Charlotte Ann Whelan.
Abraham Lee Whelan.
Without conscious thought, I filed away the names. Though I wasn’t sure why.
I glanced at Hannah. “Oh, really? I didn’t know Hannah was ‘into’ computers.”
Hannah fidgeted in her seat, not enjoying the attention. “Cory says you got to sit out in the garden today, Char. Is that squirrel family still living in the oak tree?”
She was changing the subject.
“Han has always been obsessed with computers. She used to build her own computer games when she was little. She went to school to be a programmer,” Mrs. Whelan went on proudly, ignoring her daughter’s efforts to talk about something else.
“Wow, I had no idea.” I smiled at Hannah. “But she’s really smart, so it doesn’t surprise me.” Hannah was uncomfortable. She held on to Charlotte’s hand, not looking at me. I didn’t want to make her feel awkward by talking about her as if she wasn’t in the room.
“I’m into computers too; it’s what I did before I was recruited by the FBI. Seems that’s something Hannah and I have in common.”
“I wanted to be a basketball star,” Charlotte said as Hannah cleaned up after her meal.
“A basketball star? I thought you were a gymnast,” I commented. Hannah’s cheeks flushed as she smoothed Charlotte’s blankets over her lap.
Mrs. Whelan frowned. “A gymnast? Our Charlotte? Not likely,” she said and laughed. “Charlotte was the tomboy type, weren’t you, sweetheart?”
“I liked basketball. I miss playing,” Charlotte said.
“My brother was a basketball player too,” I said, a knot forming in my stomach. Mrs. Whelan began to fuss over her daughter and I turned to Hannah.
“Why did you tell me Charlotte was a gymnast if she wasn’t?”
Why did this woman keep lying to me?
Over and over again.
Hannah seemed confused. “I don’t remember saying she was a gymnast. If I did, it was an accident. Charlotte played basketball. Are you sure I said that?”
Now I was starting to question my memory of the conversation. I remembered it had been during one of our first phone calls. I was talking about Dillon playing basketball and Hannah mentioned Charlotte being a gymnast.
I was sure of it.
Was I?
“Charlotte was a basketball all-star at our high school,” Hannah went on proudly, patting her sister’s arm.
I wanted to press Hannah about the gymnast story, but she seemed so unconcerned. Maybe she had never said that. Perhaps I was getting the conversation confused with something else.
She lied to me again.
The voice was yelling again.
But I wasn’t convinced I should listen. Why would Hannah introduce me to her sister and mother if she was being purposefully dishonest?
She lies about everything.
Everything?
The doubt was there again.
I watched Hannah stroke her sister’s cheek lovingly. She picked up a brush from the bedside table and carefully ran it through Charlotte’s hair. She was doting. So gentle.
“I want a new basketball jersey for my birthday,” Charlotte said.
“Oh yeah, which one?” I asked, forcefully pushing past my reservations.
“Her favorite team is the Washington Wizards. She already has three jerseys,” Mrs. Whelan told me.
“My birthday’s next month,” Charlotte announced.
“Really? What day?” I asked her.
“Her birthday’s May twelfth,” Hannah informed me.
May twelfth.
May twelfth.
05/12.
Not able to sit still any longer, I got up and started to tidy up after dinner. I collapsed the pizza boxes and put the leftovers on an extra plate.
Hannah continued to tend to Charlotte, talking quietly with her, giving her sister all of her attention. She had a good heart. That was apparent.
But was it a dishonest heart?
“She’s always been protective of Charlotte. Even before the accident. They were incredibly close. Sure, they fought like all siblings do, but there was nothing Hannah wouldn’t do for Charlotte and vice versa. Losing her father and almost losing Charlotte nearly destroyed Hannah,” Mrs. Whelan confided quietly, wrapping the plate of pizza in a paper towel. “You said you have a brother?” she prodded.
I nodded. “A younger brother, Dillon. He passed away a year ago,” I answered quietly, wiping the grease off my hands with a napkin.
Mrs. Whelan’s face contorted in a shared pain. She put her hand on my arm. “I’m so sorry, Mason.”
I briefly put my hand on top of hers. She was a kind woman. Just like her daughter. I could see where Hannah got it from. “Thank you.”
“Grief changes a person, doesn’t it?” she murmured, gazing at her oldest daughter with an expression that was a mixture of sadness and worry.
“Hannah told me it was a dark time for her after the accident.” I pulled the trash bag from the bin and tied it shut, putting it on the floor to be taken out when we left.
“She was so angry. Especially after the situation with Ryan Law—”
Alarm bells went off in my head.
“Ryan Law?”
Mrs. Whelan nodded. “The firm Ryan Law represented the city when myself and the other families involved in the accident on the highway brought suit. Hannah wanted to make the city and the contractor employed to put the road down pay. She was so mad when I decided to drop our end of the lawsuit. I just couldn’t put our family through that, not after everything we had already been through. Dominic Ryan used some nasty tactics too. It wasn’t worth it.”
I didn’t know what to say. The coincidence was startling. What were the chances that one of the victims of Freedom Overdrive’s exploits just happened to be the corrupt law firm responsible for screwing over Hannah and her family?
“Hannah has always been a bit of a crusader. Particularly after her father died. She would protest corporations she thought were corrupt. She went on and on about corporate greed. When Stanford Pharmaceuticals upped the cost of Charlotte’s medicine, she wanted to go after them too.”
I barely heard what Mrs. Whelan was saying after that.
My ears buzzed, my brain going a million miles a minute. Ryan Law. Stanford Pharmaceuticals.
I was looking for ghosts. I had to stop seeing them everywhere.
I glanced over at Hannah again. She had gotten up on the bed with Charlotte, cuddling into her side. She must have felt my eyes on her because she looked my way. Her smile was so sweet. So full of affection. All for me.
That was real.
That was what I had to focus on.
Lies. Lies. Lies.
They were there, wanting for me to acknowledge them.
“I’m so glad she’s found someone who makes her happy. Hannah needs it. She’s had a rough time,” Mrs. Whelan was saying, watching her girls.
“I’m glad she found me too,” I said.
I cared about her.
Hannah Whelan.
That was what mattered.
Right?
—
“Thank you for coming with me. Even with my mother there, it was a nice evening,” Hannah said once we were back in the car. She was in a good mood. I was trying not to let my suspicion ruin our evening.
Even if I worried she was a liar.
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“Are you okay?” Hannah asked, picking up on my silence.
I put my hand on the back of her neck, my fingers sliding up into her hair. “I’m great. It was a nice evening. Your sister is amazing. And your mom isn’t so bad. A little nosy, but what mother isn’t?”
I massaged the back of her head, loving the way she practically purred at my touch.
Forget about the other stuff.
“I don’t know about Mom, but Charlotte is wonderful.” Hannah sighed as I pressed into the tight muscles of her neck. She turned the car onto her street,
driving slowly.
“And you’re a wonderful sister,” I told her. Hannah pulled into her driveway and killed the engine. It was dark out and she had forgotten to leave a light on outside. The air was heavy inside the car for many different reasons.
Hannah shifted so that she faced me. She reached for me and I went willingly. Our lips met and I could still taste the pizza on her tongue.
“Sometimes I think I could be something so much better. That Charlotte deserves more than I can give her,” Hannah whispered against my mouth.
I deepened our kiss. I wouldn’t think about deceit and strange connections. I would only think about Hannah and what I wanted to do to her.
My hand slipped up her shirt, finding smooth skin. My fingers danced along her ribs, tracing the edge of her bra. I couldn’t wait to get her back to my place.
But she lies. About her job. About her sister. What else isn’t she being honest about?
No!
Stop it!
I kissed her harder. Urgently. I needed her to drown out the voice.
To murder it completely.
I was happy with Hannah.
So happy…
“Why did you tell me Charlotte was a gymnast?” I found myself asking her. I hadn’t meant to question her again, but the accusation bubbled up without my being able to stop it.
Hannah pulled back, her face carefully neutral. “I told you I don’t remember saying that.” She took the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car.
I followed her up to the front door and watched as she fumbled with the lock. I noticed her hands were shaking. What was wrong with her?
“I’m pretty sure you did. It was the night we were talking about Dillon. You said she was a really great gymnast,” I continued, following her into the house once she got the door open.
Hannah’s shoulders were rigid and she wasn’t looking at me. “It must have been a slip. Sorry if you felt I was lying to you.”
She didn’t sound sorry. Actually she didn’t sound like anything at all. Unemotional.
“I didn’t know you and your mother had tried to sue the city after the accident and that Ryan Law represented them. They turned out to be a pretty shady firm,” I went on.
Hannah stood in the foyer, unmoving. “Yeah, well, why would I bring that up? It’s not really important, is it?” She sounded as if she were choking.
On all the lies?
“You tell me,” I prompted.
“What are you getting at, Mason?” she said tiredly, rubbing her temples as if she had a headache. “I thought we had a nice evening.”
“We did.” I sighed. Why couldn’t I let it go? “I guess I’m just being paranoid again.”
“You’re looking for the worst again.” She wasn’t unemotional now. Now she seemed sad.
I took her hands, feeling the way they trembled in mine. I hated myself for not letting it go.
Would I hate myself if I did?
“I’m sorry. I told you I wouldn’t do this, yet here I am.”
Hannah wouldn’t look at me. “Maybe you should go, then. I don’t want you to second-guess me the whole time we’re together. I made a mistake lying about my job. I feel like a total jerk. I don’t remember saying that Charlotte was a gymnast. If I did, I’m sorry. It was a lapse made by a woman trying to protect her heart.”
Her chin drooped and she looked defeated. I didn’t want to be the man responsible for making her feel that way. Because I only wanted her smile. Her laugh. Not her tears and heartache.
I wouldn’t do that to Hannah. Not when I was falling for her.
I wrapped her in my arms, kissing the top of her head.
“I’m sorry, Hannah. I’m not being fair to you. I don’t want to leave. I want to be here. With you.”
But do you trust her?
Yes, I did.
I had to.
I couldn’t give my heart to a woman I didn’t trust. And Hannah was slowly taking mine.
I saw in Hannah the pain and grief that resonated inside me. I also saw a warrior. A woman who refused to be destroyed by defeat and misery. She had lost her father and almost lost her sister, but she fought on.
She was kind and careful.
Secretive but learning to share her life.
When I didn’t think it was possible for me to have a real relationship with anyone, she had blown in and changed that.
Hannah rested her forehead against the hollow of my throat. “God help you, Mason.”
I held her by the shoulders and pulled her back so that we were looking into each other’s eyes. “I don’t care about your job or whether Charlotte was really a lion tamer. I won’t look for the worst. Not anymore. I promise.”
Hannah’s eyes were wet. Why was she crying? I had thought she’d be happy with that.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her.
She didn’t answer. Instead she kissed me. Softly. Deeply. She moaned low in the back of her throat. It sounded as if she were in pain.
“Hannah,” I murmured against her mouth. She kissed me harder. Her tongue tangled with mine.
We fell to our knees in the middle of her hallway. I pushed off her coat. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of my shirt. I grabbed hold of her hand, stilling her for a moment. She looked up at me with glazed eyes. I ran my fingers along her cheek.
“I’m sorry, Hannah. I really am. This thing between us scares me a little because it’s become so damn important to me.” I kissed her carefully. “You’re important to me.”
“You’re important to me too. More than you could ever know,” she said in an agonized whisper, as if she couldn’t bear to admit it.
Then we weren’t talking anymore. In a matter of seconds we shed our clothing and ended up in a writhing heap of skin and heat on the floor. The hardwood was uncomfortable underneath us but we didn’t care.
Hannah gripped my cock, pumping it in her hand. I pressed my fingers inside her, spreading her wide. In and out. Deeper and deeper.
We didn’t speak. The only sounds were breaths and groans. When I was ready to come, she dropped her hand and wrapped her legs around my waist, angling her hips to take all of me.
And I fucked her hard. I fucked her tender.
I fucked her until she cried and cried.
And when she screamed, it was with my name on her lips.
Mine.
Hannah was mine. I was Hannah’s.
The worst would have to wait, because I wouldn’t look for it anymore.
Chapter 24
Hannah
I was like a mouse in a maze. Running and running, yet always ending up back where I had started.
Mason’s questions after seeing Charlotte had rattled me. He seemed to be closing in, whether he realized it or not. My lies were starting to come undone. I was losing the threads and they were dangling in the wind. I couldn’t hold on to them.
And the guilt was starting to consume me. I couldn’t play with his heart anymore.
I was inflicting damage and he had no idea.
I was using him. It wasn’t fair.
Toxicwrath had been right. I was in too deep.
And that hurt most of all.
Because he could never know the real Hannah Whelan. If he did know her, he’d never forgive me.
He’d be forced to arrest me.
And every day he was getting closer to doing just that. Because Mason Kohler was a good FBI agent.
The information from his laptop came flooding into my computer. His emails. His passwords. His browser history. The root kit had given me an all-access pass to his working life.
I saw that he was working on breaking the code of my signature.
He knew they represented dates. He was looking up birth certificates for May twelfth. Important events. He was narrowing the field.
And he knew that Freedom Overdrive was playing with him. My breadcrumbs weren’t fooling him anymore. He had followed up with Bradfield Financial and knew that it was a dead end. He watched ou
r chat, he went after the leads, and he knew.
He started looking for me again. Searching the IRC chat rooms. He’d find me. He was tenacious. He wouldn’t give up. And he was too damn close.
06:45
06:46
The Virtuant exploit was finally coming to fruition. All of the hard work would pay off. The corrupt CEO and his corporation of lies were going down.
It was the middle of the day. Kyle wasn’t at work again, which was just as well because I wasn’t in the frame of mind to handle his weirdness. He had been avoiding me anyway, which would have bothered me, had I spent time thinking about it.
But my head was full of other things.
My mother had called after meeting Mason, just as I had known she would.
“He’s such a nice man, Hannah. Charlotte likes him too. I hope you bring him to see her again. It did her a lot of good,” Mom had gushed.
“Maybe” was all I had said.
Mom hadn’t liked that answer.
“Don’t ruin something good, Hannah. You do that with all your relationships. It’s like you think you don’t deserve to be happy,” my mother had chided me.
“Don’t try to psychoanalyze me, Mom. I just said maybe I’d bring Mason by. Don’t read anything into it.”
“I know you and I know when you’re creating distance. Don’t do that to Mason. He’s right for you,” Mom had implored.
“And you can tell that from meeting him once?” I had scoffed.
“I can tell by the way you look at him and the way he looks at you,” she had said, and I hated how happy that made me.
He was searching and searching for the real thing. He’d never find it with me.
Never.
I had to shut it down.
Mason had been calling and texting for days. Aside from a few brief texts, I hadn’t responded. I knew it was only a matter of time until he tracked me down. He was relentless in all things. Matters of the heart included.
“I can’t see you tonight, Mason,” I told him when I finally answered his call. I had just gotten home. I had to start preparing for the exploit. But I had to do one more thing first.
Something I should have done weeks ago.
My heart began to break slowly. Painfully.
“Okay, that’s fine. Maybe later in the week.” He was at work. His computer continued to dump information. I could see that he was looking up weekend getaways in the mountains. He was planning. I couldn’t let him do that.
Exploited (Zero Day #1) Page 27
