Wicked Games: The Complete Wicked Games Series Box Set

by J. T. Geissinger

  When Claire says, “Oh my God, I know exactly who I’m going to ask,” the room erupts into laughter.

  “Good for you, Claire! Okay, next question.”

  I point to a mousy woman sitting quietly in the front row. Unlike the other women in the audience, she hasn’t smiled, laughed, or clapped once during the entire seminar. I’m surprised she’s participating now. She’s looked as if she’s been in pain all day.

  “Yes, lady in the front.”

  She stands. The assistant hands her the mic. She holds it for a moment, looking at the floor, and then raises her eyes and drills me with them. “When I told my boyfriend I was coming to this seminar, he tried to kill me.”

  The entire room falls silent. Goose bumps march like fire ants down my spine.

  “He said that you’ve done more to ruin relations between men and women than anyone else since Eve took the apple from the serpent.”

  Oh, boy. Religious nut job alert.

  “I guess that makes her the original bitch.”

  My attempt at a lighthearted joke falls flat. Everyone is waiting nervously to hear what the woman is going to say next. Wondering if I’m about to get tied to a stake and roasted alive, I look nervously stage left, trying to catch the eye of the burly security guard standing in the wings, but am stunned to see Parker there instead.

  He’s unsmiling, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me. When our eyes meet, a strange tingle of premonition zips through me.

  How long has he been standing there? And what is that look in his eyes?

  The woman continues. “But I remembered what you’d written in the afterword of your first book, Bitches Do Better. You wrote, ‘The beautiful thing about life is, you always have the power to say, “This is not how my story is going to end.”’ I remembered that when he had his hands around my throat. I decided that wasn’t how my story was going to end. So I fought back. And I got away. And now he’s in jail and won’t be able to hurt me again. So I guess I don’t really have a question. I guess I just wanted to say…you saved my life, Victoria. You literally saved my life.”

  My throat is closing up. A large, invisible fist squeezes my windpipe. After a long moment, I manage, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  The woman answers, “Jennifer.”

  I look to the audience. With a little hitch in my voice, I say, “Can we all please give Jennifer a round of applause for being so fucking awesome?”

  The roar that explodes from the crowd is like nothing I’ve heard before. It sounds like a rock concert. Jennifer blushes and looks down. Before she can sit, I jump off the stage and engulf her in a bear hug.

  The crowd goes wilder. Suddenly there are ten women around us, then twenty, then who knows how many more, all of them hugging and clapping and hollering, patting me on the back, the shoulders, my hair. Jennifer and I break apart, grinning at each other. She tells me I’m her hero, I tell her she’s mine, and then I have to run away because there’s water pooling in my eyes and I’d rather have a colonoscopy with no anesthesia than be seen crying in public.

  I throw a final wave to the crowd before disappearing off the stage, where I bump right into a solid, unmoving bulk that turns out to be Parker.

  He grasps me by the upper arms. Blinking, I look up at him. When he sees my expression, his face softens.

  “You’re just a big marshmallow under all that titanium armor, aren’t you?” He pulls me against his chest, and I bury my face in his coat.

  “Don’t make me tell you to go fuck yourself.”

  That makes him laugh. He winds his arms around me and nuzzles his nose against my ear. “I wouldn’t care if you did. There’s nothing like a woman with a brilliant mind and a filthy mouth.”

  “Don’t forget the high-maintenance pussycat.”

  He presses his lips against the pulse in my temple. I can feel by the curve of his lips that he’s smiling. “How could I possibly forget? She’s all I’ve been able to think about for the past forty-eight hours.”

  Relieved that we’re joking, I peek up at him with an eyebrow cocked and pretend to frown. “A one-track mind, I see.”

  “It’s my finest trait. That and being smart enough to take out the trash before Fabio shows up to beat me to it.”

  I can’t help the way my lips twitch because I’m trying not to smile. “This is why men aren’t allowed in my seminars—now you know all our secrets!”

  A flicker of emotion crosses his face, there, then instantly gone. “Not all of them.”

  With that, I’m right back into high-anxiety mode about this mysterious land of no secrets he mentioned before.

  Parker sees the change in my face and puts a finger over my lips. “I said it was a surprise, didn’t I?”

  I nod. Satisfied, he nods too. “And so it is. Did you pack a bag?”

  I nod again. He drops his hand to my shoulder and squeezes it.

  “Good. Are you ready for your first surprise?”

  Narrowing my eyes, I ask, “Exactly how many will there be?”

  His smile is maddeningly smug. “It’s a surprise.”

  I’m about to dig in my heels and insist on an explanation, but just then someone hollers my name. When I turn toward the voice, I see Tabby striding toward me with a scowl, a sheaf of papers clenched in her fist. She sees Parker and her step falters, but then she smiles brightly and keeps walking toward us as if nothing is wrong.

  I know her too well, though. That smile she’s dangling in front of Parker is about as genuine as a Kardashian’s tits.

  Something’s happened.

  Tabby fixes Parker in her piercing green gaze and says curtly, “Hey.”

  I make the introductions. “Parker, this is my assistant, Tabitha. Tabby, Parker.”

  Parker looks with bemusement at Tabby’s outfit du jour, a mash-up of heroin chic and Elizabethan Goth that features a ruffled black mini, black stockings ripped at the knees, six-inch black stiletto booties, a man’s sleeveless white undershirt, and a huge, chunky black cross on a rosary around her neck, which I know she’s wearing ironically because she’s an atheist.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  Tabby’s fake smile grows brittle. “You too. Can I borrow her for a minute?”

  “Of course.” Parker graciously inclines his head. “I’ll wait for you in the lobby.” He kisses me on the cheek and then turns and walks away.

  There’s a certain swagger in his walk, a satisfaction, as if he’s a big game hunter who’s just bagged an elephant.

  Tabby notices it too. Watching him go, she mutters, “I don’t like this, Victoria. This weekend getaway to a place of no secrets thing?” She shakes her head. “I think you should cancel and call this whole revenge thing off. Especially after this.”

  She smacks me on the arm with the sheaf of papers. I take it from her, unroll the pages, and peer at it in confusion. The pages are covered in gibberish, rows of random numbers and symbols that are as indecipherable as hieroglyphs.

  “This looks like your computer threw up. What is it?”

  She pins me with a look of such apprehension, it makes my blood run cold. “Evidence that someone’s been creeping a little too close to home.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning there’s a fox trying to get into the henhouse.” She jerks her chin at the printout in my hand. “This is proof that someone’s trying to hack into our system.”

  My heart does a somersault. Dreading the answer, I ask, “Did they get in?”

  She looks at me with deep insult, as if I’ve just taken a poop inside one of her Hello Kitty handbags. “Of course not! But this is some high-level shit, Victoria. It’s a kernel rootkit worm that can subvert intrusion detection software and basically hijack the entire system and enslave it.”

  When I slow blink, she sighs.

  “Your computer would be at someone else’s control. They could spy on you, see everything you’re doing, and you’d never know they were there.”

  I gas
p.

  She says, “Exactly. It’s bad. Also there’s the fun fact that I haven’t yet been able to get past whatever software is protecting Parker’s systems, because now there’s someone on the other end who keeps changing the passwords.” Her voice turns sour. “Every two minutes.”

  “Wait, what are you saying? What does this all mean?”

  She takes the papers from my hands and crushes them into a ball. “My best guess? Your boyfriend has someone like me on his side who knows what we’re up to and is trying to do to us what we’re trying to do to him.”

  My mouth drops open. “What?”

  “The pooch has been screwed, is what. The fat lady has sung. All the backdoors I could’ve exploited have been slammed shut on Parker’s system, and his admin has put traps in place that will lead him right back to me if I try to enter. It’s tighter than any military system I’ve ever seen. I’d have a better chance at getting in the Pope’s asshole undetected.”

  She adds grudgingly, “Honestly, it’s pretty impressive. If I didn’t hate this prick so much, whoever he is, I’d want to pick his beautiful, bastardy brain.”

  “Rewind a second—military system? When did you work on military systems?”

  Tabby looks at me silently for a moment. “Remember before, when I was telling you about President Underwood’s minion who insisted on keeping certain nefarious details confidential so the president could plead ignorance if questioned?”

  My eyes pop so wide, I feel like a cartoon character, as if my eyeballs are in danger of springing from my head with a bazOOO-guh! noise, like an old-fashioned car horn. “Tabitha. Please tell me you’re not involved with anything to do with hacking the government.”

  She shrugs. “Not anymore.”

  Oh God. My head is spinning. I think I need to sit down, but I panic at the thought of Parker waiting for me in the lobby. Then something horrible occurs to me.

  “Does Parker know it’s us who’ve been trying to gain access to his system?”

  “There’s no proof where the attacks originated. So far, I’m invisible. But it can’t be coincidence that we targeted him, and then this happens.” She waves the crumpled wad of papers in my face. “And if I keep trying to get in, I’ll lead him right to us.”

  “So there’s nothing more we can do? We’re screwed?”

  “Six ways to Sunday, boss. The SS Cyber Revenge has sailed.”

  “Shit. Shit, shit, shit!”

  I dig my hands into my hair and stand for a moment with my eyes closed, breathing deeply, trying to determine what my next move should be, when Tabby says with utter nonchalance, “Unless I break into his house.”

  I drop my hands to my sides and stare at her. “You’re joking.”

  “I only joke about politics, religion, and the size of men’s dicks, never about something important like work.”

  I look around, worried that anyone standing nearby might overhear this outrageous conversation, but except for a few banquet guys conferring about setting up for another event tomorrow, we’re alone. In a lowered voice, I hiss, “Are you crazy? If you’re caught, you’ll be arrested!”

  She smiles a vague Mona Lisa smile. “So you’re not against the idea per se. Your only objection is that I might get caught?”

  I open my mouth to deny it but catch myself. “Well…yes.”

  When I see her smile turn smug, I insist, “But Tabby, there’s no way you can guarantee you won’t get caught! If he’s got major defenses on his computer—not to mention the biometric security on his office safe—there’s no telling what kind of security system he has installed on his home!”

  “Sure there is—”

  “No! I’m not letting you do that, Tabitha. It’s too dangerous for you. The answer is no.”

  She stares at me with her lips pursed, a lock of red hair falling into her eyes. “So you’re cool with me breaking and entering electronically, but physically it’s a problem… I assume you’re aware of the definition of the word hypocrite? Because I’m thinking if we looked it up in the dictionary, your picture would be right next to it, Maleficent.”

  I want to wring her neck for arguing with me but exhale in exasperation instead. “Last time I checked, there weren’t policemen with guns pointed at your head in cyberspace—if you trip an alarm at Parker’s house, it will be swarming with armed cops before you can say ‘Guardians of the Galaxy rocks!’”

  Tabby’s nostrils flare. “Do not mock Guardians of the Galaxy, Victoria. Chris Pratt was super hot in that! And don’t even get me started on the special effects—or the soundtrack! And remind me again how you’re going to ruin Parker’s life if we can’t get into his safe, or his computers, to find his dirty laundry?”

  She’s being sarcastic, the little bitch, but she has an excellent point. If I’m cock-blocked by Parker’s smarty-pants security firm and can’t get any more information on him, and the intel Tabby’s come up with so far is bubkes, what’s my next move?

  My brain waves a big red flag that reads: a place of no secrets.

  It could be my last shot.

  I square my shoulders, toss my head, and decide to go for broke. “I’m finishing this, Tabby. I’m too far down the rabbit hole to give up now. Whatever happens this weekend, Parker Maxwell will end up sorely regretting he ever fed this kitty his churro.”

  Tabby raises her brows. “You named his dick after a donut?”

  “It’s a pastry.”

  She snorts. “Well, like I always say, all a girl really needs is fifty million dollars and a pastry.”

  “Meet me in five with my bags in the lobby. I’ve got to go to the ladies’ room before my bladder explodes.”

  I turn to head to the bathroom, but Tabby grabs my arm. “Victoria, wait.”

  Arrested by the new tone in her voice, I stop and stare at her. She looks back at me silently for a moment and then sighs.

  “Just be careful, okay? I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  I study her face, noting the worry in her eyes. “Worse than the feeling you had after the last Avengers movie?”

  “Way worse.” She pauses for a moment and then adds softly, “You remember how to access the bug-out bag, right?”

  All the hairs on my arms stand on end. “We’re not even going there, Tabitha. Everything will be fine. You know I can handle myself.”

  “It’s not you I’m worried about, boss. It’s him. Don’t forget what’s at stake here. If this situation with Parker goes sideways, you could lose everything. Everything. And we both could wind up in prison.”

  She releases my arm, turns, and walks away, leaving me to stare after her with those terrifying words echoing in my ears.

  31

  Victoria

  As promised, Parker is waiting for me in the lobby, leaning casually against the concierge’s counter with his arms folded across his chest and a secret smile on his face. When he sees me, he straightens. His smile grows wider.

  Walking beside me, Tabby mutters, “Would you look at that shit-eating grin? This is so fucked up.”

  “Shhh!” I manufacture a smile that probably looks more like a constipated grimace. Tabby is really starting to freak me out.

  “Ladies,” says Parker when we stop in front of him. He looks at me. “All set?”

  “Ready to go!” I answer brightly. “Wherever it is we’re going!”

  If I thought Parker’s smile was secretive before, now it’s positively covert. I’ve never seen anyone’s mouth take on such a sly, mysterious slant.

  Tabby nudges me with her elbow. I resist the urge to kick her in the shin.

  Parker snaps his fingers, and a porter hustles over from across the lobby. “Put these in the black Rolls in front,” says Parker, gesturing to my bags.

  The porter immediately obeys. I’ve seen speeding trains move slower. I’m not sure which one of us the porter recognized, but I’m sure he’s hoping for a nice fat tip.

  Here’s a tip, darling, I think, batting my lashes at Parker. I put the
hot in psychotic.

  I don’t care if I have to set him on fire to do it. I will have my revenge.

  “Well,” says Tabby, “have a great weekend.” Her gaze on me grows sharper. Her voice drops. “Call me if you need anything, whatever time it is. You know I’m always available for you.”

  Parker settles his arm around my shoulders. “Victoria’s lucky to have such a dedicated assistant.”

  Tabby laughs mirthlessly. “You have no idea.” She gives a little wave using only the tips of her fingers and then abruptly turns and leaves without saying good-bye.

  Watching her go, I experience the sudden, gut-wrenching premonition that it will be the last time I’ll ever see her. My entire body goes cold.

  “Are you all right? Your face is white.”

  Parker stares down at me with concern. I realize I’m standing there frozen and have stopped breathing. I put a hand over my throbbing heart and weakly laugh.

  “Oh…yes, I’m…sorry, I just realized I haven’t eaten in hours! I’m famished!”

  I turn to him with a bright smile and fake words, swallowing the silly lump in my throat. I’m being overly dramatic. Imagining things. I need to put my game face on and concentrate.

  “I can fix that,” says Parker with that strange, sly confidence.

  My weird feeling of doom intensifies.

  He gently takes me by the arm and steers me through the lobby to the valet area outside. The porter who took our bags bounds up like an overexcited Labrador.

  “Your car is ready, sir!” He gestures to a black sedan parked right in front. It’s sleek, long, and beautiful. A driver in a dark suit stands next to the passenger door, waiting.

  And my brain executes a sprint so quick, it could win an Olympic gold medal.

  It can’t be he couldn’t have holy Mother Mary what could this possibly mean Tabby was right this is fucked!

  I ask indifferently, “New car?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, it is.” Parker leans closer to my ear. When he speaks again, his voice is incredibly sexy. “You did say you wanted one.”

  I did. I remember it perfectly, primarily because it’s not often I demand a black-on-black Rolls-Royce with blacked-out rims during sex.