Santa's Pet

by Rachelle Ayala

  “Truthfully?” Lacy brushes her hand over my shoulder. “There’s not a man in the world who wouldn’t care. And if the shoe was on the other foot, there’s not a woman who truly doesn’t care. It’s love, Britt, and when you’re in love, you don’t want to share.”

  “But what about friendship?”

  “Between a man and a woman? You know what they say in ‘When Harry Met Sally?’”

  “Yeah, it’s not possible to be really close to someone else.”

  “Your husband has to be first priority, and I’m betting Ben wants to be your husband.” She touches the angel earrings he gave me.

  “You think? Is that why he’s so angry and snippy?”

  “No man gives family heirlooms to a ‘little bit of fun.’” Lacy says, wearing her usual big-sister-know-it-all smirk. “It’s not an engagement ring, but it comes damn close. Nash says those were the earrings his father gave to his mother when she had a miscarriage before finally getting pregnant with his youngest sister. He told me when I was driving him to his grandfather’s.”

  Tears bubble to my eyes and I swallow again. “Ben never told me what they meant.”

  She squeezes my hand and rubs it. “It means a lot to him to give them to you. Now, you understand how he feels?”

  “I told him I loved him. Over and over, but he doesn’t believe me. What can I possibly do to convince him if he can’t forget my past?”

  “Make him a bet, like I did to Brandon. Tell him he’ll never know if you’ll love him forever if he doesn’t give you a chance.”

  “What about Nash? I’ll miss him.”

  “You won’t ever lose him. He’ll be part of the family, but until Ben feels safe and comfortable, you’ll have to keep him at arm’s length. Nash told me he understood. As for that nasty remark he left you with, that’s just him being a sore loser and a man.”

  “But if I give into Ben’s demands, wouldn’t I forever be walked over?”

  “You’re not cutting off Nash. You told him to back off. It’s up to Ben now, to figure out how to deal with it.”

  “The problem is, he’s unusually hard-headed. He hasn’t even gotten over losing his mother and sister. How’s he going to get over losing me?”

  Lacy snickers. “For someone so smart, you’re really stupid. He hasn’t lost you if you take him back.”

  I shake my head. “No, Lace. It’s not that simple. I let him go. He has to want to come back. As long as he thinks this is a competition between him and Nash, he’s not ready. I’m not going to be pussy-footing around him for the rest of my life. He has to either trust me one hundred percent, or he can go back to the sluts he’s used to.”

  I catch myself and plop my hand over my mouth. Shit. I’m not immune to slut-shaming someone else when it suits my purpose. Damn.

  ~ Ben ~

  Ben stepped slowly back from Grandpa’s hospital bed. The last man he wanted to deal with right now was Nash. He couldn’t stand to see his face, much less hear his country singer’s voice with the nasal twang.

  “Grandpa and Ben.” Nash stepped forward, removing the cowboy hat prop he went around in. “Glad you’re both here.”

  “Actually, I have to get back home and buy groceries,” Ben said to his grandfather. “Is there anything you want? What’s on the allowed shopping list?”

  “Don’t leave yet,” Nash said. “I’ll help you pick some things up along the way.”

  “I don’t need your help.” Ben tried damn hard to keep the hiccup out of his voice. He lowered his head so Nash couldn’t observe his watery eyes and brushed by him to the door. “Bye, Grandpa. I’ll be back early to help you check out tomorrow.”

  Barely glancing in his grandfather’s direction, he slipped into the corridor. He was almost to the parking lot, when Nash jogged to his side.

  “Look, if it makes you feel better, Brittney ended our friendship.”

  “She what?” Hot and cold chills scratched the back of Ben’s neck. “She said she’d never do that. That you’re too important for her.”

  Nash stepped aside and rubbed the back of his neck. “That was before I acted like an ass.”

  “What did you do?” Ben’s muscles tightened, on instant alert.

  “Made a move on her. Whoa, wait. Her sister was there.” Nash held up his hands and ducked. “No hitting in the hospital.”

  At least his worst case scenario hadn’t played out, but why would his own brother betray him like that, and then come to boast about it?

  “You’re upset,” Nash said.

  “Shocked. I never made moves on any girl you or Damon tagged.”

  “That’s because you’re the baby brother.” Nash shrugged. “I really wasn’t that into Brittney. I just couldn’t let you win.”

  Ben swung his fist and choked the hit at the last second, stopping right before he connected with Nash’s pretty boy face. He couldn’t keep using violence if he wanted Brittney back.

  “Good choice.” Nash smirked, stepping back. “You lost Brittney all by yourself. Lacy told me on the way to Grandpa’s house how strong Brittney is. She’d rather have nobody than compromise her beliefs. You’re not going to get anywhere with all your bluster and fighting.”

  Ben shoved his hands into his pockets to control himself.

  “So, now that you know, what’s stopping you from going back to Brittney?” Nash hooked his fingers in his belt loops and rocked on his heels.

  “I can’t ever forget what the two of you did.” Ben’s heart clenched inside his ribcage. He was so close to getting what he wanted. Brittney had ended her friendship with Nash, but it didn’t change the fact that Nash had been inside of her first.

  “Look, I don’t see Brittney as anything more than a friend. It was a convenience thing. She had an apartment and I needed a place to stay without paying.”

  “Please … no more information.” Ben’s shoulders tensed and he clenched every muscle in his body. That wasn’t how Brittney had portrayed it. She’d actually wished Nash would care for her.

  “Can we forget this ever happened? Right now, she’s not interested in either of us.” Nash put his palm up and shook his head. “You’re my brother. We’re not going to fight over a woman. You should have called it, but you were never interested in her, so how could I have known?”

  He couldn’t have known. Of course, Brittney didn’t belong to either of them—like an arranged bride. No, she was her own woman and free to express herself sexually to anyone.

  As for Nash, no matter what a douche he was, he was still his brother. Family.

  Except he wanted to pound him flat. Ben took a deep breath and pushed Nash, not hard. “Half of me wants to kick your ass for taking my woman, and the other half of me knows I’m a fool. She’s not mine and will never be.”

  “Why don’t you call her and explain how you feel?” Nash shrugged as if it were the easiest thing in the world for him to do. “I saw the earrings you gave her. She’s obviously the one for you.”

  Ben’s heart twisted at how much he’d hurt Brittney, leading her to believe he loved her, giving her the earrings and making plans for the future, only to act as if it meant nothing. He’d put his heart and soul into making love to her, and he’d felt it too, until he screwed it up with his fear of losing her. The price of love was grief, and he wasn’t sure he could pay it again—not after losing his mother and baby sister.

  Except he was paying for it now, in spades. Ben groaned and rubbed his eyes. “I wish there was something I could do for her that’ll make me look as good as you.”

  “Why don’t you help with the benefit concert to raise money for her legal fees?”

  “I already offered to pay. She’s not having it. See? She accepts help from you and not from me.”

  Nash always made him feel inferior, even when he wasn’t trying.

  “Then surprise her. You know football players, right?”

  “I know a few.” Ben wasn’t sure where Nash was leading. Even if he helped with the benefit con
cert, Nash would still get all the credit from Brittney’s point of view.

  “Great. I’ll need a few celebrity endorsements. I’ve already put up the ads, set the publicity machine in motion. We’re starting the Anti-Slut-Shaming or A.S.S. campaign and could use some video clips of celebrities against slut-shaming to play at the concert.”

  Ben couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped from his lips. “Ass sounds right. Sure. I can probably get some of my former teammates on board.”

  “Of course you can. And you know what? Us guys should be anti-slut-shaming asses, because we love girls who love sex, don’t we?”

  “Uh, yes. I guess.” Ben wasn’t sure how getting a few football players to do video clips would help him get Brittney back. He had to do something bigger than Nash.

  “Great.” Nash clapped an arm around him. “Hey, we Powers boys gotta stick together. We’re already big asses, so A.S.S. is the right cause for us to support.”

  “Especially if it helps Brittney and her legal fees.” Ben pasted on a grin, even as he cast in his mind for something to upstage Nash.

  “Cool, let’s do it.” Nash tipped his hat and suddenly, Ben knew why he was a country super-star and celebrity. Charm and the ability to forgive. That and not holding grudges.

  “Thanks, Bro.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  ~ Brittney ~

  Days go by with no news from Ben. At least Nash texted me on Friday to let me know they had taken his grandfather home to the sprawling farmhouse. He says Grandpa’s doing well, getting help with his diet and exercise and recovering slowly.

  I didn’t bother asking Nash how Ben was doing. Ben knows where to find me, and if he doesn’t care to contact me—wants to pretend we have nothing to do with each other, then I’m certainly not going to be the one groveling for his attention.

  Instead, I’ve been glued to my laptop, trying to trap the hacker. I lost my best chance a few days back when they’d opened the hole. I almost had the worm uploaded. Now I can’t even get back in. Could someone have tipped off the hackers? Since they shut Samantha’s tunnel, it definitely has to mean something—either she’s guilty or someone who’s been to her apartment went back and closed the hole.

  I’m pissed now. Sean Rodgers, my security guy, isn’t doing anything useful. I punch his number on my cell phone.

  “Hey, Britt, how’s it going?” His voice is as jocular and carefree as a beach bum surfer. Doesn’t he give a shit about the security breaches and the lawsuit?

  “How’s it going? I should ask you. What happened to your security audit? How was it you never caught the hacker coming into our network? Did you know someone was tunneling into Samantha’s router?”

  “Sorry, I can’t talk to you about this. Marlena’s the boss and she says you’re the one doing the hacking. We caught an intrusion from your IP address last week.”

  “I was trying to figure out who the hell hacked in.”

  “Yeah, well, explain it to Marlena.” His voice is still lackadaisical. I can picture him sitting in the bullpen with his feet on the table, scratching his stinky pits.

  “Tell her she should be nailing the real hackers.” I end the call, wishing like hell I could throw my phone at the wall.

  So, I hit a dead end. So my life is in shambles. So I have no friends, not Nash, not Sean, not even Samantha.

  I’m just going to have to be more clever about this. Think. Think. Think. I tap my keys and go through my notes on last year’s hack job. Someone had to have left a hole. Is my honeypot still set up? I’m not sure anyone took it down. Would the hackers be stupid enough? I log into my walled garden network and root around. It sure looks like no one has cleaned it up. From there, I might be able to hop back into Shopahol and continue with my investigation.

  I must have been deep in the code for hours, because when I look up, it’s evening. I just finished planting traps for the hacker, loads of interesting looking purchases from fake customers that sound like movie stars, politicians, and athletes. Now, all I have to do is wait for the hacker to step into the trap. When he or she opens the fake customer profiles and attempts to hijack the data, my tracker will log all their activity, including tracing them to their MAC address, the one that uniquely identifies their network interface card.

  My apartment door thumps and the aroma of barbeque wafts toward me. It’s my pregnant sister who’s now in the food delivery business. Today’s haul, pulled pork sandwiches and steak fries.

  “You still at this?” Lacy drawls as she places the greasy paper bags in front of me. “I’m lucky I’m eating for two, but what’s your excuse?”

  “Have hackers to catch.”

  “How about a hunky football player? Why aren’t you out catching him?”

  “He knows where to find me. I’m not the one with misplaced priorities.”

  “If you say so.”

  The logs go across my screen. Is no one at work, or has the hacker given up? If so, I may never find him, and I’ll forever look like the guilty one.

  “Eat, eat.” Lacy peels open a foil wrapped pulled pork sandwich, which has my mouth watering.

  I can’t remember the last time I ate. I can’t even remember the date. As long as I keep my mind on catching the hacker, I won’t have to think of anyone else—least of all He Who Shall Not Be Mentioned. Except every time I try not to think of him, my mind floods with memories, images, scents, and tastes of him.

  I bite into the sandwich and watch the screen.

  “I’m getting tired of you ignoring me,” my sister says. “Look at you. Have you slept? Washed your hair? Gone outside? You’re going to get blood clots sitting here all day long.”

  Her words flow over me like pieces of confetti. I need to not think about anything. Not care about my appearance. Not go out. Not feel my heartbeat. Not live. Because if I’m honest with myself, I’m hurt badly. I stopped counting the days, the hours, the minutes waiting for him to call me, text me, or visit. He knows where I live. He knows how to get ahold of me, but he chooses to pretend I don’t exist. How could I have been so wrong and thought he cared for me?

  I touch the earrings to reassure myself they’re still dangling. Why’d he give them to me if I mean so little to him?

  Suddenly, lines and lines scroll onto the screen. Someone is accessing the fake customer profiles, and it’s coming from within the company.

  “Snagged!” I pump my fist at the flashing computer screen. “I got him. Look, Lacy, look. He’s opening the bomb I planted. I’ve got the socket, the port, the MAC address. Snagged by my bomb!”

  “Snagged juicy bomb,” the cockatoo, Big Blizzard, cheers from the cage. “Hello!”

  “Yes! Snagged! Woohoo!” I jump up from my chair and dance around the kitchen table.

  “That’s great,” Lacy says. She goes to Big Blizzard’s cage and says, “Say, ‘Brittney loves Ben.’”

  Is this all my sister can think about at a momentous time like this? “I got the hacker! Who cares about Ben?”

  “You do.” She munches on a steak fry and feeds the rest of it to the bird. “Brittney loves Ben.”

  “Bree-ney love Ben. Arck!” the dumb bird repeats.

  “How about ‘Brittney is Santa’s Pet?’” Lacy suggests. “Santa’s Pet.”

  My mood is too good to let my sister sabotage it. I rub my hands together as the seconds tick by. “They should be closing the hole any minute now.”

  The FBI had promised to secure the network as soon as they snatched the culprits. I keep my eyes on the rolling log, waiting, waiting.

  It stops moving, and the last message says, Good job, Brittney Reed. Congratulations from Marlena Morley.

  “Marlena Morley!” both me and my sister exclaim.

  I stare at Lacy and she stares back.

  “Did you really catch the hacker or is she the hacker thumbing her nose in your face?” Lacy asks.

  “I have no idea.” I call my FBI contact.

  “We’re sending someone to your place to p
ick up your laptop and confirm the kill,” the agent says.

  “Is Marlena the hacker?” I tell him about the cryptic message.

  “No. Marlena is the agent hunting a gang of notorious and dangerous hackers. We now have the evidence and caught them red-handed. Good job, Miss Reed,” the contact says.

  While I’m on the call with the FBI, Lacy receives a call from Brandon.

  She taps me on the shoulder. “Brandon just called. He’s on his way over here. He’s happy we caught the hacker.”

  “Does he know who it is?” I ask after hanging up with the FBI agent who refused to tell me more.

  She puts her phone on speaker. “Did you know Marlena’s an FBI agent?”

  “Of course I did,” Brandon says. “I stepped away to let her in so the hackers wouldn’t suspect anything. I was onto them, but let them believe they framed me and got Jewell’s wind up.”

  “Who?” I can’t catch my breath. “Is it someone we know?”

  “Actually, it is,” Brandon says. “I’m right outside your apartment. Is Lacy sitting?”

  “Uh, yes, but what’s going on?” I march to my door and open it.

  Brandon taps to hang up. He walks toward Lacy and hugs her, kissing her lightly on the lips.

  She pushes him. “Who? Why should I be sitting down?”

  “Sit. Both of you.”

  I cast in my mind. “It can’t be Mom or Dad. They don’t know anything about computers. Samantha’s safe since she was at work when the hackers accessed the tunnel. Ben doesn’t know anything about computers. Grandpa Powers? I can’t think of anyone else we know who has a motive.”

  Brandon presses Lacy onto the sofa and puts his arm around her. Okay, so, it might be someone Lacy knows. Could it be Jazzy, her friend with the escort service?

  “Samantha’s being arrested right now,” Brandon says.

  “Sammie? Our Sammie?” I stand, my hands flapping in panic. “That’s wrong. She was at work when the hacker used her username and tunneled into the code.”

  “True, but she can’t prove she wasn’t in cahoots with them.”

  “What about that guy she was sleeping with?”