caused this happened in the past twenty-four hours. So get off my ass and leave me the hell alone. I’ll fix this, but I’m not going to do it with you standing watch over me.”

  “Shut everything down until you do. Everything. Get Lucas in here to help you. Or hell, tell me what to do.”

  I’m already limping over to the network switch. “This isn’t my first day on the job.” Once I unplug the three cables that connect Oversight to the hotel’s network, I brace my hand on the table so I’m not tempted to punch Royce. Years of pent-up anger threaten to spill over in a single moment, and if I let go, I’ll lose so much more than I’m prepared for. “You know I work better alone. Go back to the office and let me do my job. I’ll find the problem. Tell LaCosta I’m going through the software line by line, and I’ll install additional monitoring to guarantee this won’t happen again.”

  He throws up his hands. “Fine. Have it your way. I want a detailed report by the end of the day. In person. Stop by the office on your way home.”

  I flinch as the door slams again, and my stomach roils. Alone, frustrated, and a little scared, I load the first module and get to work.

  By mid-afternoon, I’m sick. My hands shake with every keystroke, and my stomach burns from too much coffee and not enough food. Two of the original modules are back in production and performing perfectly. The third, however, threatens my sanity—and more.

  Royce keeps calling, but I can’t talk to him yet. Not without answers. Code unfolds before me, Oversight’s guts laid bare for dissection, and I tease out one particular line of code I’ve seen a dozen times today, but never before. Unless I blacked out—repeatedly—I never would have shuffled the processing like that, and the only other programmer with access—Lucas—should have known better as well.

  “Talk to me, baby.” I rub the back of my neck to try to release some of the tension, but granite has nothing on my muscles. Every time I try to strip these lines of code from the system, Oversight grinds to a halt. Unable to see my way clear, I break down and text Lucas.

  I need you in the server room.

  Five minutes. Ten. Twenty. When the phone finally rings, I can’t help snapping. “Where the hell are you?”

  “I’m on my way to TechLock. They wanted to meet in person and this traffic is killing me. What’s wrong?” He honks his horn and swears under his breath.

  “The camera control module’s all fucked up and it’s taking down the whole damn system. Did you work on it this weekend?”

  “Cam, I haven’t touched a single line of code other than what you sent me since Royce put me on cabling. I wrote that module two months ago. You said my work was flawless—the best I’d ever done, remember?”

  “Then what happened? Because I can’t load the damn thing without the whole system crashing. You and I are the only ones who have access to the source code, and I know you want off cabling.” My voice has risen half a dozen notes, and my tenuous grip on my emotions threatens to snap as I scroll through line after line of complete and utter garbage disguised as Oversight’s code.

  My stomach flips as his tone turns defensive. “Whoa, honey. I’ve been working my ass off in cramped, hot crawlspaces since we started this project. The spiders know me on sight now. And I still found time to help you this weekend. If that’s not dedication, I don’t know what is. I would never do anything to jeopardize this install and I sure as shit wouldn’t hurt my best friend by ruining her career—which if you’re not paying attention, is what you just accused me of.” His car door slams. “If all goes well, I’ll be back to Coana in ninety minutes. We’ll figure this out together. After you apologize to me.”

  If all goes well… The reminder shatters me, and I choke back a sob. “Oversight is my responsibility. I’ll fix it. When you’re done there, go back to cabling.”

  “Camilla Delgado, you damn well better not—“

  As I end the call, my world crumbles beneath me, and with no one to pick up the pieces, I don’t know how to find solid ground again. I can’t breathe and push my chair back so I can drop my head between my knees. Where did I go wrong? Did Lucas lie to me? Jeopardize the biggest project of our careers because Royce put him on cabling?

  He’d never do that to me.

  My eyes start to mist and burn, and I hate myself for even considering the possibility that my best friend would betray me. If only I could see another option. Once the room stops spinning, I reach for my phone, needing an outside perspective. West’s voicemail greets me, and I have to clear my throat twice before I can say anything after that stupid beep.

  “I… Something happened. Shit, that sounds so ominous.” I can’t help the high-pitched squeak that comes out as I try to laugh and fail. “Call me back as soon as you can, please.”

  Almost as soon as I hang up, I regret the words, so I send him a text.

  I just left you a vague voice mail. Consider it a 911 without any of the injuries or danger of death. Something happened with the project I’m working on, and I can’t talk to anyone else.

  After that message disappears into the ether, I open the backup copy of the camera control module. The whys aren’t important now. Oversight has to be my priority. “Okay, baby. Let’s find a way to make you whole again.”

  Each minute stretches out longer than the next. Other than the hum of the servers and the tat-tat-tat of my typing, I’m surrounded by silence. West hasn’t called, I haven’t seen Lucas, and even Royce has been quiet since I told him I found the problem and will have a fix and a report for him before I go home tonight.

  The clock taunts me: 5:59 p.m., 6:25 p.m., 7:12 p.m. When Lucas trudges in, the look of pure anguish on his face stays my tongue until he speaks.

  “I’d much rather go home and open a bottle of chardonnay,” he says with a hitch in his voice. “And before you say anything, I finished the cabling on both thirteen and fourteen. I didn’t touch the camera control module after you approved it, so what the hell happened?” A lone cobweb hangs from one of his dreads, and a rip in his t-shirt exposes a sliver of shoulder.

  I’d give anything to not be here right now. To be back on the battlefield, elbow deep in some car bomb with Royce in my ear. I turn my laptop screen so Lucas can see the problem subroutines. “What is this?”

  He narrows his eyes, bending down to scrutinize the offending function calls. “I have no idea. That’s not my code.”

  “Well, I know I didn’t write it.” Shaking my head only aggravates my headache, and I curse under my breath. “The truly sad part? Some of the functions here are fucking brilliant. Better than I could have done. But then I find shit like this. I had to shut down the whole system to stop the memory leaks.”

  Lucas unzips his messenger bag. “Let me help. Between the two of us, we can strip out all of the bad code in a few hours. And then we can both have wine.”

  “There’s nothing left for you to do.” I shut my laptop with a little more force than necessary, then blink hard to battle my watery eyes as I push myself to my feet. “I fixed the last module ten minutes ago. I’ll test everything from home.”

  “Goddammit, Cam. Why won’t you let anyone help you?” Lucas pulls hard on handfuls of his dreadlocks. “Can’t you see what you’re doing?”

  “I’m doing my fucking job. I’ve
been doing my fucking job ever since LaCosta moved up the deadline.” Shouting does nothing for my nerves, but I can’t help myself. “I’ve given up nights, weekends, time with West, and even swimming, just so I can finish this project on time. And what have you done? Interview with half a dozen companies so you can leave.”

  Lucas’s voice drops to a whisper. “I put in fifteen hour days this weekend. Ten hours cabling, five hours a night debugging. All to try to save you from yourself.”

  Squaring my shoulders as best I can with the exhaustion weighing me down, I can’t help my harsh tone. “I don’t need saving.”

  “The hell you don’t.” With a huff, Lucas grabs his messenger bag. “You’re so wrapped up in your own shit that you can’t even see that Royce needs you.”

  “Wh-what? Royce doesn’t need shit. He’s made that abundantly clear.” All I can see is Royce’s face as he slaps down the flames searing my skin. The horror in his gaze as he tosses aside the car door that landed on my leg, the plea on his lips I can’t hear because the explosions shattered my ear drums. My knees turn to jelly, but for once, my injuries have nothing to do with the sensation.

  Lucas snorts. “Royce called me last week. Broke down, begged me to talk to you. But you don’t let anyone in, Cam. You know every fucking thing about me—down to how many times I ended up in the prison infirmary. But you? I don’t even know your mama’s first name, your high school sweetheart…or how you got hurt other than ‘diffusing a car bomb.’” He shakes his head, lets out a heavy sigh, and wrenches the door open.

  “By the way…TechLock ran a background check. The reason they wanted to meet today? The recruiter thought there’d been some mistake. When I told her I’d served my time, she tore the offer up right in front of me. Thanks for asking.”

  My world shatters as the door slams shut, but I can’t muster a single tear. Instead, I sink down to the carpet and start to shake. Lucas was the one person I knew would never leave me. Except…now he’s gone, and there’s a gaping maw where my heart should be.