Exploited (Zero Day #1)

by A. Meredith Walters

  I had slowly been compiling information about Hannah from the moment I had met her. Secretly cataloging each tiny thing. Because I noticed everything when it came to her. I found myself loving the idiosyncrasies that made her her.

  I had never been like that with anyone before. And I found that, surprisingly, it didn’t scare me. Because she never pressed me for more before I was ready to give it. Unlike Madison, who expected everything, Hannah didn’t expect anything. Maybe that was why I found myself drawn to her.

  Because she had allowed me to get here on my own.

  I couldn’t stop looking at her. I played with the piece of hair that brushed her shoulder, twisting it around my fingers as she drove.

  “I spoke with Charlotte on the phone today. She’s had a rough week, but she sounded better,” Hannah said, and my heart hurt.

  I liked hearing Hannah talk about her sister. But it made me miss Dillon. And a small part of me was jealous that she still could talk to her sister on the phone. She could see her.

  What I wouldn’t give…

  “How has she had a rough week?” I put my hand on her thigh, my fingers curling over fabric-covered skin.

  “She still has seizures. Not a lot, but when she does, they’re bad. She loses her ability to speak. To see. The doctors have to sedate her; otherwise she gets agitated and that’s not good.” Hannah sighed.

  “I’m so sorry,” I told her. She covered my hand with hers and squeezed.

  “Thanks. She’s in a decent place. An expensive place but a good one.”

  “I don’t mean to pry, but how do you and your mother afford her care?”

  Hannah bit her lip. “It’s a struggle. The insurance premiums are ridiculous. We’re fighting all the time to have her care covered. It makes me so angry the way these insurance companies try to deny care to people who need it. Of all the things that are against the law, that should be one of them! What they do is criminal!” Hannah fumed. She was getting worked up. I had never seen her so passionate about something.

  “I agree. It’s not right. I remember after Dillon died, my parents had to pay almost forty thousand dollars in hospital bills that the insurance company refused to cover.”

  “Something should be done about that!” Hannah declared, looking at me, her eyes snapping.

  I nodded. “I agree. I know there’s legislation—”

  “No! You can’t leave it up to the government. They won’t do anything. Sometimes it’s up to the people. Don’t you think?” Hannah was incredibly animated. Like a preacher at the pulpit, she seemed filled with an almost fanaticism. I could tell this meant a lot to her.

  “I’m not sure what people can do against insurance companies, though,” I said slowly, not entirely sure what she was getting at.

  “There are things…” Her voice trailed off and she glanced at me again. “Never mind. I just get so angry thinking about it.” She shook her head. “Ignore me.” She chuckled, seeming self-conscious.

  I squeezed her thigh. “I get what you’re saying. I really do. But we have to trust our government to sort it out. To make it right.”

  She snorted. “You can’t be serious. Trust the government?” She rolled her eyes.

  “Hey, I’m government, don’t forget. You can trust me,” I remarked lightly.

  “Yeah. You are,” she said with a strange note in her voice.

  The mood in the car became oddly tense. I didn’t know why.

  “We’re almost there; close your eyes,” Hannah said suddenly, breaking the mood.

  “Close my eyes?”

  “Yes. Do it. Hurry.” Hannah giggled.

  I did as I was asked. We drove for another five minutes before I felt Hannah turn left, then put the car in reverse, obviously backing into a parking spot. She turned off the engine and then I felt her lips on mine.

  “You can open your eyes now,” she murmured against my mouth.

  “I think I’d like to keep them closed for a few more minutes,” I whispered, cupping her face and deepening the kiss. I felt her tongue invade my mouth and I tangled mine with hers.

  “We need to get inside,” Hannah said with a laugh, pulling away.

  “If we have to,” I said, opening my eyes. I looked around and realized we were in the parking lot of a large old building.

  “Do you know where we are?” she asked excitedly.

  I opened my door and got out. People dressed in nice clothes made their way to the front of the grand building. A lit marquee above the front door said ALTRIA THEATER.

  Hannah handed me a ticket. I looked up at her in surprise. “You bought tickets to Les Misérables?” She nodded.

  I grabbed her arm and tugged her toward me. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her again. Softly this time. Tenderly. My heart felt full. How had I gotten so lucky?

  “Thank you,” I said quietly, kissing her temple, smelling the sweet vanilla scent of her hair.

  “Is it a good surprise?” She grinned, clearly excited.

  “It’s a wonderful surprise.” I took her hand and we walked with the crowd toward the front of the building.

  “I won’t even make fun if you sing along,” she teased, lacing our fingers together.

  I lifted our joined hands and kissed her knuckles. “I’ll try to contain myself.”

  Her eyes sparkled with what could only be joy. “You don’t have to. Not with me.”

  I kissed her hand again. “No. Not with you.”

  Chapter 16

  Hannah

  It was easy to lose track of the endgame with Mason in my life. He was all consuming.

  Everywhere.

  “Are you going to eat that?” he asked, reaching across the table and snatching the rest of my blueberry muffin and popping it into his mouth.

  The Virtuant exploit loomed, but there was Mason Kohler.

  He’s part of the plan, I justified.

  The plan. The plan.

  The plan.

  He’s so much more than the damn plan.

  I felt slightly light-headed as he rubbed his foot against mine beneath the tiny corner table at the back of Nan’s Coffee Shop.

  We continued to meet there every morning before work. It had become a routine. Familiar.

  Just like his lopsided smile and the way he ordered a blueberry muffin, insisting that was all he wanted before snagging half of mine.

  I had learned so much about Mason. And the more I knew, the more I liked him.

  We had fallen into an easy comfort around each other. One born from late-night phone calls and surprise visits to the theater. It had blossomed on the ice of a skating rink and in quick kisses before going to work.

  In the weeks since I had pushed my way into his life, I had come to know a man who was passionate about his work. A man who held on to the memories of his brother with a ferocity I appreciated. A man who demanded respect and who never thought twice about being kind.

  Mason had slowly become the high point of my day.

  Before I was forced to remind myself of his purpose in my life.

  “I guess not anymore.” I pretended to pout, swatting his hand as he tried to take the last creamer from my saucer. “Get your own.”

  Mason grinned and my insides constricted. He was too handsome for his own good.

  For my own good.

  “I can get you another one.” He lifted my hand and kissed my fingers. One at a time. I tried not to sigh like a love-struck heroine in a romance novel.

  “No, that’s okay. I’m full anyway.” I drank the rest of my coffee.

  “My parents are nagging me to come and see them soon.” Mason made a face, letting me know exactly what he thought of the idea.

  “And you don’t want to see them?” I deduced. I had gotten the indication that he didn’t get along with his parents, but he had yet to go into the details.

  There were some things you couldn’t learn by searching through someone’s life online. The nuances of interpersonal relationships didn’t translate int
o text. It sucked having to wait for him to tell me things I wanted to know.

  “No. Not really. Though I feel like I should. They make me feel guilty enough about moving down here and leaving them.” He sounded bitter.

  I put my hand over his. “Why don’t you want to see them?” I was eager to know everything about him.

  Because I’m supposed to. He’s my mark, I reasoned.

  Liar. Why was I even bothering to lie to myself anymore? I could be dishonest with everyone else but not with myself.

  Mason furrowed his brows as if he had a headache. “After Dillon died, they sort of turned on me.”

  “Turned on you?” I asked. He was holding my hand tightly, as if scared I’d run away.

  I’m not going anywhere.

  “That’s the only way to describe it. My mother has always been high maintenance, but she was a good mom. The den-mother-cheering-from-the-sidelines-at-your-basketball-game sort. But when Dillon died—”

  “She changed,” I filled in.

  Mason nodded. “Yeah. She changed. She became depressed. Angry. Everything was my fault. I wasn’t around enough. I should have been there for Dillon more than I was. That sort of thing. And my dad agreed with her. Mostly because he didn’t know how else to handle my mother but to go along with the cruel things she said. They were a unit against me.”

  I got up and went around to the other side of the table and pulled a chair close to his. I wrapped my arm around his waist and laid my head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Mason.” I meant it. I didn’t like seeing him sad. And he was definitely sad.

  “When I got the chance to come to Richmond, I hate to admit that I jumped at the opportunity to get away. I needed the breathing room.” He looked so ashamed. It weighed on him.

  “My mom was sort of the same after my dad and Charlotte’s accident,” I found myself telling him. I felt the need to give him some of my grief to share with his. To let him know he wasn’t alone.

  “Really?” Mason rested his head on top of mine and we sat together so close, hardly aware that there was anyone else in the small coffee shop. We could have been the only ones there.

  That was the danger of Mason Kohler.

  Intimacy.

  “Mom and I were never really close. I had a much better relationship with my dad. Charlotte and Mom were the pair. Then me and Dad.”

  Mason kissed the top of my head. “Daddy’s girl, huh?”

  I chuckled. “Something like that.” Thinking about my father brought the painful ache I was used to.

  I realized those were the only feelings I was accustomed to anymore. The ones that hurt.

  But with Mason it was different. I wanted to give him my history. My story. I knew it was safe with him.

  And it was something real I felt I could give him.

  “But Mom and I never really saw eye to eye after that. We didn’t agree on how to best take care of Charlotte. She dropped the lawsuit against the city for the accident. I didn’t want her to—” I cut off suddenly. I had given him too much.

  Damn it.

  “Anyway, I understand. And don’t feel guilty for protecting yourself when it comes to your parents. The ones we love the most are the ones with the greatest power to hurt us.”

  Mason went very, very still. His jaw became tight and there was a strange look on his face.

  “What is it?” I asked him.

  His expression smoothed out and he gave me a smile, kissing me softly. “Nothing.” He kissed me again. Placating me. “You’re right, though. I shouldn’t feel guilty. But that’s easier said than done.”

  He wasn’t telling me something. Something that bothered him.

  What was he hiding? It bugged me. I didn’t like his keeping things from me. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him about it, but I stopped myself before I could say anything.

  As if I’m in a position to be annoyed by that, I silently chastised myself.

  “So are you going to see them?” I watched Mason closely, wondering what he was thinking. Unspoken thoughts were perilous.

  He held me tight against his side. “I’d rather spend my time with someone who makes me feel good.” He ran a thumb along the side of my face. “Because that’s what you do, Hannah. You make me feel good. And it’s been awhile since I felt that way. So thank you.”

  Shame. It was there ready to smack me in the face.

  “You don’t need to thank me,” I protested, moving away slightly. I had to. The closeness was a threat.

  “It’s true, though. It had to be fate that brought us together that day you dropped your purse on the floor.” His eyes twinkled and the guilt roared.

  Not fate, Mason. Just a devious woman with an agenda.

  “I should get going. You’re not very good for my time lines in the morning, Mister Agent Man,” I scolded good-naturedly, needing to change the subject before I felt even worse.

  Mason looked at the time on his phone and winced. “Damn, you’re right. I had no idea it was that late.” He grabbed his keys from the table and got to his feet, pulling my chair out for me so I could stand. Such a gentleman. “Can I see you later?”

  I gave him a coy look. “What do you think?”

  His smirk was adorable. “I’d say yes.”

  I flipped my hair over my shoulder. “I don’t know. I think I might be busy.” Mason loved flirting. He liked it when I played with him like this. I had learned exactly the right things to do to make him want me. It had become almost too easy.

  What would it have been like to find things out naturally? Honestly?

  I couldn’t think like that.

  Mason yanked me toward him, our chests pressed against each other. His fingers on my chin, he forced me to look at him; his eyes smoldered. “You’ll be busy. With me.”

  I swallowed thickly. His pseudoaggression was such a turn-on. My inner feminist balked at how much I liked it when he took control.

  “Sounds about right,” I whispered raggedly.

  I let him kiss me in front of everyone in the coffee shop, not caring that they stared.

  For the first time it didn’t bother me being the center of attention.

  With Mason, I liked it.

  —

  “Miss me?”

  I jumped in my seat, glancing up to find Kyle standing behind me in the tiny, tiny cubicle.

  I rubbed my eyes. I had been staring at the computer screen for over an hour, not really doing anything.

  I had become completely useless at work. Between my nighttime activities and Mason, I couldn’t care less about the job that paid the bills. Eventually that would be noticed. I needed to get my act together.

  “Hey, Kyle,” I replied distractedly. “Why would I miss you?”

  Kyle’s smile crumpled a bit and I wondered what I had said to upset him.

  “I’ve been gone for the last two days. I thought you if anyone would have noticed.” Kyle’s eyes darkened and then looked sad.

  “I’m so sorry, Kyle. Normally I would have. I’ve just been really focused on this hacker thing. Why were you out?”

  I felt bad. I hadn’t noticed Kyle had been absent from work. Though to be fair, it’s not like we were stuck to each other’s side. I had other things to think about than whether my work buddy was missing in action.

  Kyle pulled up a chair and sat down. “The hacker thing, huh?” Why did it sound like he didn’t believe me? What was that about?

  “Yeah. It’s a big deal, you know.”

  “Is it?” Kyle sounded strange.

  I put a hand to his forehead. “Were you sick? You’re looking a little pale, though I don’t know if that’s just your normal complexion,” I joked.

  Kyle chuckled. “Touché, I guess.” He nudged me playfully in the shoulder. “No, I wasn’t sick.”

  “Oh, playing hooky. You’re such a rebel, Kyle.” I rolled my eyes and he snorted.

  “Just needed some time off. Working on a few things,” he answered vaguely.

  “Any
thing you want to share?”

  “Not really.” Kyle seemed off, but I dismissed it. On top of everything else, I honestly didn’t want to worry about Kyle too.

  I rolled my chair back a few inches, forcing him to drop his hand. “Okay, then. So on to work news: This hacker into the company network is one smart cookie,” I told him. Kyle seemed unimpressed. He barely registered a response. He was being decidedly flat. Unemotional. Had my not realizing he was out of the office pissed him off?

  I had never seen Kyle upset or angry about anything, so it was hard to know if that was how he was behaving.

  “I’m sure he is.” Kyle picked up my phone and flipped it over in his hands. “So, what else has you so distracted? It can’t be just work. You don’t care about it enough.”

  I took my phone from his hands and dropped it into my bag. “Why would anything else be distracting me?”

  “How are things going with the guy you’re seeing?” Kyle flipped his hair out of his face. He looked tired. Like he hadn’t slept in days. Maybe he had been sick. His skin was waxy and his lips were dry. He clearly wasn’t taking care of himself very well.

  I didn’t know much about his personal life. Whether he had friends he hung out with. What he did on the weekends. Maybe I should make more of a point to find out.

  “What about you, Kyle? How are things with you?” I asked him. God, I sounded lame. I didn’t even know how to make small talk. Being a friend was hard work.

  He looked surprised by my questions.

  “Uh, fine. Good, actually.” He brightened a bit, becoming more animated. “Things are going to be really good soon, I hope.”

  “You live with your parents still, right?”

  Kyle ducked his head, obviously embarrassed by my question. “I’m going to move out. Probably by the end of the month,” he answered defensively.

  “No, I didn’t mean that like it’s a bad thing. I just wanted to make sure you’re doing okay. That things are good with you,” I reassured him.

  Kyle looked at me between strands of messy hair. “You want to know if I’m okay?”

  I reached over and squeezed his arm quickly. Platonically. So there was no room for misinterpretation. “Of course. We’re friends. You just look like you could use some sleep. Those bags under your eyes would need to be checked in at the airport.”