Darkest Night

by Megan Erickson

  He took a deep breath. “All of this we know because Flynn told Erick. The rest of what we know is based on what I pulled from Flynn’s hard drive after he died.” He tapped away again, pulling up several screenshots. “Flynn inquired about the result of his zero-day findings with Saltner in an e-mail dated December 18, two months before his death. The response was from Saltner himself, who said QS had been notified. A month went by, and Flynn did some checking on his own, discovering the vulnerability hadn’t been fixed. He contacted a friend, Matthew Dominguez, who is an employee at QS, and he informed Flynn that QS was never told about this vulnerability. They dug deeper and found that the zero-day was being sold on the black market for three million dollars.”

  The room filled with whispered curses. Even Dade winced and rubbed his face with his hand. The black market for hackers was infamous. Anything and everything was up for sale—credit card information, IDs, and zero-day vulnerabilities that even a low-level hacker could exploit for financial gain.

  Jock spoke up, his voice gruff. “So Saltner put the zero-day up for sale rather than taking it to QuartzSoft and collecting their paltry bounty.”

  “QS offers like… maybe five figures for their zero-days,” Erick said.

  He pulled up a picture of a young man with glasses. “That’s Matthew Dominguez. During his last conversation with Flynn, my brother informed him that the seller was Saltner. Their code name for Saltner was Evelyn, after the Angelina Jolie character in Salt.”

  Roarke pressed another button, swallowing around the lump in his throat and breathing through the tightness in his chest. The images on the wall went dark. “That was the last communication from either of them. Three hours later, Matthew was killed in a single-car crash. And approximately six hours after that, Flynn was found with a bullet in his head.”

  Marisol shook her head while Dade stared at the blank wall. Wren was crying silently, her shoulders shaking. Erick stood behind her, biting his lip while rubbing her shoulder. And Jock looked…Well, his face never really changed, but there was something like anger simmering beneath his tanned complexion.

  Roarke wanted to take his computer and throw it against the wall. Instead he quickly deleted the files permanently from his hard drive.

  He took a minute to get himself under control while his team processed this information. Then he raised his head and spoke around gritted teeth. “I brought you all together because you are the most talented hackers I know. Whether I trust you with my life”—he glanced at Dade, who kicked up his lips into a smirk—“is another story, but it doesn’t matter, because I trust you with code. When I recruited you to this team, you all agreed you wanted revenge for Flynn, and that’s what we’re doing.

  “The mission is twofold. First, we need to find out if the zero-day sold, because if it has, we have a lot of vulnerable people. Then we get dirt on Saltner and take him down.” Just saying the guy’s name tightened Roarke’s chest. “This is dangerous, possibly deadly, and I understand if you want to walk out that door right now. This is your chance, no judgment, to back out and go on with your life.”

  He closed his eyes slowly and opened them to level a look at Wren. Part of him wanted her to stand up and walk out. She didn’t have to get in deeper with Darren. This could all go away for her. She could be safe.

  But the other part of him, the part he wished he could delete off his hard drive, was the bit of him that wanted her to stay because, now that she was back in his life, he didn’t want to let her go.

  She met his gaze steadily, and he wondered if she could see his emotions swirling in his head like a two-toned tornado. Her eyes were dry now, staring back at him with that same defiance she’d shown in the parking lot. She stood up, jerked her chin into the air, and mashed a fist into the table. “I’m in for Flynn.”

  His emotions warred in his heart—having Wren stand up for Flynn was a beautiful thing to see, but knowing this would put her at risk made him want to slam his head into a brick wall. Instead, he nodded at her, and she nodded back, flashing him a brief smile.

  One by one, the rest of the team stood up, echoing her and saying, “I’m in for Flynn.”

  Dade hadn’t moved from where he stood, still staring at that spot on the wall where Roarke had projected images to plead his case.

  As his team waited silently in the underground room, their fists on the table and their words reverberating off the bare walls, Dade strode over to the table. He licked his lips and brought his fist onto the table with a crash. “In for Flynn, too. So when can we get this motherfucker?”

  Roarke smiled.

  * * *

  Gathering the team was the easy part. Formulating a plan? Not easy.

  It really was like herding cats. Roarke hadn’t chosen the team members for their cooperation skills. Hackers were notoriously solitary, egotistical, and resistant to authority. He quickly reworked his leadership strategy because lording over them like a master coder was only going to piss them all off.

  He had a tentative plan to reach Saltner, but the inclusion of Wren made their job easier, as much as he didn’t want to admit it.

  “So lemme get this straight,” Marisol said, tapping her long nails on the table where they all sat. “Pretty bird here is our foot soldier. She’s gonna peddle her ass to Darren—”

  “There’ll be no ass peddling,” Roarke growled.

  Marisol lifted her eyebrows but kept talking. “And get dirt to use against Saltner.”

  Erick cleared his throat. “We want to ruin the fucker. Wren getting in with the family will give us access to information we can’t get remotely.”

  Roarke watched Wren carefully, scanning her body for any sign of nerves. When he saw her fingers shake a little before she clasped them and shoved them into her lap, he was relieved. Nerves were good; it meant she understood what this meant, that it wasn’t some game.

  It still didn’t ease his conscience over her being involved though.

  Dade leaned back in his chair and laced his hands behind his head. “Is the ultimate goal to make Saltner disappear or to turn him over to the police?”

  “Police,” Roarke said quickly. “As much as I want to tie cement blocks around his ankles and throw him in the middle of the fucking Atlantic, I care more about watching him go down for a computer crime or homicide.”

  “So we’re going to gather information on him, showing he committed a crime, and hand it over to the police?”

  “That’s the plan.” Dade knew of Roarke’s refusal to kill anyone. Roarke had been close once, so close to doing it, and he wondered all the time whether he would have regretted it if Mother Nature hadn’t taken care of it for him first.

  Dade narrowed his eyes. “You’re willing to trust the justice system to get revenge for your brother?”

  Roarke clenched his teeth. After what he’d done in his teens, he’d vowed to be as lawful as possible. Killing Saltner was pretty far off that vow. “I have to. I just have to.”

  Dade was silent for a long moment. “And what if we can’t pin anything on him?”

  Roarke rapped his knuckles on the table. He’d deal with his morals if that was the only way they could take Saltner. “Then we figure something else out.”

  Dade smiled, his evil grin sending chills down Roarke’s spine.

  Marisol was watching Dade with raised eyebrows. “Well, aren’t you a scary mofo.”

  Dade blew her a kiss, and Marisol ran her tongue over her lip seductively.

  “Christ,” Roarke said. “You all need to get laid, then come back. The hormones in here are making me antsy.”

  “You’re just mad Korean Princess over there has a date with your sworn enemy.” Marisol looked at her nails, refusing to make eye contact.

  “Okaaaay,” Erick interrupted, which was good, because Roarke wanted to throttle Marisol with his bare hands. “Let’s all go home, get some rest, and come back tomorrow same time.”

  Jock was the first to get up, probably over the shit show that
was forcing him to be around people. Marisol shrugged and hopped off the table, linking arms with Wren as they walked to the door. Wren glanced back at Roarke, but he couldn’t read her face, and within seconds she was out the door.

  He blew out a breath and tugged on his hair. Across the table, Dade was watching him intently. “This could be bigger than Saltner, you know.”

  Roarke nodded. “I realize that.”

  Dade opened his mouth like he was going to say more but then closed it. “All right then.”

  “I don’t have the answers. And I don’t even have a solid plan,” Roarke said. “I know that’s fucked up, but Flynn is dead, I have a trail, and I’m going to fucking follow it until I can’t anymore.”

  Dade chewed his lip before standing. “I understand. See you tomorrow.” He nodded at Erick before opening the door and letting it slam shut behind him.

  Roarke steepled his fingers and squinted at his best friend. “Why do I have this sinking feeling in my stomach?”

  Erick kicked a chair leg in front of him. “Because this is a clusterfuck.”

  “You were supposed to say, ‘Gee, Roarke, this is all going according to plan.’”

  Erick snorted and glanced up, blinking through his bangs. “You know I’m not happy about this Wren thing either, right?”

  “I know.”

  “But this is her choice.”

  “I know that, too.”

  Erick was quiet for a moment. “We can protect her. But I think…she’s gotta do this. For herself. No matter the outcome.”

  Nothing made Roarke as bitter as when he wasn’t in the know. “What exactly has happened with Wren the past ten years?”

  Erick eyed him. “Man, that’s her business.”

  Right, and so it wasn’t Roarke’s.

  “Look, we have a good team.” Erick said the words like he was trying to convince both of them. “A team and an underground bunker. What else do we need, really?”

  Roarke leveled Erick with a glare. “A well-developed plan would be nice.”

  Erick’s lips shifted to the side. “Oh yeah, well, that.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Megan Erickson is a USA Today bestselling author of romance that sizzles. Her books have a touch of nerd, a dash of humor, and always have a happily ever after. A former journalist, she switched to fiction when she decided she likes writing her own endings better.

  She lives in Pennsylvania with her very own nerdy husband and two kids. Although rather fun-size, she’s been told she has a full-size personality. When Megan isn’t writing, she’s either lounging with her two cats named after John Hughes characters or…thinking about writing.

  Learn more at:

  meganerickson.org

  @MeganErickson_

  Facebook.com/meganjerickson

  Praise for Megan Erickson and The Wired & Dangerous Series

  “The suspense is edgy and the romance is hot…Erickson’s start to her Wired & Dangerous series is an unusual and exciting work of romantic suspense.”

  —Christie Ridgway, BookPage on Zero Hour

  “The first in Erickson’s Wired & Dangerous romantic suspense series roars out of the gate and doesn’t let up. This is a highly enjoyable romantic thriller.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Take a wild ride into the dark underworld of the internet with a sexy romance series full of intrigue and tension. The high-stakes world of computer hacking has never looked so seductive and scorching!”

  —Rebecca Zanetti, New York Times bestselling author

  “Zero Hour was the Ocean’s Eleven/Mr. Robot mashup I didn’t know I needed in my life, and I WANT MORE! Adrenaline-fueled, sexy, and tender all at once, Zero Hour is the amazing start to a thrilling new series.”

  —Molly O’Keefe, USA Today bestselling author

  Also by Megan Erickson

  Zero Hour

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you so much to my readers for embracing this series like they have. I’m so thankful at the response to Zero Hour, and I can’t wait to bring you more of my crew!

  Huge thanks to Marisa Corvisiero for sticking with me and this series and finding a wonderful home for it at Grand Central/Forever. Thanks to Alex Logan for your insightful edits. I look forward to your Friday emails every week! Huge thanks to Estelle Hallick for being a wonderful, hard-working, friendly, supportive—and many other adjectives—publicist. You did so much for Zero Hour, and I’m so grateful!

  Thanks to my husband for putting up with my annoying computer questions. You are the real MVP of this series. Big thanks to Keyanna Butler for holding the fort down as my assistant.

  As always, a massive thank you to the members of Meg’s Mob. What would I do without you all? Also the bookstagrammers who are out there taking amazing photos of books. Thank you!

  Thanks to my family, especially my mom who always buys my books even if I tell her that one of them might be a bit too racy for her. She supports me no matter what!

  And last but not least, Andi, you’ll never be one of the little people.