by Lauren Rowe
“Yeah, Oksana’s like this frickin’ old-school madam,” Henn says. “Probably not the brains behind all the tech stuff.”
“She’s probably got a business partner who handles the tech side of things,” Jonas says.
“Definitely,” Henn agrees. “And whoever that person is, he or she knows exactly what the hell they’re doing. Because there’s no finding these guys by accident. And even then,” Henn continues, sipping his beer, “their storefront is just a shell. Their real shit’s gotta be buried way down in the Deep Web. And that’s a scary place.”
“What’s the Deep Web?” I ask.
Henn grins broadly at me.
“Is that a stupid question?” I ask, blushing.
“Oh no, not stupid at all. I’m just so used to hanging out with computer geeks all day long, I forget normal people don’t know about this stuff.” He smiles at me again. “I’m glad you don’t know what it is. It means you’re probably a well-adjusted, happy person.”
I laugh. “I am, as a matter of fact.”
“I can tell,” Henn says. “Happiness is a very attractive quality in a person.”
“Thank you,” I say. My eyes flicker to Josh and I’m shocked to see he’s already staring at me—looking at me like he wants to fuck my brains out, actually. My skin sizzles and pops, yet again.
Josh clears his throat. “So, guys, before Henn launches into The Grand Story of the Deep Web, how about we all do a shot of Patron? We’re in Vegas, after all—when in Rome.”
“Sounds like a fabulous idea to me,” I say. “Do we have Patron in the bar?”
“Of course,” Jonas says. “I made sure of it. My brother is nothing if not predictable.”
Josh strides purposefully behind the bar, grace in motion, flashing me a come-hither stare as he goes.
I feel like he’s pulling me on a string. “I’ll help you out, Playboy,” I blurt, bounding over to the bar.
“Why, thanks, Party Girl,” Josh says.
I stand next to him in the bar and lean into him, involuntarily drawn to his sheer physicality. He leans his muscled body into mine and whispers softly in my ear. “You ready to cut the middle bullshit yet, Party Girl—see how this story ends?”
“That depends. Are you ready to give me your application?”
He laughs. “I told you—I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”
“Well, then. I guess not.”
Ten
Josh
“You’re freaking me out, Henn,” Kat says.
She’s responding to Henn—he’s just finished explaining the difference between the Surface Web (the “Internet we all know and love” where anyone can “Google a sushi restaurant”) and the Deep Web (the “ink-black waters below the surface” where “jihadists and drug warlords and fucking human traffickers” operate)—and it’s obvious from Kat’s facial expression she’s completely horrified by what she’s just heard.
“How have I never heard of this before?” Kat asks. “Have you heard about this, Sarah?”
Sarah shakes her head, exactly the way Goofy would. I can’t help but chuckle at the sight of her. The more I get to know this girl, the more I love her. She’s smart and sweet and a total ass-kicker, on the one hand, and yet the dorkiest, goofiest girl I’ve ever met on the other. I don’t think I’ve met anyone quite like her before—and I’ve especially never met anyone better suited for my brother.
“Kinda freaks you out when you hear about it for the first time, huh?” Henn says.
“Totally,” Kat agrees. “It reminds me of when I found out there are trillions of invisible microbes on my skin at all times.”
“Please don’t talk about that whole microbes-on-your-skin thing,” I say. “That always creeps me out.”
Kat bursts out laughing and I join her. It’s easy to laugh when Kat does—the girl laughs like a dude.
Henn continues his tutorial, explaining in detail how he only uses his hacking-superpowers for good. “I leave no trace, take nothing, do no harm,” Henn says, “unless I’m being paid to leave a trace, take something, do harm, of course. But I only do that kind of thing when I’m positive I work for the good guys.”
“But how do you know you’re working for the good guys?” Jonas asks, clearly skeptical. “Everyone thinks their cause is righteous. Hence, the concept of war.”
I’m about to jump in and defend Henn, but he clearly doesn’t need my help.
“Well, yes, of course.” Henn looks right at Kat and flashes what I imagine he’s hoping is a charming smile. “But let me show you how I tell the good guys from the bad guys.” He looks right at Sarah. “Sarah, are you a good guy or a bad guy?”
“A good guy,” Sarah says.
“And there you go.”
Sarah shrugs like it makes perfect sense. “And there you go,” she says.
Jonas is clearly not impressed. “But who would ever say they’re one of the bad guys? Who would even think that about themselves? People are brilliant at justifying their actions to themselves—trust me, I should know.”
“Well, yeah,” Henn concedes. “But I don’t always believe people when they say they’re one of the good guys. In fact, I rarely do. If I believe them, the way I just believed Miss Cruz here, then that’s good enough for me.”
“Aw, you believe me, Henn?” Sarah asks.
“I do. Indubitably.”
“Why, thank you.”
“Of course.”
“Sometimes, it’s a no-brainer,” Henn continues. “Like when a job comes from Josh, for example, I always know I’m fighting for truth and justice and the American way, no questions asked. Because a guy can set his moral compass to Josh—he’s always one of the good guys, through and through.”
Thank you, Henn.
Now here’s a guy who’s got a brother’s back, unlike Jonas. I glare at my stupid brother, sending him a nonverbal “fuck you” for the way he let me twist in the wind in front of Kat the other day—but Jonas is too engrossed in staring at Sarah like a lovesick puppy to notice me.
“Thanks, man,” I say to Henn.
“Just speaking the truth,” Henn replies.
“Well, well, well,” Kat says, arching that bold eyebrow of hers. “It turns out the Playboy’s a good guy, after all—Mickey Mouse roller coasters notwithstanding.”
I smile broadly.
She bites her lip.
Oh man, I can’t wait to fuck this gorgeous woman. It’s gonna be so fucking good.
“So, Henn,” Jonas says. “If The Club lives in the Deep Web, how the fuck do we find them and take them down?”
Henn proceeds to explain his strategy for implanting malware onto Oksana Belenko’s computer. In essence, Sarah’s got to pay a personal visit to “the pimpstress extraordinaire,” as he calls her, obtain her email address, and then send Oksana an infected email on the spot, which Oksana’s got to open in Sarah’s presence. Sounds kind of hairy to me, actually—I agree completely when my brother insists on accompanying Sarah on her mission.
“But they think I’m playing you, remember?” Sarah protests in a huff. “Why on earth would I bring you with me if I’m scamming you?”
“I don’t know,” Jonas says, crossing his monstrous arms over his chest. “Use that big-ass brain of yours to come up with something they’ll believe.”
Sarah sighs in frustration.
“It’s non-negotiable, Sarah. We’re doing this together or we’re not doing it at all.”
Sarah huffs. “Why would I bring you to meet her? It makes no sense.”
Jonas looks at me, obviously inviting me to come up with a suggestion, but I’ve got nothing.
“They think I’m playing you,” Sarah says slowly, like she’s thinking out loud. “Why would I bring you with me?”
“I don’t know, but it’s non-negotiable.”
“I heard you the first time, Lord-God-Master.” Sarah crosses her arms over her chest. After a moment, she picks up her champagne flute and ambles to the floor-to-ceiling
windows on the other side of the room. Nighttime has descended on the city while we’ve been talking and The Strip’s dazzling display of neon lights is sprawled out before us.
“Wow,” Sarah says, staring out at the expanse of lights. “It’s beautiful.”
We all get up and take in the view alongside her, drinks in hand.
“Let’s take a photo, Sarah,” Kat says. The two girls smile for a selfie on Kat’s phone, followed by Jonas and Sarah, at Kat’s urging.
“You two look good together,” Kat says to Jonas. “Really good together.”
At Kat’s words, Jonas looks like a fucking kitten being stroked. Aw, Jonas. Shit. It’s times like this I remember my brother’s gone his whole life without a single person other than me telling him how fucking awesome he is.
“Don’t post those pics anywhere, Kat,” Henn warns. “We don’t want the bad guys knowing we’re on their turf.”
“I won’t post them; don’t worry. I just want to remember being here in Vegas with my best friend for her first time.” Kat wraps Sarah in a warm hug. “Thank God you’re okay. I was so worried about you. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.” Sarah says, nuzzling into Kat’s blonde hair.
I can’t take my eyes off Kat and Sarah right now—especially Kat. Yeah, she’s gorgeous, but I already knew that. Yeah, she’s sassy as hell. But, watching the way she’s so tenderly kissing and hugging Sarah, it’s suddenly dawning on me she might also be… dare I say it... sweet? Huh.
Sarah whips her head up and gasps. “I’ve got it,” she says.
“You’ve got what?” Kat asks, brushing Sarah’s dark hair out of her face.
Sarah disengages from Kat, suddenly animated with an idea. “We use their greed against them.”
“That’s my girl,” Jonas says. “I knew you’d think of something.”
Sarah leaps over to Jonas and throws her arms around his neck, something she seems to do a lot, I’ve noticed. “This is gonna work.”
“Of course, it will,” Jonas says. “We’re an unstoppable team.”
Henn looks at his watch. “Okay, get your plan figured out and we’ll launch first thing tomorrow. I’m gonna work all night on my malware. I want to make sure whatever we send them is ironclad.” He grabs his laptop, clearly excited to get to work.
“Well,” Kat says, her hands on her hips. “While Henn’s hard at work cooking up a fancy virus, I guess the rest of us will have to find something to do in Las Vegas. Hmm.” She taps her finger on her temple like she’s solving an algebra problem. “What on earth could we possibly do in Las Vegas?” She raises her eyebrow at me, clearly inviting me to provide a suggested solution to the riddle.
“You like to gamble, Kat?” I ask.
Her face lights up. “I love it.”
How did I know she was gonna say that? “What’s your game?”
“Blackjack.”
“Lame,” I say.
“Excuse me?”
“The real fun is craps.”
“I’ve never played,” she says. “It seems complicated.”
“Nah, it’s easy. I’ll spot you a grand and teach you how to play.”
Her eyes pop out of her head. “I’m not gonna take your money.”
I love that she just said that—I can’t remember the last time a woman said anything even remotely like that to me, actually—but, of course, it’s out of the question.
“No, you’ve got to roll the dice for me, Party Girl,” I say matter-of-factly. “You’ve got first-timer’s luck and lady luck on your side, and they only let you roll when you’ve got a bet on the table.”
“Well, then, I’ll bet my own money.”
She tosses her golden hair behind her shoulder in what appears to be a misplaced gesture of defiance. Oh God, she’s such a sexy little thing.
“Kat,” Jonas says. “Let my brother pay for your fun.”
Thank you, Jonas.
Finally, for the first time ever, my brother has actually stepped in to help me with a woman. I open my mouth to thank him for his unexpected assistance, but the fucker keeps talking.
“There’s nothing Josh Faraday loves more than throwing his hard-earned money away on mindless entertainment,” Jonas adds.
I laugh. I knew it was too good to last. “That’s your idea of helping me, bro?”
Jonas shrugs.
“You’d be doing me a favor, Kat,” I say, turning away from my useless brother and fixing my eyes on Kat’s ridiculously beautiful face. “Betting on a first-time roller is the dream of every craps player—it’s as exciting as it gets. And I love excitement.”
Kat grins and bites her lip, her eyes blazing. “Okay, Playboy,” she says. “I’m in. You had me at ‘excitement.’”
Oooooooooh, I like this girl. My skin is beginning to tingle.
“But we’re all going out together, right?” she asks, looking at Sarah.
“Of course,” Sarah says.
“Where should we take these lovely ladies to dinner?” Jonas asks me.
My dick is beginning to tingle along with the rest of me. “It just so happens I know the perfect place,” I say.
“Of course you do,” Jonas replies.
“Do you ladies think you can handle a night out with the Faraday brothers?” I ask, but the only lady I’m looking at is Kat.
Sarah and Kat squeal with excitement, and Sarah throws her arms around Jonas’ neck for the hundredth time today. “Thank you, Jonas.”
I stride over to Kat. “Hey,” I say softly.
“Hey,” she replies, her blue eyes blazing at me.
“You ready to earn that nickname of yours, Party Girl with a Hyphen?”
Her eyes flicker at me. “I was born ready, Playboy.”
I hold her gaze for a long beat. She truly is the most spectacularly gorgeous woman I’ve ever beheld. I have the sudden, irresistible urge to kiss her. I lean in, slowly.
“Just as soon as you resend me that email that must have gotten lost,” she says, pressing on my chest and halting my forward progress. “The damned thing must have gone into my spam folder when you sent it earlier this week.”
“Gosh, Kat,” I say. “I didn’t send you an email this week.”
“No?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t have a vagina.”
“Oh, really? Huh. That’s too bad.”
“It’s too bad I don’t have a vagina?”
She smirks. “It’s too bad you didn’t send me that email. I was really looking forward to reading it.”
I smile at her. She might be the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever beheld, but she’s also the most stubborn. Jesus God. “You’re not gonna get what you want this time, no matter how sexy you are,” I say. “So you can stop banging your head against the wall. Wouldn’t want you to bruise that pretty forehead of yours.”
“You obviously don’t know me at all. I don’t back down,” she says. “I only get more determined.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
She squints at me. “We’ll see.”
“I guess so.”
She stares me down. When I don’t look away, her cheeks flush. She clears her throat. “Why don’t you ask Henn to come with us to dinner?” she says. “Since we’re obviously just gonna have a friendly dinner and nothing more, the more the merrier, right?”
“Great idea,” I say. “Henn, you wanna join us for dinner?” I call to him sharply, but I don’t take my eyes off her. My cock is rock hard. I’d pay any amount of money to have her sitting on it right now.
Henn doesn’t reply.
“Yo, Henn?” I call to him, devouring Kat with my eyes. “You wanna join us for dinner, man?”
“Oh, Josh,” Henn says. “How many times do I have to tell you? You can wine and dine me all you like, but you’re never gonna get me into bed.”
Kat chuckles.
I step close to her and brush her cheekbone with my fi
ngertip, and she abruptly stops laughing.
She parts her lips and lifts her face like she wants me to kiss her. My cock is straining for her.
I lean down and brush my lips as close as humanly possible to hers without actually making contact. “Laugh it up, Party Girl,” I whisper. “But Henn’s not the one I’m gonna wine and dine and get into bed tonight.” I pull back from her face and wink.
Eleven
Josh
“Hard four!” the dealer yells.
“Woohoo!” Kat shrieks.
“You’re on fi-yah, sistah!” Sarah shouts. She shakes her ass into Jonas’ crotch, and he gropes her ass and hips.
The dealer pushes a stack of chips at Kat and she leans over the craps table to collect them—which, of course, gives me the perfect opportunity to ogle her backside. Jesus. That sequined mini-dress of hers is barely longer than a men’s dress-shirt, and holy shit, she’s working it hard. Endless, toned legs. Sky-high heels. Long, tousled blonde hair cascading down her back. And a tight little ass to cap it all off. In summary, the girl is smoking hot. Gorgeous. Sexy. Beautiful. I can’t come up with enough praise to do her justice. She’s physical perfection.
An old dude in a Hawaiian shirt on the other side of Kat leans into her shoulder. “What number ya feeling, Blondie?”
Kat picks up the dice. “I’m not sure,” she answers. “I’m just gonna bet the pass line this time—I’m not getting a vibe.”
“Oh, I’m feeling a six for sure,” Sarah says confidently, wiggling her ass into Jonas’ crotch again. “I’m feeling hella sixy right now, baby.”
Jonas presses himself into Sarah and wraps his arms around her. “Oh, my precious baby’s feeling sixy, is she?”
“Yes, sir, baby-sir,” she says. “Sixy as hell.”
Jonas throws a couple thousand bucks in chips onto the table. “On six,” he says to the dealer, his free hand running up and down Sarah’s torso. “Always bet on Sarah Cruz.”