by Lacey Dailey
And satisfaction brought it back.
See, it didn’t matter what type of answer I received. I didn’t mind the disillusions or the disappointments I was often met with. The answer was a reward in itself. Sure, the curiosity killed me, but I was brought back to life the moment my question was answered and I had new knowledge to build off of. Even if that knowledge totally fucking sucked.
It’s for that reason I had a spot on the Circuit board. That I even started hacking in the first place. Because sixteen years ago when I was met with a question I had no answer for, I went to the world-wide web for help. When I was met with nothing but online barriers, I learned how to break them.
I never got the answer I was looking for that day, but I got something better. A love for hacking that measured nothing else. Something that would never walk away from me or be yanked from my grasp. I mean, yeah, I might end up in prison one day dressed in a heinous suit and forced to get a haircut, but it’d all be worth it. I knew I wouldn’t regret it. Not when I could look around Circuit’s underground headquarters and know part of the place was just for me.
“Hey, bro.” I blinked, registering Wren’s hand clamping down on my shoulder as he walked past me and dropped into his desk chair. “What’s up?”
“Gas prices.” I reclined back in my chair and propped my feet on the edge of my desk.
Wren picked at the microfiber of the blinding yellow chair he was perched in. “You are not normal.” He smacked the side of his machine to power it up. “Sage told me she’s heading to your place because Brett has to talk to her. Everything cool?”
For a split second, I contemplated keeping my mouth shut. The last thing I wanted to do was upset Brett after he’d confided in me. But then I remembered once Sage knew, his secret wouldn’t be a secret any longer. “Brett’s telling Sage he dropped out of college.”
Wren’s eyes widened behind the lenses of his glasses. “No shit?”
“Shit,” I confirmed. “I went with him to withdrawal two weeks ago.”
“He took this long to tell her?”
“He didn’t want to upset her, bro. Can you blame him?”
“Well, of course not. I get it."
I could always tell when Wren was worried or feeling anxious by the way the freckles in his face moved with the tension he had coiled inside his body. When he was really freaking out, they jumped all over the damn place, straining against the muscles in his face. Now, those little freckled friends were calm as could be. And just the idea that Wren thought Sage would take the news well seemed to smooth my edges out. If Sage was okay, then Brett was okay.
“What’s he gonna do now?”
“Don’t think he knows yet.” I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to get rid of the stiffness that came with thinking about Brett upset. “But I’ll help him figure it out.”
“Apollo is here! Have no fear!” August shouted over the clunk of the elevator doors opening. He strode into Circuit dressed like he just came from the gym when he was actually lounging on his mom’s couch. “What are we talking about?
“Ace’s boo bear dropped out of college,” Zelda drawled, rolling across the concrete floors in her chair. Her desk was the one directly behind mine, though she rarely sat at it. She spent her evenings here with a laptop resting on her thighs while she pushed herself around the building.
Girl couldn’t sit still for shit.
“Hey!” My feet hit the floor with a thud. I pinned her with a glare worthy of an award. “There is one person on this earth who calls him boo bear. That is me.”
“Such a shame he doesn’t know.” She catapulted herself across the room, waving at me with an evil glint in her eye.
If I didn’t already know how loyal Zelda was, I’d be nervous she’d go expose my inappropriate nickname.
“Why did he drop?” Wren wondered, adjusting his glasses.
"It just wasn’t his thing anymore, man. Sage wasn’t the only who changed after what happened to her, ya know?”
He nodded, grabbing a bag of gummy bears from the edge of his desk. “I get that. He doing okay?”
“He’s good.”
It was a short answer, but I knew Wren wouldn’t push. Fact was, no matter how safe Circuit felt, I didn’t want to discuss Brett. I didn’t want to air out his struggles and feelings like dirty socks on a clothesline. My loyalty shouldn’t depend on his presence. If he wanted Wren to know, he’d tell him.
And yeah. Maybe I felt a bit special. Honored that Brett confided in me. Looked toward me for that necessary reminder to breathe. I hoped he knew I wasn’t just listening to his words, but recognizing how hard it was for him to say them.
“Ahhhh.” August let out a sigh and grinned at his computer. “There is nothing like firing up Lassie and getting ready to take her for a spin. I will tell you what, if someone offered me a substantial amount of money to spend a whole night here without touching my machine, I wouldn’t be able to do it.”
“I know, right?” I agreed. “Asking me to come inside here and not fire up my machine is like asking me not to jack it when I watch porn.”
“Word!” August shouted, turning and stomping up the stairs to the loft that held a plethora of snacks and goodies.
“Do you ever think about something that isn’t porn?” Zelda whizzed past me and thumped me on the back of my head.
“Nope.” I flipped her off. “You should take a ride with me. Don’t play music in my car. Just sounds of dudes playing with other dudes.”
Wren choked on a handful of gummy bears. His face turned bright red as he struggled not to laugh. A little bear slipped from between his lips and smacked the concrete when his chuckle got the best of him.
“Dude,” he wheezed. “You kill me.”
“You just killed that gummy bear.”
“I’ll have killed the whole damn colony when I’m done with this bag.”
“Touché.”
I turned back to my machine and placed my fingers against the keyboard, feeling that little zap of adrenaline I got each time my fingers grazed the tops of the keys. At a record breaking pace, I typed in the three passwords it took to get me inside my system.
I adjusted myself in my chair and leaned forward, ready to wreak havoc and rain some hell down on those who deserved it. Just as I was about to launch into Mischief, my phone went off. I unzipped the pocket in my sweats that held my iPhone and slid it free, unlocking the screen. I was expecting to find a message from Brett. Messages from him made me happier than a camel on hump day. But it was not Wednesday and the message wasn’t from Brett.
It was an email. One that was sent to the email I used for Tranquility Spa.
Bleck.
There was a fat chance it was someone trying to push their clients off on me, or a notification telling me someone had to cancel or reschedule an appointment. All lame, mundane stuff that could wait until morning.
A quick glance at the sender’s email told me my first assumption was dead wrong. The email address was not one I recognized. I sat back in my chair and opened the message, brows furrowing at the lone sentence that stared back at me.
You look just like him.
What the fuck?
I glanced at the sender’s email once more, double checking someone from the Spa wasn’t screwing with me. I didn’t know who the hell I was supposed to look like, but I began to think this email was not intended for me.
“Dude, look at this.” I thrust my phone at Wren. “I think someone has the wrong email address.”
He extended his arm and grabbed the edge of my phone with the tips of fingers, almost dropping it on the ground before he held it in front of his face. “What the hell?”
“Right? Cryptic.”
“Who sent this?”
“I don’t know, man. It came through on the email I use for the spa. Maybe somebody saw it in the employee database and clicked on mine instead of whoever this was supposed to go to. I wonder who they look like. Should I message back?”
; “If I were you,” August started, coming back down the stairs with a bucket of cotton candy in his hand. “I’d just do a little digging and use IP-geolocation.”
“Aug, come on.” Wren shook his head. “You know he can’t do that.”
There were only two rules at Circuit. They were straight to the point and easy to remember.
1. Remain Anonymous
2. Never use hacking for evil or personal gain.
“I don’t really see how Cruz could get pissed at you for checking up on yourself.” August shrugged, fluffy sugar sticking to his lips. “We can wait until he comes in and ask him, but the fact of the matter is… we’re criminals, man. We have identities nobody outside this place knows. Cryptic messages shouldn’t be taken lightly. We all know that.”
Wren and I shared a glance. The kid had a point. A good point.
I shrugged my shoulders and took my phone from Wren, turning back toward my computer. I had my doubts Cruz would pull the asshole leader card and kick me out of the organization for ensuring people weren’t privy to information they shouldn’t be.
It took less than two minutes before an IP address flashed across my computer screen. It took a few more minutes to turn that address into a location.
Boo-yah.
I studied the screen and the red dot that signaled my location, trying to figure out if I knew anybody in Indiana. I deepened the search, confused eyes on the screen as a more precise location came into view.
My fingers went still against the keyboard. My body jerked so hard, I could’ve sworn the earth stopped moving. After all the reminders I’d given Brett about breathing, I couldn’t seem to do the same for myself.
“Ace. Hey, you good?”
I shook my head, only half hearing Wren’s words. There was a faint noise in my ears. It sounded like sizzling. As if something was about to catch fire. I swallowed rising vomit, unable to pull my eyes off the screen. It wasn’t just a fire on the horizon. It was a full-on explosion.
“Terre Haute Federal Prison,” Wren choked, his voice right beside me. “Ace, that’s—"
“Kade Wilson.”
I stared at myself in the now blank computer screen. I wrapped my knuckles around the edges of my desk. They whitened beneath the force of the grip. I cocked my head and studied all my features. My eyebrows were a shade darker than the hair brushing the tops of my shoulders. My nose was a tad crooked from that time in fifth grade I tried to do a back flip off a diving board and failed. My jawline was sharp and lips full. Despite being one of the only queer people in high school, I didn’t hold a lot of insecurities about the way I looked. If anything, I thought I drew a good card in that hand and did what I could to make sure I was always confident with the man in my reflection. In this moment, I wanted to throw my fist at that man and whoever the hell Kade Wilson thought he looked like.
“Does this make sense?”
“How did he get Ace’s email address?”
“How does he know Ace?”
“Does he know about Mischief?”
“Are we even sure it was Kade?”
“It’s Kade.” The room went dead silent the second Cruz’s voice filled it. The onslaught of questions nobody had answers to yet fizzled out.
Cruz didn’t shout, but he didn’t have to. His voice was deep enough to be heard, and we all respected him enough to shut the fuck up when he had something to say. Cruz didn’t talk much, and when he did, it was usually to himself, and in Spanish.
He strode down the center of the Circuit board, stepping over the cords that kept us all connected. Nobody made a sound while he climbed the two steps it took him to get to his station in the center of us.
From an outsider’s point of view, we’d probably come across like we were scared of Cruz. Shitting our pants like we just got sent to the principal’s office and he was threatening to call our mama’s. That wasn’t the case. We were quiet because we respected the hell out of him. If it weren’t for him, Circuit wouldn’t exist. Nobody knew a lot about Cruz, but we all knew that. With the help of some secret mentor and billionaire, Circuit was funded and created under Cruz’s direction.
Cruz looked at Wren first. “Thanks for calling.”
Wren nodded, gripping the back of his neck. “How do we get answers, Cruz? This man fucked with my girl and now he’s fucking with my best friend.”
“I called Marshall,” Cruz announced, sitting down in his chair. “He’s pulling some strings in the bureau, trying to figure out if Kade was given computer access. In the meantime, I want eyes on every single security camera inside that prison. Roll ‘em back. We need to know who has visited him, how often he uses the computer, what guards he speaks to, who else he’s emailing. Everything. Fuck. I wanna know how many times he shits a day. Let’s go.” He smacked his hands on his desk. “Vamos!”
Suddenly, there were sounds of chairs rolling across the floor, fingers clicking keyboards, mice moving across desks, and computer fans preventing any systems from overheating.
I did not move a muscle.
“Cruz.” Wren stood from his chair, his muscles flexing with tension and eyes clouded with worry. “Man, I—"
Cruz held up his hand. “There is no reason to believe this has anything to do with Sage.”
“This has everything to do with her, Cruz!” Wren shouted, face red. I jumped when his arm reared backward and he sent his keyboard flying across the room. It was so unlike him, all the sounds that filled the room just a few seconds ago halted.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted, my breaths choppy and uneven. “I’m fucking sorry. I don’t know how he knows me or if he’s using me to get to her.” I went dizzy. My sister’s kidnapper was sending me cryptic emails. The man we saved her from and theoretically buried into the ground was coming back to life to taunt her. Because of me.
If something happened to her, I would never forgive myself.
“I don’t fucking know anything, Wren!” I dug my fingers into my scalp and pulled.
“Ace, calmate.” Cruz was at my side. It wasn’t in his nature to comfort people. He didn’t put a hand on my shoulder or talk in a soft voice. He was demanding, straight to the point. “We don’t know shit. Get your head back on your shoulders and let’s get some damn answers. Sitting here and staring at your screen won’t do a damn thing. Right now, you’re Mischief and I’m Vandal. And we got some fucking work to do.”
I nodded and gave myself a mental smack across the face. Poured a bucket of ice water down my drawers.
Get it together.
It was not the time to pussyfoot around. Not the time to mope over the questions that didn’t have answers. I lifted my head and peered into Cruz’s dark eyes. He held my gaze and nodded once.
“We took this fucker down once already. We’ll do it again.”
I cracked my neck. “Let’s get to work then, No First Name Cruz.”
“Don’t call me that.” I ignored his steely gaze over my nickname for him. I knew damn well that Puerto Rican badass wasn’t gonna tell me or anyone else his first name. He was Cruz and Cruz only. When he was in the Dark Web, he was Vandal. And nobody knew why that was either or where that name came from.
I tried studying his tats once, to get some answers. Words and colors covered ninety percent of his olive-toned skin. I figured something about his past had to be on there. I was able to study them for about four seconds before he bitched at me to quit breathing on him.
No First Name Cruz was just another question I’d never get answered, but I thought I was okay with that. I respected nobody like I respected him. And right now, it was time for Mischief to lay some extra waste all over the filth that was Inmate 54765.
“First things first!” Cruz barked. “Does this fucker know about Mischief?”
“No.”
I turned to stone at the sound of her soft voice.
“He doesn’t.” My eyes found Sage across the room, standing next to the elevator with her purse in her hands.
“Sunshine.” Wren
barreled across the room, cupping her face in his hands gently. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough.”
Oh God.
“Wren,” I choked. Get her out of here.
“Let’s go home, babe. Come on.”
She dodged his attempt to pull her away and strode down to Cruz’s desk. “Kade is sending you guys messages?”
Cruz’s jaw went taut. “One. An email. To Ace.”
“She doesn’t need to hear this!” Wren snarled. “Sunshine, please. It’s okay.”
“Don’t.” She turned around, her hair flying behind her like a cape. “I can help.”
“You don’t need to help, phantom girl.” I stood up. “We got this.”
“Phantom girl.” She repeated my nickname with a soft smile on her lips. “My honorary code name. It’s high time I earned it, don’t you think?”
My lips pulled up. “Girl, you learn how to hack overnight?”
She shook her head and pushed her hair behind her ear. “Don’t need to hack. I spent almost two years held captive by that man, Ace. As hard as it is for me to talk about sometimes, I know him. I know how he operates. I know how his twisted mind works and how he justifies doing fucked up things. If he’s threatening the group of people who rescued me from hell, I want to help.” She pinned Wren with determined eyes. “I’m going to help.”
He held out a hand. “Come here.”
She bypassed the hand and walked straight into his chest, wrapping her arms around his middle. “If you think I’m gonna let you try to kick me out, you have another thing coming, Wren Wilder.”
I snorted. We were the criminals, but Sage Maddison was a bigger badass than all of us combined.
“Let’s get to work then,” Cruz boomed. “What can you tell us, Phantom?”
Sage straightened out of Wren’s grip, her gaze changing from sweetly in love to ready to beat some prisoner ass.
“What did the message say?”
I cleared my throat. “You look just like him.”
Her nose wrinkled. “What?”
“You look just like him,” I repeated. “That’s what it said.”