Текст книги "Luke"

Автор книги: M. Malone

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“I don’t know why I just told you that. I don’t talk about this stuff. Ever. Anyway, after that my grandmother took us in until she died. She had a lot of health problems but she did her best. Those were good years.”

His head falls forward. “Seven … I didn’t know it was like that.”

“No one did. But you helped me through it.”

His face betrays his shock. “I didn’t do anything. I mean, fuck. I wish I’d known how bad it was and maybe I could have helped. I don’t know how but … I would have done something.”

He runs his hands through his hair, leaving his fists on top of his head. He looks so frustrated. His concern touches me.

“You did do something. You were my friend. No matter where they moved me, they couldn’t keep me away from a computer forever. You were the one place I could always come back to.”

“The one person you could call,” he says, echoing what I’d said to him earlier.

His face is so expressive. Every emotion shows in his eyes. He’s fighting some sort of internal battle and I know my deception has damaged the trust between us. But over the years, through all the bad stuff, our connection was the one thing I could count on always being there.

Waiting for him to decide whether to trust me is agony. But when it finally happens, I can see it in his eyes before he even opens his mouth. Even though it’s what I want, it’s also one of the most painful moments of my life because I know before it’s all over I’m just going to hurt him again.

He turns to me, his dark eyes intense. “So, tell me what happened with this job. Exactly what happened.”

†

He settles back into the couch to listen, resting one leg over his knee.

I’d really rather not recount the story but I can’t deny that I would be curious in his place. Especially since I’ve always been the savior in our relationship, strange as it is.

“I was contacted through my website to do a security analysis by a new company last week. The guy seemed legit on the phone and filled out my survey no problem.”

“What kind of things do you ask on the survey?”

“The usual stuff, you know. What their expectations are and what kind of security protocols they currently have in place. Usually that gives me enough information to devise a plan.”

He nods. “So after that, they asked you to come here?”

“Not at first. I attempted to access their server immediately, then tried the usual methods to gain access. I sent an email to one of the administrative assistants listed on their website claiming her account had been compromised and she needed to sign in immediately. She took the bait. It only took me ten minutes and I was in.”

Luke is nodding along with everything I’m saying. What I’m describing is hardly a sophisticated hack, just your standard phishing expedition. They’re so popular because they work the majority of the time unless you claim to be an African prince in possession of a stolen fortune. If you craft a phishing email well, you can gain access to almost anything.

“How did the warehouse come into it?” He stands suddenly. “Do you want some coffee? Tea? Sorry, I’m not a very good host.”

It’s funny that he thinks so when I’ve been more comfortable here than I am with anyone else. Talking to him in person feels just as natural as when we’ve chatted online. It’s so surreal to have a conversation and be able to watch his facial expressions and hear his tone of voice.

“No, I’m fine.” I stand and follow him into the kitchen. After he sets the coffee to brew, I pick back up the story I memorized beforehand. I have to tell it just right or it won’t pique his interest. Curiosity is the downfall of almost all hackers and Luke is no different.

It’s what I’m counting on.

“Anyway, I was scheduled to meet with them in the afternoon but I arrived a little early. I had already figured out how to get in to the system earlier but because I connected again from that location, that’s how the FBI knew where I was. I’m not surprised they were able to trace me but I wouldn’t have thought they could subpoena my IP address from the phone company that fast.”

“They have priority so they can move pretty quickly when they need to,” Luke comments absently.

“Yeah, I figured that out when they burst through the door. Scared the hell out of me.”

He pulls down a mug from one of the cabinets. “It’s all going to be okay. You know that, right? Agent Walker is intense but I’ve worked with him a few times before and he’s fair. Mostly, anyway. They’ll find who hired you. But I bet we find them first.”

I pretend to think about it for a few minutes. “Do you think that’s a good idea? Will you get in trouble? I’m sure the FBI doesn’t like anyone poking around their investigations.”

He laughs. “You only get in trouble if you get caught. I once changed the date of one of my meetings with Agent Walker on his calendar because I forgot about it.”

“Did he ever figure out that you hacked him?”

Luke gives me an incredulous look. “His password was his dog’s name. What do you think?”

Despite how serious this is, I can’t help laughing along with Luke. I know how tempting it is to do those kinds of things just because you can. Most people have no idea how vulnerable they are to being manipulated by people like us. Everyone is one password away from having their entire lives hijacked but most have no idea.

It’s probably better if they don’t.

He brings his coffee to the table in the living room and then collapses back down on the couch. I sit next to him, inhaling his scent. Already it feels second nature to be this close to him, feeling his warmth.

“You’re tired.”

My eyes pop open at his voice and I jerk upright. I hadn’t realized that I’d slumped over.

“Sorry to fall asleep on you.”

“Don’t apologize for being a normal person. Anyone, except for weirdos like me, would be tired by now. Especially after everything you’ve been through today.”

He stands and I watch as he disappears into the back. A few minutes later, he reemerges with a towel, washcloth and a T-shirt folded on top. I accept the bundle and trail him to the small bathroom in the hallway.

“I can get your stuff from the hotel while you get ready for bed. Where’s your key?”

“You don’t have to do that.” It’s an instinct borne of selfishness because suddenly I don’t want him to leave. I have to soak up all the time with him I can. Before he hates me.

“It’s no problem.”

Reluctantly, I pull the key from my pocket. I don’t really love the idea of Luke carting all my stuff around but it’s nice of him to offer. I’m exhausted and practically falling asleep on my feet.

“Just hang out here and I’ll be back. By the way, is there anything else you remember about the guy who called you?”

I hesitate just a beat. “Not really. Oh yeah, he had an accent. Sounded Irish I think.”

Luke pauses, and then nods his head. “Irish? Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

He taps the doorjamb and then walks back down the hall but I still see the look on his face. Intrigued.

Mission Accomplished.

chapter five

†

LUKE

Retrieving Seven’s stuff from the hotel didn’t take long since it looked like she’d barely unpacked. I combed the room carefully, making sure that her laptop bag and suitcase were all she’d brought. By the time I got back to my apartment, the light was off in the bathroom and I couldn’t hear any movement in the guest room so I left her stuff up front. It’s late and she probably needs sleep more than anything in her suitcase. I move quietly down the hall and into my room.

I pull out my cell phone as I drop down on the bed.  My thumb moves over the screen until I have my father’s number on the screen. After months of ignoring his attempts to make contact, I’m put in the position of calling him. I really don’t want to do it but I haven’t stopped thinking about what Seven said.

Irish. There’s no way that’s a coincidence.

Before I can think too hard about the consequences, I hit the number. Fuck it. I’ll just leave a message and deal with it tomorrow. It’s late and I’m not really expecting an answer so I’m startled by the soft, well-modulated voice that answers almost immediately.

“Hi. Sorry, this is Luke Marshall. I need to speak with my father.”

“He’s already asleep. Would it be okay if he called you back tomorrow? I’ll give him your message first thing in the morning.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

I hang up, surprised at how awkward that was. Talking has never been my strong suit but I’m particularly unprepared in this case. What am I going to say? The only piece of information I have in this case is that the guy sounded Irish, which tells us basically nothing. For all I know, Seven got the accent wrong. It could have been a Welsh accent or something completely different.

I peek out into the hallway. The door to the second bedroom is closed and it’s all quiet. She didn’t ask for anything so I assume she’s okay. The entire time I’ve lived in this apartment, I’ve never had guests so I’m sure my hospitality leaves much to be desired.

I close my door and then strip quickly, tossing my sweatshirt onto the end of the bed and stepping out of my jeans. I walk into the hall in just my boxers. Goosebumps spread over my skin as the cool air hits me. I walk quickly because it would be just my luck for Seven to step into the hall at this exact moment and catch me half-dressed. Not that I’m in bad shape. The second bedroom she’s sleeping in is my office but also doubles as a gym since I have free weights in there. Since I’m sitting so much, I put extra effort into my workouts to make up for it but I’m still not used to walking around shirtless.

Under the hot spray of water in the shower, I let my head fall forward and enjoy the steam. I soap up and then wash my hair. My hand fumbles the bottle and it hits the floor. I pause but I don’t hear anything so hopefully the noise didn’t wake her. It’s so weird to think that she’s right on the other side of the wall.

Weird but also slightly arousing to think that she’s so close while I’m naked.

The thought makes me fumble again and I finally just set the bottle on the floor of the shower. Imagining her on the futon wearing my shirt and a smile is way too easy. It screws with my head that she’s so beautiful but it doesn’t feel right to be thinking about her that way.  It’s like she’s trying to take up two spaces in my head, friend and fantasy, and I can’t reconcile the two.

Although maybe that’s an accurate description. She’s been a friend but mostly in my head. The connection I thought we shared was mainly of my own imagination.

The thought is depressing so I dry off quickly and then wrap the towel around my waist. Back in my room, I climb into bed nude and then shut off the light. But it’s a long time before I fall asleep.

†

The next morning I wake before the sun. My first thought is of the beautiful girl sleeping in my guest room. I’m struck with the need to see her, to make sure the prior day wasn’t some weird dream.

Excitement spurs my movements and I practically throw the covers aside.

After dressing in jeans and a T-shirt, I cross the hall and pause outside the second bedroom. It’s quiet.

“Seven?” I listen for a moment but I don’t hear any movement. She’s definitely still asleep.

Of course she’s still asleep weirdo. Normal people aren’t awake this early. 

I’m actually glad she’s asleep. Otherwise I’d have to explain why I’m standing outside of her door like a stalker. Mentally berating myself for my crazy behavior, I walk to the kitchen to get the coffee started and then pause at the edge of the living room. Seven is curled up in a little ball on the couch. Her face is scrunched up into a little grimace and her long hair is all over the place. She doesn’t look comfortable at all. Then her eyes pop open.

She sits up and yawns. “Oh, hi.”

I pick up one of the throw pillows from the couch that got tossed on the floor. “Is there something wrong with the futon in the office? If it’s not comfortable, we could have switched. I’ve slept in there before.”

“No, it’s fine. I just …” She looks vaguely uncomfortable. “Prefer the couch. I usually work until late and fall asleep on my couch most of the time anyway.”

Understanding dawns and I regret my offhand question. She’s been on her own a long time and shuffled around a lot. I know she didn’t have a lot of money for a while and she once confided that she was living out of her car. Back then, I only knew her as C7pher and since I’d assumed she was a guy, it hadn’t seemed as scary.

Maybe it’s sexist that it bothers me more to think of a girl being homeless but the idea of her that vulnerable hits me hard. Anything could have happened to her out there.

“I understand that. Back in junior high, my mom and I were sharing this one-bedroom apartment so I used to sleep on the pullout couch in the living room. It was years before I could get used to sleeping in a bed, even after I started making money from my software.”

“Yeah it’s hard to change what you’re used to.” Her eyes shift to the coffee pot. When I pull down another coffee mug, she smiles gratefully.

“I brought your luggage and computer from the hotel last night. Send me the emails from the guy who hired you. I’ll get to work on tracing them and see what I can find.”

The wary look comes back into her eyes. “Luke, you really don’t have to. I can do it.”

“I know you can. Better than I can. But sometimes it helps to have someone else working on it. Someone who has some objectivity, you know?”

She concedes the point with a small nod and then pours a cup of coffee. “Thanks for the help. Even though I seem ungrateful, I truly do appreciate it.”

 My attempt to shift the attention away from her works and she seems to relax. After she turns on her computer, she forwards me the emails and then disappears into the back, pulling her suitcase behind her. She emerges five minutes later wearing jeans and a sweatshirt with a picture of the Wi-Fi symbol on it. Her hair is pulled up into a high ponytail and she looks so damn young.

After a quick breakfast and my required cup of coffee, I show Seven my tentative plans for the coding school.

It’s surreal to be talking about this to someone who actually understands why it matters so much and she has some really great insights to add. Technology programs in most schools aren’t where they should be yet and girls especially aren’t encouraged to pursue it.

For the first time, I really see what she means. The same reasons she was scared to out herself to me are the obstacles we need to help these kids overcome. There has to be a significant outreach to girls in order to overcome that stupid stigma that technology is a guy thing.

It’s almost lunchtime by the time we’re done. When I look over at Seven, her eyes are closed and her head is resting against the back of the couch. She’s clearly tired so I stand carefully, trying not to disturb her, and move to the kitchen table.

I decide to use the time to investigate the emails she forwarded to me. The email headers give me enough info to figure out the location of the sender.

Dungarvan, Ireland.

So the guy didn’t just sound Irish, he was actually in Ireland when he sent the email.

A sense of foreboding has my hands pausing on the keys. What if Max is somehow part of this? Do I really want to know? I’ve been staying away from him for a reason but what if there’s something I can protect Seven from?

With a little frustrated groan, I get up to make more coffee. This is something I’ll have to think on for a while. I want to help but there are some boxes that once opened, you can never close again. Before I do anything I can’t take back, I need to be really sure. Hell, maybe the FBI will figure it all out and I won’t even have to get involved.

Satisfied with that possibility, I decide to tinker on my software design while Seven is sleeping. This software will be designed to make any home or business run more efficiently. Software like this already exists but my version will take it a step further. Not only will the client be able to turn off lights, control temperature, and set the alarm from the web interface but there’s also a component that integrates with their banking system. They’ll be able to pay bills, order maintenance checks on appliances and schedule maid service. It’ll be like a virtual butler that runs your home for you once you input a few parameters.

Working on something new is always exhilarating and before I realize it, three hours have passed. I glance behind me to where Seven is still asleep. She hasn’t stirred once.

I kneel on the floor next to the couch and tap her gently on the arm. After a few moments, she swallows and then rolls toward me. Finally her eyes open. The soft, sleepy look on her face makes my heart roll over in my chest.

“Hungry?”

Her eyes trail down and stop at my chest. Then she smiles. “Yeah.”

I swallow hard. It somehow feels like we’re talking about more than food. It’s an effort to halt the dirty thoughts that start running through my head. Her soft, husky voice makes just that one word sound like foreplay but that doesn’t mean she wants me to take it that way.

Down boy.

“We can go into Norfolk or Virginia Beach for lunch, if you want? It takes a little longer to get there but we’ll have more choices.”

She sits up and stretches her arms overhead, the hem of her sweatshirt rising enough to show off a patch of taut, pale skin on her belly.

“We’re not going back to the bakery for lunch?”

“Uh, no.”

It’s impossible to miss her pout. But she follows me outside to my car and when she says that she’s okay with burgers, I drive one city over to New Haven to The Rush. It’s an old school diner with great burgers and shakes. I honestly would have eaten cardboard if it meant I didn’t have to see anyone I know.

After we order and Seven is working on sucking down a chocolate shake, I finally relax. She looks around and then says, “I like this place. But I still don’t understand why we couldn’t go to the bakery. I really wanted to see it again.”

“We’ll go back again, don’t worry. Before long you’ll be sick of the place. I just can’t keep bringing you there. It’ll only get my mom’s hopes up.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” She looks confused. “Otherwise, why tell her that I’m your girlfriend in the first place?”

“She thinks I’m alone too much. If she thinks I have a girlfriend then maybe she won’t stress out so much about me dying old and alone. But I don’t want to put you through an Anita Marshall inquisition.”

She slurps up the last of her shake. “I think it’s nice that you’re so close to your mom.”

“My mom raised me by herself and her family wasn’t that supportive in the beginning. So yeah, for a long time it was the two of us against the world. I adore her. But she can be pretty aggressive when it comes to protecting her baby boy.  If you thought that FBI interrogation was bad, they’ve got nothing on my mom. She was probably mentally measuring you for a wedding dress last night hoping to get you locked down before you come to your senses.”

Seven laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. “Oh come on. It can’t be that bad. Like you don’t have plenty of girlfriends already.”

My heart starts beating a little faster. Is she flirting with me? I’ve never been good at this part. When you spend most of your time communicating with a computer, it’s difficult to gauge when someone is being sincere or just being polite. Computers don’t require social niceties so I’m aware that I’m a little deficient in that area.

“Not really. I’m always working and I can never think of much to say on dates anyway.”

“I get that. The last guy I dated was a waiter who was enrolled in the theatre program at NYU. He was a nice guy but I couldn’t exactly tell him about it when I had a bad day. He had no clue what I was talking about ever.”

“Right? That’s a legitimate thing that my family just doesn’t get. Dating someone who has no clue what you do for a living and doesn’t share most of your interests doesn’t really make much sense anyway.”

“What are you saying– we nerds need to stick to our own kind?”

Our eyes meet and I’m suddenly having a hard time swallowing. “Well, I guess so.”

“Good to know.” She finishes the last bit of her burger, swiping a little bit of ketchup off the plate and sucking it off her finger.

The blast of heat takes me off guard. What is it about this girl? She’s not even my type. I usually go for tall, curvy and bold. But Seven has the kind of beauty that sneaks up on you. Even the way she tips her head so her hair covers the scar on her cheek is charmingly self-deprecating. She makes me want to shield her from anything that might scare her. Despite the inner strength I know she possesses, everything about her seems delicate from the graceful curve of her neck to the long, slim fingers that I’m now imagining wrapped around my dick.

I cough and have to grab a napkin at the last minute to keep from spitting my food out on the table.

“Yeah, I think I’m done.” I can feel her eyes on me as I gather up our trash and carry it to the bin near the door.

Helping Seven was the right thing to do and I would do it again in a heartbeat. But there’s no doubt that it’ll be for the best when we catch whoever set her up so she can move on. This girl has my hormones going haywire and she’s only been here a day.

†

My phone rings later that evening. Seven is in the office working on my desk and I’m camped out on the couch. I pick it up absently and then answer quickly when I see that it’s Agent Walker. After we hang up, I walk back to the office and rap on the door. Seven looks up.

“Agent Walker just called. You’re officially off the hook.”

She swivels in my office chair until she’s facing me. “Really? That fast?”

“Yeah, the emails led them back to a fringe International terrorist group that they’ve been tracking for years. They must have gotten frustrated at their inability to gain access and decided to hire someone else to see if they could do it.”

“That’s awesome.”

Strangely, her words don’t match her expression. I’ve been in her position before and there’s no relief quite like knowing that you’re no longer at risk for jail time. Well, in my case I would have been sent to juvie but that was essentially the same thing in my mind. Yet Seven seems kind of underwhelmed for someone who just got out of a pretty serious situation. I would have expected a little more excitement or at least a smile.

“Agent Walker seemed pretty sure that they would get the guys this time so maybe this will turn out to be a good thing.”

Seven puts her hands behind her head and sighs. “It shouldn’t have happened. I’m getting soft. Staying in one place too long does that to you. You get too comfortable. Complacent.”

Her words make me think. Over the years, I assumed that her moving around wasn’t something she enjoyed but it was just the hand she’d been dealt being in the foster care system. But now that she’s on her own, she could settle in one place if she wanted.

If she wanted. The question is whether she even wants to stay. Will she leave now that she’s not under investigation anymore?

“Is that why you said no? Because it would have tied you down?” I lean back against the door jamb, resting my head on the frame.

She watches me with wary eyes. “You know why I said no.”

“I would have been cool with it. You could have just told me.”

She gives me a get real look. “Being taken seriously is hard enough but when most of the people I deal with online have the maturity of a twelve-year-old boy, it’s even harder. That’s about how old you were when we met by the way. Do you really think your ego could have handled knowing the person teaching you all that stuff was a girl? Or would you have been scared of catching cooties?”

She’s right but it doesn’t mean I’m ready to admit it.

“Anything would have been better than blowing me off and leaving me to wonder why.”

Her face softens at that.

“Why do you think I came here? I came to make it right. But that was just as stupid as this fantasy of being a part of a family. Because I was right to be scared to tell you. The way you looked at me when you found out. The way you’re looking at me right now. It’ll never be the same, will it?”

Her words give voice to the same fears that have kept me up at night. No matter what else has happened, I don’t want to lose the special connection we’ve always had. It shouldn’t matter what she looks like. She’s still C7pher.

“It won’t be the same, no.”

Her face falls. I push away from the door and kneel next to her. When I take her hand, she tries to pull it back but I hang on tight.

“It doesn’t have to be the same. It can be better. It can be whatever we make it.”

Her hand flexes in mine and then she turns it over until we’re palm to palm. It’s a shocking intimacy to feel that heat, one I like way more than I expected. When she goes to pull her hand back, I let her even though part of me wants to hang on.

She looks around. “So is that offer to crash still open?”

“You want to stay here?” The shock is evident in my voice and I’m sure the expression on my face completes the picture.

“That was the deal, wasn’t it?”

“Well, yeah but …”

 I extended the invitation to stay with me while working on the project back when I thought she was a guy. I figured it would make the most sense. When developing software, I tend to work around the clock and I’d assumed it would be the same way while we developed the curriculum for our classes. Staying together would make collaboration easier.

But that was before I knew that I’d be in danger of a constant boner every time she’s around.

“But what?” she taunts. “You said it shouldn’t matter who I am, that you’d still have made the same offer anyway. So, I’m saying yes. Is the offer still open? Or am I booking a ticket back to New York?” Her left eyebrow ticks up in challenge.

I can tell by the set of her mouth that she’s already planning her trip home. She thinks she’s calling my bluff and that I won’t want to work with her now.

What she doesn’t know is the real reason I want to rescind my offer isn’t because she’s a girl but because she’s a gorgeous girl and I truly can’t see how us working together is going to work.

Besides me walking around with a permanent hard-on.

I’m tempted to just let her think I’m a misogynist instead of a horny bastard but then I remember her face last night looking into the bakery. Seven Parker has known too much disappointment in her life already and I don’t want to be one more person who lets her down.

“Yes, the offer to crash is still open. We’ll work on the project. It’ll be fun. No funny business, I promise. I’ll treat you the same way I would have if you’d been a guy.”

Surprise and delight shines in her eyes before it’s banked behind her usual expression of distrust. “Really?”

“Yeah, but don’t get too excited yet. You might change your mind and book that ticket to New York when you see how much work we have to do.”