Tucked away in a corner was a gamers’ paradise. A big screen TV, a wall of monitors and three towers.
Bingo.
This was where he’d fine it.
It had to be here somewhere. And once he found what Speckles wanted, he could have a little fun. What was the point of breaking and entering if he couldn’t leave his mark?
“You really think my place is dangerous?” Andrea handed Zain her keys.
“I’d rather be safe than sorry.” He shifted the rental car into park then took her keys.
“The blue key. You don’t seriously think I’m in danger here, do you? That stuff was at the con. Hundreds of miles away.” She was clinging to the hope that the attack, the fliers, were some random asshole who hated the game, that it wasn’t a personal attack. And she was ready to change into clean clothes. Her clothes. Stuff that fit. “You’re being paranoid.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“Fine. Suit yourself.”
Andrea cradled her latte and sat back, content to watch Zain’s backside as he walked to her front door. The apartment was a point of pride for her. The first true mark that she’d succeeded as an adult. It was small, but it was hers, and she’d managed well enough on her own. Unlike Crystal, Andrea hadn’t come from money. She’d had to scrape things together for school. Somehow, it’d all worked out. At least until now.
She glanced at the clock and sipped her drink.
Five minutes should be plenty of time for him to poke around her place unsupervised.
Thank goodness, she’d actually cleaned before leaving, or else she didn’t know what he’d find.
Her phone buzzed.
Zain’s name flashed on the screen.
Crap. Had the water heater sprung a leak again?
She answered the call, one eye screwed up.
“What’s the damage?” she asked.
“Lock the doors and call the police.” His tone was...cold.
She swallowed.
“What?” she sat up, staring at her open front door.
“Lock the doors. Call 911.”
“Zain—what’s wrong?”
No, not again. Not here...
“Someone has been here,” he said.
“What do you mean?” She reached across to the driver’s door and pressed the lock button.
“Someone trashed your place.”
His tone was hard, different. He’d sounded like this when she was attacked, when she was in danger.
“Andrea?”
“Calling 9-1-1 now.” She swallowed hard. What about Crystal? Was she okay? Or was this the sort of normal break-in? She’d never once in her life thought she’d pray that someone had just broken in and stole stuff, but she was now.
Andrea made the 9-1-1 phone call in a blur, her gaze locked on the front doors. The poor operator had to ask her the same questions two and three times apiece for her to stammer out a response.
What if Zain was in there with whatever person had broken in? And what did he mean by the word “trashed”? Did he mean destroyed, or had she left her place a bit of a mess? He could be confusing her lack of decorating style with robbery.
“I’m going in,” she blurted to the operator.
She scrambled out of the car, up the walk and through the front door in a daze. It was a blur.
And then she saw it.
What trashed really meant.
“Demolished” was more like it.
Her sofa was shredded, the stuffing pulled out. Everything on the walls had been literally ripped off, in some places even chunks had been taken out of the drywall. The flat screen TV was on the floor, the screen cracked. Everything was overturned.
It was her hotel room all over again.
Only worse.
Because she lived here.
This was her safe place.
Her home.
She dropped her hand to her side and stared.
This...this wasn’t right. And it was all over a game? What was wrong with people?
What if they were still here?
“Zain?” she called out. He could be hurt or in trouble. “Zain?”
“Andrea?” Footsteps thudded on the stairs.
She crossed the living room, wading through years of stuff. Relief flooded her as he descended into view.
“I told you to wait in the car,” he said. He clearly wasn’t happy she was there and—was that a gun in his hand?
“I—Just—I mean...”
“9-1-1?” He shoved the gun into his waistband, then reached for her cell.
He had a gun.
How long had Zain been carrying that?
And when was the last time she’d seen a real, live gun? Because she seriously doubted that was a toy or a prop of some sort.
She turned in a circle. Broken picture frames, cracked plates—it was all destroyed. Years of her life, keepsakes, sentimental pieces. As good as gone. She sat down on the bottom stair, vaguely aware of flashing lights and the cops’ arrival.
This was over a game. Something they’d created for fun. And now she was a target. Why? What was so important about D7 that it meant ripping her life apart? Games were her world, and even she couldn’t understand this. She’d thought she’d seen the worst the gaming world had to offer, but now she had a front row seat to just how bad it could be.
“I didn’t know which one it was, so I took them all.” Kevin unzipped the small, rolling suitcase on the table and unzipped it, ensuring the drives hadn’t broken in transport.
“Them? How many were there?” Speckles sighed into the phone.
“You said to get her external. She had at least a dozen of them.”
“Fuck.”
“Do I want to know what you’re looking for?”
“Better if you don’t.”
“When do you want to meet?” Kevin zipped the suitcase and let them be.
“It’s probably best if we don’t. Put it in the locker and I’ll do a pick up in the morning”
One more task complete, another phase of their plan done. With Andrea suitably shaken, it was time to turn his attention on the other one. Crystal. The loud-mouthed one.
Too bad she hadn’t been at the conference. She was much easier to rile up when goaded, as proven by how quickly things escalated on-line in the comments section. Had she been present, there’d been much more of a spectacle at the booth and party. He hadn’t been able to scrounge up pictures of her, but knowing how Crystal reacted when Andrea was picked on—her reactions would have been gold.
“Kevin?”
“Hm?”
“We’re going to set up for the Trojan phase.”
“I thought we weren’t doing that.” He stared straight ahead.
“I know, but things have changed. It’s necessary now.”
“I see.” Kevin owed Speckles. He owed him his life. This was only fair. “I’ll handle it.”
He ended the call, staring straight ahead.
Years ago, he’d made this promise, a promise he now had to make good on. He didn’t regret it, but damn if this wasn’t going to suck. Still, he’d do anything for Speckles.
Anything.
Zain chucked the bag of ruined stuff out onto the stoop. The pile of things on top of the ruined sofa was easily as tall as he was. Between himself, Andrea, Crystal, and a few friends, they’d managed to excavate the worst of it. There wasn’t much left to be salvaged.
He hurt for Andrea.
In all his time, he’d seen maybe one revenge job that equaled this level of hateful destruction to property. What was more, the break-in only confirmed his fear.
Whoever was behind this was connected to Grunge and Dark Matter Games.
It was someone she knew.
It had to be.
The only people who’d known they were leaving had been at the booth that morning. It was a short list of people. Maybe seven names, outside of the girls.
What he wouldn’t give to be able to fly back and question every one of
those people himself—but he couldn’t leave Andrea. Letting her out of his sight was not happening.
The cops were skeptical the two incidents were connected.
Andrea’s games and computer were missing.
It was enough surface evidence for the patrol officers to decide it was a simple B&E. But Zain wasn’t buying it. And neither were Andrea or Crystal. They’d already called a detective by the name of Bowman who’d been working on their harassment case, but the man wasn’t on-shift today. Zain had a to-do for later to look the guy up, see if he couldn’t push some evidence his way. A little support from the cops could help a lot.
All day Zain had listened to the back and forth between the girls, the names, how they spoke of certain people on his short list of suspects.
They were still focused on the game.
He wasn’t so sure D7 was the reason behind what was going on. Maybe it’d provided an opportunity, but this smelled of something bigger. Something more than just hating a game and the girls, though it was painted in that light.
Money was the number one driving force behind things, in Zain’s experience. A great many people would do horrible things for the sake of currency. Revenge, personal vendettas, they were another. Beyond that, he could speculate other sources of contention, but it wasn’t adding up. It kept coming back to the money.
It was getting late.
They’d need to eat soon, and after today, Andrea was going to fall into bed again. She was physically and mentally worn out. Maybe worse than before, because up until now the physical threat was limited to the convention. Now it’d followed her home.
He approached Crystal and Andrea where they were standing in the cleared-out kitchen. He figured they had a day or two before the apartment complex asked her to vacate so they could complete the extensive repairs.
Crystal speared him with a none-too-friendly gaze.
Andrea glanced at him, her brow creased, the corners of her mouth turned down. He doubted they’d been talking about redecorating.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“One of Crystal’s inside-outside cats has gone missing,” Andrea said.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Shit. He didn’t like the sound of that. So far, whoever was behind this was after Andrea, not Crystal, but he doubted that would last. Who’d Crystal’s family hired for security? He’d have to look them up and have a chat. With someone after the girls, a missing cat was not a missing cat.
“October was a stray. Sometimes she goes wandering around the property and doesn’t come back,” Crystal said, but there were notes of stress in her voice.
“I was just saying—maybe I could go help look for October?” Andrea glanced at him. Her intentions were good, but exhaustion weighed on her.
“We could do that.” He nodded. “Sooner rather than later. Once it gets dark, I want you indoors.”
“Dad has people looking for October. I’m trying to not worry.” Zain knew Crystal came from money, it was evident in the financial reports he’d pulled and the vlogs he’d watched. It was the way Crystal talked about things and people. There was always someone to do a job. Like look for her cat. It wasn’t wrong, it was just a different way of living.
“How does a cat get named October?” he asked.
“It started as a joke with Miss May, but after her the cat’s first names are the month they came to live with me. They each end up with about four or five names depending on their personality and how much they’ve pissed me off lately.” Crystal grinned. “You guys want to crash at my place?”
Andrea glanced from Zain to her friend.
“I think we have that covered,” she said.
They did?
Zain pulled out his phone, making a non-committal noise.
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Crystal stared at Andrea. “We good?”
“Yeah.” Andrea smiled too bright and hugged her friend.
Zain stood by, holding his questions until Crystal was out the front door. Andrea slumped against the kitchen counter, hands over her face.
“Yes, I just lied,” she said, voice muffled.
“Want to tell me why?”
She dropped her arms to her side, the pitiful look on her face even more heartbreaking.
“Promise not to say anything?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“I mean, anything—anything.”
“Promise, and whatever you tell me is guaranteed in our contract to remain private.”
“What else does that contract say?”
“Want me to give you the overview?”
“Later.” She sighed. “Crystal is back with her girlfriend. The bitchy one that just sucks the life out of her and I’m so...” Andrea clenched her hands into fists. “I’m frustrated. I don’t want to stay there because she’s just going to try to convince me Patricia is a good person. And she might be, but I just...I hate how Patricia projects her issues onto Crystal, and then Crystal will get depressed, and they’ll fight, and there will be screaming, and the cats will start stress shedding, and work gets off schedule, and I hate watching it and not being able to stop it.”
“I...didn’t know Crystal was a lesbian.” Now he had other questions. Like...had Andrea ever considered it?
“Don’t look at me like that.” Andrea thrust her finger in his face. “No, before you ask, I’m not into women. I kissed Crystal once when we were stupid drunk after we’d just met and it was like I was kissing my mom. I don’t ever want to think about it again. And Crystal’s not a lesbian. She’s bisexual, but her parents have asked her to keep it quiet until her grandparents kick the bucket to keep the peace. It’s a thing. Like, A Thing. And I just—I don’t want to talk about Patricia or any of that right now. I just...”
“Come here.” He pulled her against his chest, hugging her to him. “I get it.”
She squeezed him tight and buried her face in his chest. On one level, he could relate. The last two years with Mason hadn’t been a cakewalk either. His issues and Crystal’s were completely different, but he knew what it was like to be stuck in the backseat, while someone you cared about made a series of wrong turns.
“My cousin made some tough choices he couldn’t tell our family about. It drove a deep wedge between them for a while. I knew the whole story, I knew they had the wrong picture of what happened, and if they knew what I knew, they’d have been on Mason’s side. But I couldn’t tell them, because I shouldn’t have known, and my cousin didn’t want them to know. He...did a lot of things because of how isolated it made him.”
“How is he now?”
“He’s good. He’s dating our boss’ daughter. It’s been quite the amusing turn of events.”
“The cousin you told me about on the plane?”
“The same one.”
“Are things okay with your family?”
“Yeah. Eventually he told them enough of it that they understood. Most of my family has been in the Navy, so they know more than an average person would when it comes to reading between the lines.”
“Mason, that’s his name?”
“Yeah. We’re not much alike, but he’s a good guy.”
“What am I going to do about this place?” Her voice was slightly muffled by his shirt, her body warm against his.
“I’m sorry this happened.”
“You were right, though.”
“I didn’t want to be.”
“But you were.” She pulled back, just enough to look up at him. “I haven’t taken your advice once. I keep doing what I want to do, and it’s been the wrong thing each time. So. What should I do?”
“It’s getting late. We should get what you think you’ll need, or what we can salvage and get a hotel for the night if you don’t want to stay with Crystal. Tomorrow, the police might know more. Miranda is giving me access to the company records and network so I can try to track down whoever had access to the security feeds, so there’s a good chance I’ll narrow our suspect pool.”
/> “You still think its Cliff.”
“He has the financial motivation to want you and Crystal out of the picture. And nine times out of ten, these things are motivated by money.”
“The rest?”
“Sex.”
“Sorry I asked.” She let go of him and turned to face her little dining and living room area. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to go upstairs. I just want to leave.”
“Then let’s go. We can stop somewhere, get you some clothes, eat and be in by the time the sun’s setting.”
“What about Crystal?” She turned.
“Her family has extensive security on site. It’s not out of the question for someone to try to attack her, too, but less likely it will work out. Maybe if she’s out by herself, but from the sound of it, she hadn’t left her house since this started.”
“No, Crystal’s cat is sick.”
“How many cats does she have?”
“You don’t want to know. Usually it’s something like nine, but it could be more.” Andrea chuckled.
“Okay, I’ll lock up and we can head there after food.”
“She’d feed us.”
“You want to eat there?”
“Not really.”
“Then we’ll pick something up.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll get the lights upstairs. Want to start the car?” He was all for keeping Andrea behind as many locks as possible.
“Sure.” She grabbed the car keys off the counter. “There’s a really great burger place across the street from an Old Navy. I can get stuff there, if that works for you.”
“Perfect.” He caught her hand, the keys clasped between their palms, and reeled her in for a quick kiss. Just because. Because he wanted to. Because she trusted him. Because with her he was more than just the guy behind the computer screen.
She grinned and ducked her head, pushing her hair off her forehead.
“Go on.” He pushed her toward the door.
Zain took the stairs two at a time. The upper floor was an open room and held what would have been her bed and office area. Andrea hadn’t ventured up here besides the first walk through with the cops. He could tell seeing her gaming and work set-up trashed hurt more than she was letting on. And that made sense to him. It spoke to an elemental part of himself. Both he and Andrea were techies. Stuff was stuff, but their computers, laptops—that was what their lives were built around. And now not only had her body been violated, but what she loved most.
Dangerous Games (Aegis Group, #3) Page 14
