Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 130512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
What was so good about him?
There’d been no mention of his hacking skills in the file my PI had one of her colleagues send my way. None at all. He’d joined the same fraternity as Park Sebastian had, and that right there told me everything I needed to know about him.
We got through the second floor, and still nothing.
There was no third floor. I doubted he would have a computer system in the attic, so that left the basement.
Logan fell into step behind me. We moved down the stairs and circled, looking for the basement entrance.
I began to move into the kitchen, then backtracked when I noticed the door with a sliver of a light underneath it.
I tested the handle. It opened, leading to their pantry.
What the fuck?
I began to turn around again. While their pantry was big enough for three of us to comfortably stand inside, there was no point—until a light flashed from the floor.
I paused, kneeling down to inspect it. It flashed again, like a flashlight moving below. I blinked in surprise. It was a hidden door. I touched the shelf, and it moved. Logan stepped in close, looking just as perplexed.
I pushed the door open wider. It moved, revealing carpeted stairs leading into their basement.
Jackpot.
I glanced at my brother, who nodded. He stepped aside to let me lead, and as we crept down, he pulled the door shut behind us. The only light downstairs came from underneath another closed door.
When we got to the bottom, we framed the door where the light was shining. I surveyed the room behind us. There were two more doors. A larger room behind us. All the lights were off. I stepped back, wanting to clear the rest of the basement.
When Logan saw what I was doing, he went with me. We moved fast and were soon back in position. I waited, meeting his gaze. Was he ready for this?
He gave me a nod.
All right then. Here we go.
I turned the knob, letting the door swing open.
Zeke’s desk spanned the entire wall. There were multiple computer screens. A plastic mat covered the floor, and as he worked, he cursed, then wheeled his chair over to type away on a different computer screen.
I’d never witnessed hacking. I had no frame of reference, but this wasn’t what I expected to see. Zeke Allen had been a jock in high school. Baseball, I thought… He frowned in concentration. A couple of energy drinks sat next to him, along with a bowl of candy. He was shirtless with sweats. There were barbells on the floor beside the desk. A kitchenette was in the corner of the room with a microwave and a small refrigerator. He’d pulled out some water and a beer, leaving them on the counter beside the sink. A Keurig machine sat in the corner.
“Fuck…shit,” he muttered. “Not today, asshole. Not. Today.” He hit a button and froze. Then he shot out of his chair and whooped, throwing his arms in the air. “Fuck yeah! Take that. I got you, you little piece of—” He shoved the chair away and bent down to keep typing, but when he looked back to see where his chair had gone, he saw us instead.
Fear flashed. It took a second before he understood what was happening. He sprang, going for his desk. His hand reached for something under it.
We jumped first. I launched myself at him, tackling him, and I rolled him all the way away from his desk and chair. I didn’t know what he was reaching for, but I wanted to be safe in case there was a gun stashed underneath.
During the roll, he started fighting.
I kept my grip on him tight and shifted my leg to block his kicks.
He tried to get to his feet. Logan was there, but I grabbed his ankle and yanked. Hard.
He fell flat on his face.
He roared and was in the air in the next second, red in the face and swinging. The fight was quiet, but it was violent. We didn’t goad him. Instead we were silent, calm. He was desperate to get away from us, and he knew he was going to lose. His eyes were dilated, panicked. He just hit and hit and hit. For the most part, Logan and I continued to block his hits until he began to tire out. Once that began to happen, Logan raised his eyes to me.
I nodded.
We rushed him again, taking him to the ground. I reared up, coming down with one last punch to knock him out. His body slumped. He was unconscious.
We worked quickly to clean any evidence of our struggle. When we were done, the room didn’t look as if a struggle had happened. We took his phone, wallet, and keys. Everything went with us, including his truck. A note was left behind that he needed to run an errand. His computer was still unlocked so we searched for the security cameras, erasing us. Logan was still at his computer when I returned after carrying Allen to his truck and loading him in the backseat.