Fiery Surrender

by Mari Carr

  “I didn’t want to hurt you, Langston. Please, let’s talk about this.” Mina looked like she was about to cry. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Langston’s chest ached at the sight, so he forced himself to look away.

  He opened the door. He had to get out of here. “Funny.” He threw the word over his shoulder. “That was what I’d planned to say.”

  “What?” Rich asked, his voice wooden.

  Langston didn’t stick around to explain as he left the suite barefoot, slamming the door behind him.

  Fuck this.

  Fuck them.

  * * *

  Fuck them. Fuck them.

  Langston threw his shit into the chair of his new hotel room. He was two floors down from the penthouse suite. It wasn’t far enough. Right now he wanted to be…he wanted to be home.

  Where Oscar would tell him he was a dumbass and then help him deal with his very broken heart. Maybe he’d end up like Oscar—grumpy and bitter.

  The desk clerk had looked terrified when he’d stomped down there earlier, demanding a room. If he hadn’t been so fucking pissed, he wouldn’t have dared storm though the lobby of an expensive hotel, barefoot and shirtless. Shit like that got black men shot. He’d been very lucky, because the clerk had merely cleared her throat before taking his credit card and getting him this room.

  He sank down on the foot of the bed. The rage that had carried him out the door was fading, leaving behind a slimy, sick feeling. He put his face in his hands, his breathing hard. The heavy breaths turned to sobs.

  Damn it, damn it. He’d fallen in love, and they’d just been having fun.

  He’d been making love—hot, dirty, kinky love. They’d been pity-fucking him.

  He stood, face wet with tears, and went to the door, locking the dead bolt and flipping the security latch. He’d had to use his real credit card, so the hotel had his name. It would be easy for Rich and Mina to find him.

  Assuming they wanted to.

  He’d left. And that’s what they’d been expecting.

  Despite everything they’d shared, how close they’d become, they still thought badly of him because of their first meeting.

  Langston shucked his jeans and slid under the covers. He hadn’t cried himself to sleep since he was a teenager and the world had been so dramatic. He wasn’t crying himself to sleep now, either. He was just exhausted, so the minute his head hit the pillow he was ready to pass out. If he also happened to be crying…well that wasn’t the same as crying himself to sleep.

  * * *

  Langston sat up, disoriented and trying to shake off the dream that had forced him awake. It hadn’t been a nightmare. It had been more like his subconscious had been trying to slap him awake.

  He sat on the side of the bed and stared at the clock. Seven. Was that a.m. or p.m.? Had he been asleep four hours or sixteen? The hotel room was cool and dark, the blackout curtains blocking any light.

  He grabbed his phone, checking that display. Seven a.m. He’d only been asleep four hours. Not enough. He groaned as he stood, then shuffled to the bathroom. Peeing relieved his bladder, but not the uneasy, disquieted feeling that was all he remembered of the dream he’d been having. Maybe his brain was trying to keep him from feeling the overwhelming heartbreak of earlier.

  He got back in bed and picked up his phone. He had four missed calls, two each from Rich and Mina. Nothing from any Boston numbers that might have been Juliette. Maybe they’d found Rich’s tablet, and so they hadn’t had to report it being stolen. That would just take the fucking cake if Rich’s tablet hadn’t even been stolen.

  The tablets…

  Langston sat up, heart racing. That’s what had woken him up, the thing his subconscious had been screaming about.

  When was the last time he’d seen his tablet?

  Langston scrambled out of bed, slapping the bedside light on and nearly tripping on the covers as he dove for his backpack. He ripped the zippers open and started pulling out pouches. He kept everything in plastic or leather-lined pouches. It kept his crap organized, but also added some insulation. A bag full of travel-size bottles of medication was followed by a smaller case containing the pieces of a blasting cap and a small custom-made tool billfold. Once he had enough of the bag unloaded, he was able to unzip one of the several interior pockets, one of which was large enough for his tablet.

  He sighed and sagged in relief when he saw the edge of his black tablet. He pulled it out and carried it to the bed, plopping down on the mattress. It was the latest model and had been stupidly expensive, but hardly rare. Mina and Rich both had nearly identical ones, though he had a thin but rugged Teflon case on his. Given that he sometimes set the tablet down on the edge of a worktable, where it might tip onto the floor, the drop-proof case had been necessary.

  Langston propped the pillows behind his back and hit the button to power the tablet on. His fingertips flexed against the back. His case didn’t feel right. It was more rubbery than smooth. Langston flipped it over, examining the case.

  The logo stamped in the tire-like material was unfamiliar.

  The tablet chimed, indicating it had finished powering on. Langston flipped it back over, his heart in his throat.

  He stared at an unfamiliar home screen, instead of the advanced-lock software Oscar had designed. There were only three apps, instead of Langston’s five screens full.

  This wasn’t his tablet. It was a similar-looking one, but not his.

  Where was his tablet?

  And who the hell did this one belong to?

  Langston had a very bad feeling the reason Mina and Rich’s tablets were gone was because someone out there was looking for the device he now held in his hand.

  “Fuck me sideways,” he muttered.

  They may have broken his heart, but Langston needed to get back to Mina and Rich, and fast.

  Less than five minutes later, Langston and his bag were racing down the hotel hallway to the elevator.

  Rich opened the suite door after five minutes of him pounding on it. He was wearing pajama pants and looked even more exhausted than he had when Langston left, as if he hadn’t slept at all.

  “Langston.” Rich’s whole body sagged in relief. “You left before I, we, could tell you that—”

  Langston pushed into the room, closed the door, and engaged the security bolt.

  “Langston?” Mina said, looking rumpled but alert. She was standing in the doorway of one of the other bedrooms. The door to the third room was open. They’d gone to separate rooms, not back to the bed they’d shared.

  Realizing that relieved him. Did that mean they wanted—needed—him there?

  He dismissed the thought. There wasn’t time.

  Mina started forward, talking at the same time that Rich tried to finish his sentence.

  Langston slid his backpack off his shoulder, then held up one hand, stopping them. “I know why your tablets were stolen. Call the Grand Master. We have a problem.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rich stared at Langston. He’d been planning what to say to the other man when he saw him again, but it appeared his rehearsed, heartfelt lines, would have to wait.

  “Langston, what’s going on?” Mina’s voice was cool and calm. She’d flipped into unflappable lawyer mode.

  “Call Juliette. Tell her that the person who stole each of your tablets was actually looking for my tablet. Well, this tablet.”

  Rich pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

  “Wait,” Mina said. “Langston, explain before we call the Grand Master.”

  Rich dialed.

  “I said wait,” Mina snapped.

  Rich ignored her. They’d had a knock-down drag-out fight when Langston left, and they were both emotionally walking wounded right now. The only thing they’d agreed on was that, given Langston’s reaction, they’d fucked up. Badly.

  The phone went to voice mail—no message, just a beep.

  “Grand Master, this is Rich Blake. There have been d
evelopments. Someone broke into our suite last night. We need to talk to you.” He hung up and looked at Mina. “Happy?”

  “No. I’d prefer you’d listen. Communicate with me.”

  Rich’s teeth ground together. His lack of communication—not telling her he’d seen Langston talking to Juliette—had been the center point of their fight.

  “Uh, you two okay?” Langston asked.

  “No,” Rich said, unlocking his jaw. “And now that you’re back—”

  “We don’t have time to discuss this absolute fucking mess.” Mina gestured between the three of them. “Langston, what do you mean they’re looking for your tablet?”

  “Let’s at least sit down,” Rich said.

  Mina glared at him, but when he and Langston went to the seating area, she followed. This time they each sat in different seats. Him on one end of the couch, Mina on the armchair farthest from him—subtle—and Langston in the other armchair, across from him.

  Langston set his backpack by his chair, then reached in and, after some rummaging, pulled out a tablet.

  “Do…well…did we all have the same tablet?” Rich asked after looking at it.

  “Not just the three of us.” Langston tapped his tablet. “This isn’t mine. It’s close—same tablet, similar size, black protective case—but this isn’t mine.”

  Rich sat forward, shock quickly fading to confusion. “What?”

  Langston flipped it over. “First of all, this isn’t my case, but more importantly, when I turned it on, I confirmed this definitely isn’t mine.”

  He flipped the tablet back over and then dug into his bag, pulling out a small roll of black electrical tape. He cut off a piece and carefully placed it over the camera before turning the tablet on.

  Rich sat forward to stare at the screen, and Mina came over to sit on the coffee table beside the tablet.

  “It isn’t passcode locked?” Rich asked.

  “Never mind that, how did you end up with it?” Mina countered.

  “No, it isn’t locked, and that’s alarming,” Langston said. “Especially since I think whoever owns this is trying to get it back.”

  “Give me a dollar,” Mina demanded.

  Langston looked confused.

  Rich knew what she was doing, so he walked over to the dining table and grabbed his wallet before pulling out a bill and passing it to Langston.

  Still looking confused, Langston placed the fifty in Mina’s open hand.

  “Congratulations, you just hired me as your lawyer, which means almost everything you tell me is privileged.”

  “Okay…”

  “Where did you steal the tablet?”

  “I didn’t steal it,” Langston protested.

  “If someone is trying to steal it back, there must be something valuable on it.” Rich tapped one of the three icons on the screen.

  “Don’t touch it,” Mina snapped.

  “I didn’t steal it!” Langston yelped.

  The app opened, revealing a black background and rows and rows of nonsense characters. It looked like a fatally corrupted document.

  Or a heavily encrypted one. Rich had seen something that looked like this when he’d bought the cybersecurity company. He’d asked them to do a presentation for him showing what they could do and how they did it.

  “I think this is encrypted,” Rich said.

  “Obviously,” Mina said. “And the fact that someone is trying to steal it back means that we shouldn’t touch it.”

  Fuck that.

  Rich grabbed his phone and started tapping.

  “You two really don’t think much of me, do you?” Langston asked quietly. “You still think I’m some dumb asshole hick, and you think I’d steal.”

  “I don’t think you stole it on purpose,” Mina said. “I’m sure it was an accident. Where was the last place you had it?”

  Rich placed his phone by the tablet, waiting for the decryption app to find a list of nearby devices.

  “You’re not listening to me,” Langston muttered. “Not sure why that should surprise me. Apparently you haven’t heard a fucking word I’ve said since the binding ceremony.”

  Mina reached out as if she were going to touch him, but then pulled her hand back. “That’s not true. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

  Rich wanted to add his own apology, but the tablet beeped, drawing his attention. “Hot damn.” Rich rubbed his hands together. “Progress.”

  “Wait, what are you doing, Rich?” Langston asked.

  Mina and Langston both leaned toward him.

  The device list popped up. He scanned the list—several phones, including his own, Mina’s, and probably one belonging to someone in a nearby room. At the bottom of the list of devices was a blank item—no device type of name, just an empty line.

  He tapped on the blank item, and the tablet screen flashed back.

  “Rich.” Mina’s voice was higher-pitched than normal. She was alarmed. “What are you doing?”

  “Opening up this document.”

  “How?” Langston demanded. “I was going to call my brother because it needs a computer genius—”

  “That’s not Rich,” Mina added.

  “Thanks.” He glared at her.

  “Knock it off, you two,” Langston snapped. “Rich, how are you doing this?”

  The tablet screen now showed the slowly rotating image of the cybersecurity company’s logo. “Them.” He pointed at the logo. “I own the company.”

  “Ah, that makes sense,” Mina said.

  “Oh shit,” Langston breathed. “Oscar would be so pissed if he knew. He’s gone a few rounds with some of the white hat guys from that place.”

  “What’s his handle?” Rich asked.

  “Soooo not telling you that.”

  “You’re going to be able to open whatever’s on this tablet?” Mina asked.

  “Me? No. I wouldn’t even know where to start. But they gave me a beta version of this decryption software—the digital forensic division made it—that works as long as you’re close to the device you want to hack.” He looked up. “I think it’s something to do with a symmetric-key cipher. I know it’s sort of like using CODIS. And it’s better than the FBI’s stuff.” Rich smirked. “You remember the San Bernardino shooter—Farook? Apple wouldn’t unlock his cell phone, the FBI said they would, but actually they couldn’t. They came to my people.”

  “Phones and tablets are usually pretty well-encrypted,” Langston said. “Oscar says they’re harder to crack than a computer.”

  “Oscar must not be as good as my people.”

  “Okay, now you’re just being rude,” Langston growled, but he was sort of smiling.

  “Is that legal?” Mina asked, pointing to his phone.

  “Shouldn’t you know the answer?” Rich asked, brow raised.

  Mina narrowed her eyes. “I mostly handle criminal cases, not cybercrime. Which means I know how to cover it up when I kill you.”

  Langston cracked his knuckles. “Don’t make me break up a fight. I have two brothers. I guarantee I can put both of you on your asses if need be. Don’t fuck with a triplet.”

  Mina made a face at Rich, which he returned with a smirk. She rolled her eyes and looked at Langston. “Langston, please stop being so dramatic for a minute and think.”

  “Did you just accuse me of being dramatic?”

  “Women have been dealing with that accusation for a millennia, you’ll be fine. Now think. When was the last time you remember having, or using, your tablet?”

  “In my lab…” His voice trailed off. “Wait, no. I wasn’t using it then.” Langston put his head in his hands. “When did I have it?”

  Rich sat back, trying to think. “Did you use it on the plane?”

  “Which plane? We’ve been on a million different flights.” Mina stood up and started to pace.

  “No, I was talking to you two or trying to sleep on the flights. I had it in Italy.”

  Mina stopped pacing but didn’t say
anything. She was staring into middle space.

  “In one of the airports?” Rich asked.

  “I don’t think so.” Langston was peering at the tablet, watching the logo rotate. “How long will it take?”

  “No idea,” Rich said.

  “Switched,” Mina breathed. “Your tablet is missing, correct?” She whipped around to face them. “You have someone else’s tablet and someone has yours. Which means at some point, the tablets were switched.”

  “Accidentally,” Langston added.

  “Of course.” Mina waved that away, and then came to sit on the edge of the coffee table. “Langston, if the tablet was off, I mean the screen blank, would you be able to tell the difference between your tablet and another one?”

  “If I picked it up. This one looks almost exactly like mine, but the case is different. Same size, different material, so it would feel different.”

  “Then it stands to reason that you weren’t the one who switched them.” Mina’s face was tense, tight, and Rich felt a sudden chill. “I think…I think I did.”

  “When? Where?” Langston demanded.

  “When we were in Italy, at the lab where you examined the bomb.” Mina swallowed heavily. “I packed your bag, remember? Because Milo rushed us out. There were two tablets on the table. I remember after I packed the bag that there was another tablet left on the desk. It never occurred to me that I grabbed the wrong one.”

  “So you stole the tablet,” Langston said, his tone pure smart ass.

  Rich chuckled. “Touché.”

  “Shut up,” Mina muttered darkly.

  “So this was just a simple mix-up,” Rich said. “We would have figured it out if we hadn’t been honeymooning.”

  “Were we?” Langston asked bitterly. “Thought we’d landed on pity fucking.”

  Rich scowled. “That’s not where we landed.”

  Mina raised her hand. “No. Stop. The Grand Master is going to want answers when she calls us back and we need to have them. Why didn’t Milo, or that guy, Luca, just call us?”

  “Coming all the way to America and apparently following us, looking for chances to steal back the tablet…” Rich shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”