by KB Winters
Heavenly Hacked
Reckless Bastards MC
By USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author
KB Winters
Copyright © 2018 KB Winters and BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC
Published By: BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC
Copyright and Disclaimer
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 KB Winters and BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Contents
Heavenly Hacked
Copyright and Disclaimer
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
More From KB Winters
Acknowledgements
About The Author
Chapter One
Jag
Everything had gone to shit tonight. Everything that could go wrong did, starting with the fucking shootout at Bungalow Three. At least none of the girls were seriously injured. A few scrapes and bruises from flying glass and grabby gangsters but no life threatening injuries. Even Stitch, who’d managed to take a bullet, had a through and through that would heal in time. The doctor we kept on the payroll showed up about five minutes before the law did and was taking care of it. Discreetly.
It was bad enough the Killer Aces and their stupid ass leader, Genesis, had come to town thinking they’d leave with Lasso’s wife and baby. But at the whorehouse, we’d put down a couple members of Roadkill MC, along with a few Killer Aces. Now wasn’t the time but it wouldn’t be long before my club, the Reckless Bastards, had them in our crosshairs. Those fuckers had been playing with us long enough and it was time to make them pay.
“Yo, Jag! Some hottie with blue hair is looking for ya.” The words registered but the voice didn’t, not with so much shit going on. Cops and forensics had showed up and they were taking their sweet ass time looking around. Luckily Lasso and Rocky were already on their way to the hospital after a brutal run-in with her ex. Because there were so many cars, vans and trucks clogging up the place, nothing bigger than a bike would be able to get through.
It shouldn’t be all that hard to find a chick with blue hair. I scanned the cluster of people beyond the crime scene tape until my gaze landed on a halo of bright blue hair. Her skin was pale and appeared deceptively delicate, until I saw the sleeve of tattoos on her left arm, fully on display thanks to a sleeveless Grateful Dead t-shirt. She looked around, her gaze freezing when she finally spotted me.
I didn’t recognize her and as I drew closer I knew I’d never met her before. I would have remembered those unusual gray eyes. “You’re looking for me?” I asked, wary of this bundle of contradictions.
She nodded and her smile was soft, almost affectionate like we knew each other. “I am.” She seemed stunned to see me, which I found odd considering she’d sought me out.
“Look, this isn’t really a good time for you to be here. Who are you really looking for because I don’t know you?”
“No,” she sighed. “You don’t. Not technically.” Her shoulders fell but only for a second before she recovered, once again squaring her shoulders and looking at me head on. “But I am looking for you, Jeremiah. It’s me, Vivi.”
That one word. That name sucked all the air out of my lungs. It was a name I’d like to say I hadn’t thought about in the past almost fifteen years, but the truth was, Vivi had crossed my mind on more than a few occasions over the years. “Wow. Vivi. How the hell are you? What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
She let out a long slow breath and raked a hand through her blue hair. “Not bad but I’ve been better. Do you have a minute?” She looked nervous as hell but good. Healthy. Not strung out. Thank fucking goodness.
I really wished I could stay and chat but too much shit needed to get done and Cross needed my help. “Tonight’s not good for me, Vivi. Where you staying at?” I let out a long breath. It was still surreal to say her name and have her here in front of me. I’d spent the better part of my childhood wishing for that very thing.
“It’s Vegas,” she said simply. “Finding someplace to stay is the easy part. If you get un-busy in the next couple days, give me a call.” She handed me a business card, all black with raised silver lettering. Vivi M. was all it said. “It was nice to finally meet you in real life, Jeremiah.”
Yeah it was. Too damn bad that she hadn’t wanted to meet all those years before. But that was water under the bridge. She’d looked me up because she clearly needed something, and when I had a free moment I’d give her a call and see what that was.
“You too. I’ll give you a call as soon as I can.”
“Yeah, okay.” She said as she turned to walk away. She sounded doubtful, but I had things to do and now wasn’t a good time.
I needed to check on Lasso and especially Rocky. She’d taken a few nasty hits to the face and her pregnant belly and I knew Lasso had to be out of his fucking mind right now.
My club and my brothers were my first priority.
As much as I hated it, Vivi would have to wait.
***
Seeing Vivi had brought up so many memories and made it hard to sleep. Which was what I really needed after the craziness of the past few months. But instead of closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep, I could see it clear as day. The last good memory I’d ever had.
“I just picked up an extra shift, honey.” As soon as I came in from school, Mom was already dressed in her purple scrubs and matching sneakers with hot pink laces. She smiled at me, searching for signs that I was disappointed she was going back to work. Again.
I understood even though I wished she didn’t have to work so hard. “You know I could help out with the bills, Mom.”
She shook her head as I knew she would, her chin-length bob brushing her jaw. “Absolutely not, kid. Even if I worked every day for the rest of my life I can’t afford to send you to any of those schools already sniffing around here. Save the money from your little jobs.”
I grinned because it wasn’t all that little. In fact, it was enough to get me through two years at a top tier college and maybe the full four at a state school. But she never asked so I didn’t tell her. Yet. I planned to let her know the day of my high school graduation. Three years away. “I had to ask even though you’re
a stubborn ol’ mule.”
“Who you callin’ old?” She winked and slipped on the sweater I bought two Christmases ago because she was forever complaining that the hospital was too cold. “There’s stuff in the fridge for stir-fry and your lunch tomorrow. Eat your veggies.”
“Okay, Mom. I hear you.”
She rolled her eyes and kissed my cheek. “Don’t be on that computer all night Jeremiah. Get outside and live a little. Show that beautiful smile to a pretty girl.”
I rolled my eyes because pretty girls looked right through me, but she wouldn’t believe that because she wore mom blinders. Constantly.
“Did you pack a meal for yourself, Mom?”
“Salad and a sandwich. See you later honey. And don’t hack any more government agencies.”
Her laughter stayed even after she was long gone and my shoulders relaxed. Getting caught hacking the FBI could have ended much differently if not for the excuse of my police officer father’s death just two months before they caught me. No one said anything about the forced entries they found prior to his death, much to my great relief. They found I was cheaper than other security experts but it allowed me to sock away a nice college fund.
College was a few years away. Right now, all I wanted to do was to talk to NextGen, also known as NextGen_4@5. She was my best friend even though we’d never met in real life. It didn’t matter because we talked almost every day, voice or text chat. I preferred voice chat but sometimes she couldn’t and she wouldn’t say why. I didn’t push because I knew all about fucked up home situations. Dad was killed three years ago and Mom had only returned to normal this past year.
“Calling NextGen.” The ringing sound was loud in the kitchen where my laptop sat on the far end of the counter while I pulled out the ingredients for the stir-fry.
“Jeremiah, what’s up homie?”
I couldn’t help but grin at her attempts to be cool. “Vivi, I told you never to say that.”
“You said you weren’t offended.”
“I’m not but you sound incredibly … white.”
She paused for a second and I thought maybe I’d pissed her off, something I thought was impossible. Vivi was a tough girl. A bad ass. Then she burst out laughing. “I am actually super white. The old lady next door says I’m practically see through.”
“And when you say homie, you sound it. How’d that intrusion code work out?”
“Great. It took longer than I would’ve liked but I got in and looked around, found some interesting data before adding a back door for later.”
“Untraceable?”
“Is there any other way?” Unlike the girls at my school, Vivi was confident and she had no problems being sarcastic as hell.
“I seem to remember one key time when you did leave a trace.”
“One time! One damn time and you’re never gonna let me forget it!” I could hear the laughter in her voice because we both knew I’d never let her forget.
“One time is all it takes. Believe me, I know.”
“Fine, smart ass. What are you doing?”
“Making dinner. Mom’s workin’ a double. You?”
“Just some scout work for an investigator I know who doesn’t mind hiring a fourteen year old girl.” She was always doing work like that, for guys with no scruples. “Don’t worry, I got half the fee up front like you suggested.”
“Maybe if we meet up in the real world, I could act as your body guard when you meet these people.” Yeah it was a coward’s way to ask her about meeting in person but I wasn’t ready for that kind of rejection.
“Maybe,” she said but she didn’t mean it. “It’s not like either of us can travel on our own.”
That was bullshit. “Well one of us does plenty on her own that she probably shouldn’t.”
“Which is why she can’t have people asking questions about unaccompanied minors staying overnight. I’m sorry Jeremiah, but not now.”
I sighed and nodded even though she couldn’t hear me.
I’d ask her to meet three more times over the next two years. Vivi always said no and when my mom caught a bullet from a deranged shooter in the hospital, I stopped trying.
I took the hint and stopped asking.
A few months later, I stopped messaging and calling her altogether.
Hers was the longest friendship of my life and it mattered more to me than I knew. Until it was gone. But she clearly hadn’t felt the same so when I walked into that Army recruitment center, I put all my thoughts of NextGen behind me and moved on with my life.
My single, solitary life.
Chapter Two
Vivi
The sun was high up in the sky and shining bright as I peeked through the blinds of my hotel room. I was high up enough that I didn’t need to peek but being on edge didn’t just go away because I’d checked into a luxury hotel in the flashiest city in the whole damn country. It was still hard to believe that I’d finally set eyes on Jeremiah after all these years.
He wasn’t quite how I pictured him. He was bigger and taller than I imagined, even when I added on a decade for age and life. His skin was dark and smooth, like mahogany silk and I bet it was just as soft to the touch. But Jeremiah had more muscles than I imagined a computer geek having. But, then again, I’d never imagined him as a solider or a biker.
I only wished it hadn’t taken a shit show of the highest order to finally get me to reach out to him.
But right now the shit show had to take precedence above all else because there was someone—at least one someone—who wanted me dead. This wasn’t your typical, I’m gonna kill you kind of death threat. I was used to those.
As a cyber security expert, and a woman, there was always that guy who got pissed when you breached his unbreachable wall or found the hidden, double encrypted folder he thought he was clever enough to hide in a partition. They always got pissed and then assured me that I’d regret it. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to regret.
This though, this was something different that stemmed from a pretty routine job. I worked with people with the most secrets to hide, massive international corporations. I hated them all, but they paid well to make sure no one could get into their secrets and tell the world. And on occasion I took some fun work just to keep life interesting. My latest was a routine deep dive for a government agency that shall not be named. They gave me the data to sort, clean and back up redundantly before I handed it over in exchange for a big fat … bank transfer. Didn’t have the same ring to it as check but the zeroes were fat enough for a clean getaway.
Like this one.
I’d been sorting and cleaning when I came upon a few photos that some asset whose name I didn’t know had somehow gotten access to and handed over to a handler—whom I knew—but called Bob. And since Bob was a woman, I was pretty sure that was an alias.
Riding from New York to Vegas on my Suzuki V-Strom had given me a lot of time to think about what I’d seen. Given the quality of the break-in that sent me running, it was down to the governor with the underage side piece or the snitching drug lord who met frequently with suits too ugly and cheap to be anything but Feds.
The break-in at my New York apartment was a pro job. Not so good that I didn’t detect it but good enough that someone less paranoid than me might miss the telltale signs. But now as I logged into the camera I’d set up when I started taking off-the-books work for the government—my paranoia at work—I wondered if it was as bad as I made it out to be in my head. But as soon as the feed came to life, I knew that I hadn’t. Not only was I not prone to overreacting but I prided myself for being levelheaded.
The decoy electronics I’d left behind, including a laptop, digital camera, a handful of flash drives and a virus-ridden external hard drive, were all missing. I eagerly rewound the footage to see who I’d be spying on later. My money was on the governor because I assumed a drug kingpin would just blow up the whole building to be safe. Those guys never worried about innocent bystanders; they dealt in certaint
y.
I think.
Going back twelve hours in the footage, I spotted an unfamiliar face. White male, approximately thirty with a bald head and a hint of a tattoo on one hand. Otherwise, he was unidentifiable.
I captured the image and sent it off to one of my sources. I knew it would be the best way to identify him. My source and I were close, but not like friends. It didn’t matter. People like me didn’t need friends, not when I was buried in a task like pulling up remote access on the decoy devices so I could see who had them and maybe even where they were. I’d made extra certain that the person who grabbed the devices would feel safe. The devices hadn’t been turned on, but I’d be alerted when they were.
Another task done, and I looked toward the window again, desperate for a few hours in the sunshine. Maybe poolside. But my life didn’t stop just because I was in danger. I had a couple of private clients I needed to focus on, especially if this current shit show put my security clearance in danger. It was easy work, just doing a regular sweep of the security footage to make sure none of his employees were stealing. It was a pretty solitary life and transferred just as well to a transient one, which made working on the run a cinch.
But even cynical hermits like me got hungry so I put on some clothes and went in search of food. It was early evening and I still hadn’t heard form Jeremiah so it was safe to assume I probably wouldn’t. Not that I could blame him. We were strangers to one another after all this time and if he had shown up on my doorstep, I might not have been as welcoming. In fact, I might have been damned hostile if some strange man came knocking asking for a favor. And it looked like Jeremiah and his friends had enough trouble of their own.
***
As I dug into my steak burger and herbed fries, I grew frustrated with myself. Sure this would probably go a lot smoother if I could combine Jeremiah’s computer skills with my own, but I didn’t need him. I could do this without him and without getting myself killed, so why in the hell was I waiting around for him?
I paid the check and went back to my room. It was time to fight back and for a girl like me that meant gathering intel. People left all kinds of shit about themselves out in the world, particularly on the Internet, especially politicians eager to prove they were as normal as the average Joe.
