Connected in Code: (Ravage MC Rebellion Series Book Four) A Motorcycle Club Romance of Wrong Way & Hayden

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Connected in Code: (Ravage MC Rebellion Series Book Four) A Motorcycle Club Romance of Wrong Way & Hayden Page 1

by Ryan Michele




  Connected in Code

  (Ravage MC Rebellion Series Book Four) A Motorcycle Club Romance of Wrong Way & Hayden

  Ryan Michele

  Copyright © 2019 Connected in Code (Ravage MC Rebellion Series Book Four) A Motorcycle Club Romance of Wrong Way & Hayden—Ryan Michele—Wicked Words Publishing LLC

  * * *

  All Rights Reserved. This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction in whole or in part, without express written permission from Ryan Michele.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All sexually active characters portrayed in this book are eighteen years of age or older. Please do not buy if strong sexual situations, violence and explicit language offends you.

  This is not meant to be an exact depiction of life in a motorcycle club, but rather a work of fiction meant to entertain.

  * * *

  1st edition published: April 30, 2019

  ASIN: B07NKVS3CF

  Contents

  Series Books

  Blurb

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Other Books by Ryan Michele

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Thank You!!

  Series Books

  www.authorryanmichele.com/books

  If you’d like to get the full story, please begin with Connected in Pain.

  * * *

  Ravage MC Rebellion Series

  Connected in Pain (Crow & Rylynn Book 1)

  Fueled in Fire (Crow & Rylynn Book 2)

  Sealed in Strength (Crow & Rylynn Book 3)

  Connected in Code (Wrong Way & Hayden Book 4)

  Blurb

  A small job. That's all it's supposed to be.

  Get in. Get the information. Get out unseen.

  Simple, right? Not this time.

  * * *

  Hacker. Thief. Rebel. Lethal. At least that's what people say about me and they're right.

  Holding other's lives in the palm of my hand is an incredible power. One necessary to keep order and control.

  * * *

  The walls around me are built strong, but not strong enough for one man. A man who was a friend then turned into a lover. Someone I should've never tangled my life with.

  * * *

  Wrong Way is a member of the Ravage Motorcycle Club Rebellion chapter, known throughout the town as ruthless, all alpha bad boy biker and my next job. Therefore, strictly forbidden, but especially so now because we're enemies.

  * * *

  He's arrogant, brash and keen, knowledgeable about everything around him. Flying under his radar isn't easy. Therefore, hacking the MC's system takes finesse.

  * * *

  If my client doesn't get the information, my best friend will die. If I succeed and leave even a single trace of a digital footprint, Wrong Way will find it and with their family loyalty, the Ravage MC will kill me.

  * * *

  Every way, I run through the scenario, someone is going to lose. This time the power is out of my control and I have to find some way to stop it.

  Chelsea~

  Thank you for always being there.

  I wouldn’t be able to get though this crazy world without you.

  ~M

  Prologue

  Hayden

  The panic and fear they showed in the movies was all a farce. On screen, the actor’s eyes always tended to not have that one little punch that sold the scene for me. That twinkle that said everything in their world was about to explode was vacant from their expression.

  It was a hidden depth that could only be seen in someone who was experiencing the emotions as they unfolded around them, tearing at their gut and gripping them so hard they felt like crumbling under the scrutiny. It was that all-consuming panic. The kind that froze time.

  Currently, this was me.

  My world decided to collapse, sending me in a freefall. The kind where I knew I wouldn’t ever be able to catch myself in time.

  Either way, I was going to die. The options all left me with the same outcome. It was my choice if it was messy or clean.

  Fuck clean.

  Their blood would be on my hands before my last breath left my body.

  That was a vow.

  1

  Hayden

  The café was bustling with early morning traffic. All the locals coming in and out for their coffee of choice then rushing off to whatever day job they wasted their lives at. Only if they had smiles on their faces would I think differently. Most wore scowls, had the patience of a gnat, and their sour expressions only got worse when their coffee wasn’t just perfect.

  Earlier, one patron dumped a full cup onto the counter, spilling the liquid concoction everywhere. Without a single second of hesitation, the asshole left, leaving the employees to deal with their temper tantrum. The workers got backed up because of cleaning up the mess but recovered quickly.

  I liked my coffee too, but come on, people, this was no reason to be a dick! I had found in my time in this world, people thrived on being assholes, focusing on what was wrong instead of what they had going right.

  Life had taught me the hard way early on that the little things mattered, and it could always be worse.

  People came and went quickly, the workers behind the counter going at breakneck speed trying to feed the beast. Caffeine was the elixir of the gods, and these patrons needed their fix. It was far worse than meth or cocaine, except this one was legal. These days, no one thought about the shit they were putting in their bodies. Think about how much that simple drink was needed to start the day just right.

  Yet, no one seemed to catch on to how truly tight the hold coffee had on their minds and bodies.

  Everyone was in a hurry to get nowhere and everywhere at the same time. The vicious
cycle of life that rolled and rolled, never stopping, never taking a breather. The space, while not overly large, wasn’t cramped, but the lines of twitching, anxious customers remained steady.

  No one spared me a second glance, far too preoccupied to take notice of the change that was about to occur. The one that I had meticulously planned.

  Staring at the computer screen, letters, numbers, and symbols filled it, rolling at an incredible speed. The café had shit security, and hacking into their system was so easy a child with no computer skills could do it. With my mastery of networking, this was a walk in the park. Making it secure and untraceable was too damn easy, and in my line of work, it was a necessity.

  My guess, this place didn’t expect someone like me to come in and invade them, cracking into everything that ran on computers. People always underestimated others and their abilities. That was when bad things happened. Doubt everyone, trust nothing beyond what you could do for yourself.

  The tinkling bell over the door rang again, and in walked my target: an average man appearing to blend in with the crowd, in dress slacks and a white button-down shirt. He didn’t stick out. Instead, he blended in with all the morning commuters.

  A wolf in sheep’s clothing must always be watched.

  Never judge a book by its cover was the old saying. Mine was never judge a person based on their smile. In my experience, the ones you thought you could trust were, in actuality, the wolves ready to eat you alive.

  This man had come in every day this week, taking the same table by the window after getting his coffee.

  I sat at the opposite end of the café, my laptop open and covering most of my face, latte at my side, and a blueberry muffin I’d only taken a few chunks out of on the table. With all the other computers, tablets, and phones attached to their humans, it was the perfect spot for me to blend in.

  He ordered his drink, waited for it, then sat in the exact spot I pegged him for. The spot where no one could see his laptop screen. He wasn’t jittery or looking around him with any worry. Mr. Davidson was cool, calm, and collected as he sat there opening his laptop and beginning to ruin people’s lives.

  He’d been doing it for a while now. The way he had gotten over time and again without a second glance from anyone gave him a sense of safety and security here. As if he could do anything in the world and nothing would touch him. A huge mistake for him.

  I had the perfect view of him. While his front was to the window, his back was to a small alcove in the wall. Perfect for being inconspicuous, but still appearing to be one with the crowds.

  Giving him a few moments to get booted up and begin typing, I hit the send button on my laptop. Head down toward the screen, my eyes were focused on the man to gauge his reaction. The glasses covering my eyes were merely so should he look up and try to make eye contact, he would instead find a glare. They cost a mint, but it kept a target from being able to truly zero in on what I may or may not be looking at. Tools for my trade and every detail in my line of work mattered. The fake earbuds in my ears gave the illusion I wasn’t listening to everything around me.

  One would think I couldn’t hear anything with the hustle and bustle of the place, but it was one thing I was blessed with—fantastic hearing. I could hear a worker in the back complaining about their job and then one talking about an upcoming wedding. It wasn’t some supernatural bullshit. No hocus pocus. Just me being able to hear well. One thing that kept me alive.

  The moment Mr. Davidson opened the file his head shot up as he looked around the café in haste, checking around him for the culprit that invaded his space. It was the only time he let on that he was doing anything bad or wrong. It was like a nervous twitch with him because as soon as it came, it went out like a flash of lightning.

  Grabbing my skinny vanilla latte, I took a deep pull letting the warmth wrap around me. Damn this place made good shit, no wonder they were crushed. Even after this job was over, I’d come back. That said a lot for the café.

  Gazing at the screen, the HTML code started flashing rapidly, my computer saving every little scrap of code from Mr. Davidson’s hard drive, downloading it to a private server for safekeeping. Here’s a tip: You get an email from someone you don’t know, don’t click on the links inside said email. It was a bona fide recipe for you to get hacked. You may as well give the man or woman every password you’d ever had in your life because in no time at all they would be someone else’s knowledge.

  I had a plan B in place should the man be smart enough not to open the link. Frankly, I was rather surprised he allowed my task to be so easy.

  While I already had enough information on this asshole, it was a hackers craving to have all of it, every last scrap of detail. One never knew when it would come in handy. I never let the opportunity go to waste. Ever.

  Not that he’d have anything after the shit hit the fan.

  While the code flashed, I sent the second message from the same email address as the first. This one took almost a full minute for Mr. Davidson to click on. Peeking up, his face was white as a sheet, and a bead of sweat danced on his brow. Good. Not so cool and calm now, are you, asshole?

  He finally clicked the message, and that was when I saw the man tremble, full out and unabashed, like he’d seen his life flashing before his eyes. Inwardly, I smiled to myself knowing photo after photo was opening in rapid succession over and over, plaguing him with his dirty deeds. There were four hundred and thirty-five images to be exact. Each and every one showing that I’d been watching him for the past two weeks. Knowing what he’d been doing and digging as deep as possible into his life. He didn’t know me, but I sure as fuck knew him. Too well, unfortunately.

  When the photos transitioned, I could see the change immediately because his body jolted, his hands clenched, but his eyes were riveted to the screen. They were all photos he had on a supposedly secure cloud in the digital sky. It wasn’t secure, and he was a lowlife piece of shit who I really wouldn’t mind seeing taken from this earth.

  Knowing the pictures that were flashing, my stomach twisted, never being able to get the images out of my head. Some things could never be unseen. Some cases left scars behind, and this one would leave them for a long time. I vomited several times while doing this case, luckily able to get to the bathroom in time. Those images would be seared in my head forever, but I was doing something about it. If I had to look at disgusting, graphic photos to fix this and make this asshole pay for his crimes, then so be it.

  Mr. Davidson had an online porn site where viewers could watch very grotesque things while paying a steep fee. They could even request the activities for an even greater fee. Most of the women didn’t appear to be willing in them, and Mr. Davidson wasn’t opposed to any specific age range of girls. He liked them all.

  The case started off clean cut at first. My client thought one of his employees was using the company’s computers for something not company related. Their tech person couldn’t isolate it, so he called me. Two weeks ago I found out exactly what this guy was doing, and five days ago he started coming here, the café, instead of going in early to work to do his dirty deeds on company time.

  He had a general knowledge of computers and probably got suspicious of being looked into at his job. Mr. Davidson couldn’t have that. His business was too lucrative. We’re talking hundreds of thousands of dollars every few months.

  So much so, his day job was just so the tax man and authorities would see money coming in for him to pay his rent, live, and not get suspicious of all the ‘extra’ he had in a lock box at his bank.

  What do you want? he responded, now looking around the café with frantic eyes trying to search out the one who dared threaten him. Funny.

  For you to go to jail where a man named Spike will fuck you in the ass every … single … night. My response was catty, but I didn’t give a fuck because it was true, and, in actuality, that was being nice.

  Please. I’ll do anything, he pleaded.

  Awe. Wasn’t that cute? He thoug
ht he had a say-so in this matter. He thought wrong. Nothing he could do right now would appease me. Nothing.

  The case took on a brand new light for me once I found out what he was doing. It was this urge to see him fall to the depths of Hell and never to resurface. He needed to pay and suffer for what he’d done. No penance was too great. I wanted him to feel the scars on his soul the way those women would forever be changed by his greed.

  I had everything. The locations of where he did his disgusting deeds, the clients, the money transactions, even some of the girls’ names. With this last upload, I was hoping to find anything that could’ve been missed and get them. Not only was he going down, but his clients were too.

  Five million dollars. Wired to this account. 8675309 in five minutes.

 

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