His latest escape had been four days. But, how long would it have been, MaryJo? Her inner voice raised the alarm. "If he hadn't seen the girl in the wreck last night." Releasing a distracted sigh, she frowned. Maybe she should take her earnings from the miserable hack project and plan a short getaway. "Go somewhere interesting." Become a little less available. If Travis was going to claim unavailability for the next several weeks, she deserved to make a few plans for herself. For fun. And maybe—to prove a point.
"Like that would be any fun." She opened her laptop. Running away from Travis wouldn't stop her from thinking about him. But, it would provide a little dignity to her bruised ego. "You've got to earn the money first, MaryJo." After another sip of coffee, she got back to work.
PATRICE SAT IN HER office, lights dimmed, her gaze glued to her computer screen. She'd been there all night, powered by energy drinks and satisfaction—as she plotted the final scene. Travis was on his way in. The GPS she'd planted on his car indicated he'd left the Mullaney woman's house at seven. A night of great sex with his naive, trusting, soon-to-be-ex girlfriend would ensure his good mood. She wanted him happy. Light-hearted. "Before I crush him."
Visions of Travis had fueled her during the night. Imagining the joy in his eyes over his wonderful new relationship—before she destroyed him with the evidence that his precious MaryJo had crashed his stupid gaming system. It wouldn't be long now.
For a month, she'd laid out the breadcrumbs and the Mullaney girl had nibbled each and every one. Just for fun, she'd hidden a few ticking time bombs, to test how perceptive she was. Thus far, she'd found them all. But, she'd also started making noise. Obviously suspicious over the mystery client's ludicrous demands, she'd stepped up the pressure on her father to call off the audit.
The awkward, nerd hacker might be good, but she'd been flying blind in Tiberius' system. Despite closing several gaps Patrice hadn't believed she would find, Mullaney's systems knowledge couldn't filter everything. When she'd stopped working a week or so back, Patrice had been livid. Then, her old man had called. Quizzing her about the system being live. Suggesting they suspend the contract until Patrice 'made sure she understood what she was doing'.
The Mullaney bitch was actually trying to force her hand? Leaning forward on her desk, she chuckled. Who did she think she was dealing with? "I should have run you down when I had the opportunity." Patrice had questioned her failure to act, acknowledging she'd spent too much time mulling potential outcomes.
"So unlike you," she tsked. Twice, she'd had the opportunity . . . and she'd allowed MaryJo to get away. In hindsight, injuring the Mullaney girl might have been better than destroying Travis. A personal blow was always the better choice. But—who the hell would've pegged her for a keeper? She'd monitored Travis for the better part of a year. He never kept any of them. She released an aggravated sigh.
Still watching the activity taking place on the server, Patrice startled when she noticed activity coming in from the outside. Checking her watch, she frowned. What the hell was Mullaney doing in there now? She should be at work—at her day job. If she caught anything now, she might impact the beautiful devastation Patrice had painstakingly planned for just a few hours from now. Unwilling to settle for less than a catastrophe where Lockwood was concerned, she picked up her phone, her gaze still locked on the screen. "We may need to shift to plan B. Get up here now."
Checking her watch, she waited. Her restless mind continued to turn over the unanswered question. Would Travis have suffered worse over losing her? Or would the crash and burn of his software release strike harder? A month ago, Patrice would have bet the house on his software. But, lately . . . She cursed under her breath. "I want him flattened." For daring to circumvent her. They could have sold out months ago. She would have turned a handsome profit and moved on to bigger targets. But Travis had stymied her every step of the way. And done it with a mocking smile on his stupid face. Drumming her nails on the desktop, she hesitated only a moment before picking up the phone. With any luck . . . she could ruin the release and his life. "On the same day." It rang only three times before it was answered. "Hey—I've got a quick job for you here. But—it has to be today. How fast could you arrange it?"
MARYJO WAS SHAKING as she dialed the phone. Pick up, she prayed. "Dad—we've got trouble."
"Hold up, Mojo." Sean's sleep-laden voice sounded irritated. "Jeez—I just got back in town last night."
"Who's your contact at the hacker company?"
"I talked to her like you asked," he insisted. "She didn't have any complaints. Said it was going great."
Her father's raspy growl failed to calm her. Because she knew. In her heart, she knew it would be terrible. "I think it's live, Dad," MaryJo choked out. "It's not a beta. It's live—and I've been damaging their work." Heart lodged firmly in her throat, she paced her living room, her gaze locked on the data cascading across her laptop screen. "I think . . . I think I may have just crashed something-" Wait a minute- She? "Who is she?"
She heard the sound of shuffling papers as her father pulled the file. "She was real low profile- PJ something. Hang on a minute." Time stood still as she waited for him to pull the damned file. "Hurry."
"Here it is. She signed all the consent forms with PA Dobrovic."
He spelled the last name for her as she jotted it, her hand shaking. Something was wrong. So terribly wrong.
"She gave her address as a PO Box here in town, but I made her give me the physical address."
She wished—just this once, that her father's gruff, certain voice would reassure her. But her hands were cold. Trembling. MaryJo knew—something terrible had happened.
"I cross-referenced it back when we signed the contract. It's a company out in the Hayden Executive Park. Everything checked out, MaryJo. She just wanted to keep the company info confidential."
"I'm going to do a search on her," she announced, relieved to feel heat pumping through her instead of fear. If something weird was going on, she would damn well find it. "She signed all the consent forms, right?"
"Now sweetie, what do you take me for?" Her father's voice rose, amused and irritated at the same time. "No matter how good lookin' a woman is, I don't cut any corners. Tough blondes never did it for me anyway."
Chapter 14
"She knows." Seated behind his desk, Travis ran his hands over his face, his stomach queasy with certainty. He'd blown it—with his stupid selfishness. His need to control—everything. To run when things got too close. And MaryJo knew. She could read him—like no one else.
He'd awakened to her slipping out of bed. Her smile genuine . . . until he'd panicked. "How did I go from half asleep to get-the-hell-outta-there?" His skin had crawled with the need for distance. From his words. From the damned, too-good-to-last happiness. From the possibility he could have everything he'd always denied himself. From the possibility he could lose it all.
After the most amazing night of his life he'd wanted . . . to flee. And stay. He'd wanted to hold her. To hear MaryJo say those words again. That she loved him. That she would never take them back. No matter how stupid or crazy or desperate he acted. Instead, he'd chosen flee.
The moment he'd crossed the porch, despair clawed his gut. Tightened his chest. Shouted in his brain. Don't leave. He was walking out on . . . happiness. Abandoning the love he'd never believed he'd find. Travis had wanted to turn around. Pound on her door. He'd wanted to hold her. Sit on her couch and confess . . . everything. Every horrible, awful incident that had twisted him into the screwed up person he was now. If only to remove the sadness from MaryJo's eyes. To make her finally understand how . . . unfixable he was. To make sure she knew—that no matter what she believed—it wasn't her. It was all him and his bone deep belief that he could never, ever be normal. Not even for her.
He'd read the hurt in her eyes. As she'd read him. She knew he was running. She knew he was—too afraid to move forward with her. But, she didn't know why. And the why was killing him. Because MaryJo would aut
omatically assume it was something she'd done. He could never be the man she deserved—but he couldn't bear her believing it was her fault.
"You owe her that much." Releasing a ragged sigh, Travis sat back in his chair. "Tonight." He would go there. Break up with her. Agony fisted his gut, catching his breath with a jagged edge of pain. The thought of never seeing her again- But after this morning he couldn't put her through any more. He would ruin her. He would siphon all the good from her. The hope. The sunny outlook. Until she was left hollow.
She would never be able to rely on him. Each time he ran, MaryJo would wait. Loving him. Patiently, at first. And then—less patiently. Hopeful he could conquer whatever demons drove him. Hopeful he would change. Until the day her hope ran dry. Until the day she finally realized he would never change. That day, she would begin hating him. And she would leave. He'd lived with the monster inside him—reminding him he was worthless. Reminding him he was—nothing. Unlike MaryJo, he held no illusions.
"Travis, can I have a moment of your time?"
Raking an agitated hand through his hair, Travis shelved his miserable thoughts, if only to protect them from Patrice's vicious claws. Her gaze ran over him, leaving him with the dangerously violent desire to wipe the amused smile from her face. "What do you want, Patrice?"
PA DOBROVIC STOOD FOR Patty Anne of the Winsokie, Wisconsin farming family known for their seven children and two bankruptcies. MaryJo frowned at her screen, willing the information to materialize faster. Patty Anne had married a Jason Schneider after four years on scholarship at UWI. Her Winsokie Eagles yearbook picture indicated a vivacious, but suspiciously bleached blonde. "Damn it, come on," she muttered to the page loading too slowly. She read for several minutes, scanning the divorce decree. With a sizable chunk of Jason's family money, she'd moved on to Stanley Albrecht, moving east to Pittsburgh.
"A hub compared to Winsokie." Two years later, Patty Anne had moved on from Stanley. "And Albrecht Steel. Damn, she's good." As she scanned the next page, MaryJo's heart skipped. Blinking as the page suddenly blurred before her eyes, a terrible coldness invaded her skin. Scrubbing the goosebumps on her arms, she sank to the desk chair. "Oh, God—no."
Patty Anne Dobrovic Schneider Albrecht. After the divorce from Albrecht, she'd changed her name to Patrice. And married a guy named Reynolds.
"Oh my God . . . Travis. What have I done?" Sean's words returned to haunt her. A tough blonde. Her nerveless fingers fisted to her lips, MaryJo lurched to her feet. She had to go there. Tiberius. She had to tell him. How would she begin to explain? That she'd hacked a system without even knowing the company? Without asking any questions? Without caring that she might be damaging someone? Travis would be furious with her.
All the hours he'd worked. His team . . . was exhausted from dealing with the bugs in their program. Travis had been punishing himself for the problems, both physically and mentally. Questioning his talent—his leadership. While she'd unknowingly been putting him through hell. How could she ever possibly justify her carelessness- Her eyes filled with tears as she fumbled to find her keys. For the better part of a month—she'd been hacking Tiberius.
UNABLE TO SIT STILL, MaryJo paced the atrium-styled lobby. She'd announced herself at the desk . . . her very first visit to Tiberius. And quite possibly her last. Travis knew she was here . . . yet, she was still waiting. She'd driven there like a maniac, hoping . . . praying she would get a chance to explain herself before he discovered anything was wrong. She would be able to fix it. Of that, she was absolutely certain. But the damage to his software . . . was the big unknown. She'd triggered something this morning—a logic bomb—that Patrice had likely set ahead of time.
Glancing at her watch, she released a ragged sigh. Fifteen minutes. Not a good sign. Either he knew about the breach and was going crazy trying to shut it down—or he knew nothing yet . . . and he just . . . didn't want to see her. After last night—after his strange reaction this morning—she no longer knew what to think.
She finally saw him, striding across the vast lobby. Nearly weak with relief, she closed the distance between them. And then hesitated as Travis drew closer. The expression on his face caused her to stumble before she skidded to a stop. The bleak resignation etching his features was nothing she'd ever seen before. As though a mask had been stripped from his face—and this was the real Travis. In only three hours, he'd become an icy stranger. The hollow, frigid animosity she read in his eyes sent pain rippling through her chest. "Travis?"
"Let's get this over with, shall we?"
"CAN YOU DENY IT, MARYJO? That you've been inside Tiberius? That you've—hacked into my software?" Travis had pulled her into a conference room, away from prying eyes, at least temporarily. His heart beating painfully fast, his chest felt almost too tight to breathe. Damn it. He'd trusted her.
"No. I can't deny it." Her eyes tortured, her voice wavered. "If you'd let me explain-"
"Like I'm going to believe you? When you've been lying to me? When did it start, Mariela? That first night? In the tree? You were probably spying on me then."
"No-" The single syllable was laced with anguish.
Good. She should feel terrible. He'd caught her in an act of sabotage. She'd set out to destroy him—and damn near succeeded. Despite his fury—despite his disgust with her, Travis felt her misery like a sucker punch straight to his gut. Shaking his head, he laughed at himself. It was an ugly strained sound. What a pathetic idiot he'd become. No—he corrected, he'd apparently been that all along. "Why would you do it?"
"It was a job, Travis. That's all. I didn't know-"
Great. He'd meant nothing to her. For the first time in his life, he'd taken a chance. For the first time, the idea of loving someone hadn't felt completely ludicrous. Foreign. Impossible. She'd made it possible. MaryJo had made the idea of it . . . something he'd begun to accept. Something he'd lowered his guard to. Hell—it was something he'd begun to believe. Without ever realizing it was something he'd missed—she'd made it something he needed now. To survive. He needed her. When he'd vowed never to need anyone. Never to rely on anyone. Loving MaryJo was now something he longed for. To find out now—she'd only been using him. Hell—she'd set him up.
"Did they pay you extra to fuck me?" Her gasp audible, MaryJo recoiled, staggering back as though he'd slapped her. Acknowledging he was dangerously close to losing it, Travis realized he didn't care anymore. He didn't want to care anymore. He wanted to hurt her—as she'd hurt him. He wanted her to feel violated. Exposed—in the cold, calculated way she'd exposed him. More than vengeance, right now, he needed the safety of his walls. The impenetrable fortress he'd taken decades to build. But—he'd stupidly, recklessly allowed her to dismantle them. Hell—he'd helped her do it. "Was it good for you? Or was that just an act, too?"
"Travis—stop . . . you have to believe me. As s-soon as I realized what we were doing-"
"You what? Came running to tell me?"
Her eyes widened. "Yes! Yes—I came here to tell you- Let me help you. I can stop it."
He snorted. "I think you've done enough damage."
"No." She shook her head. "When I figured out what Patrice was doing . . . my father and I were pawns-"
Arms folded across his chest, Travis willed the pain away. His lungs burning, each breath more painful than the last. He could only pray he didn't look as blindsided as he felt. "You know what, Mariela? I don't care. I don't care why you did it. I trusted you—and you . . . let me down."
Tears leaking from her eyes, she blinked them away. "No. You never trusted me. At least be honest about that."
Her voice trembling, he realized, incredulously—she was angry—with him. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"If you trusted me—you'd want my explanation. Your first assumption would have been there must be a logical reason. If you had faith in me, your first thought would be that I could never, ever do something so terrible—that I would never hurt you."
"Instead, your first reaction is th
is." Her face drained of color, eyes haunted, she opened her hands to him. "Fury. Accusation." Taking a step back from him, she picked up her purse. "You never trusted me, Travis. Maybe . . . you thought you could, but all you were really doing was waiting for me to fail you. To mistreat you—like your mother did."
Raising his gaze to the glass-ceilinged atrium, Travis shook his head in disbelief. "Psychobabble from a hacker. Well played, MaryJo. Way to deflect the blame on someone else." His accusation sounded hollow, even to him. She was wrong. He didn't want to believe it was true. He didn't want to win this battle. Yet—the evidence was overwhelming. She'd left him no choice. How could he possibly trust her now?
"You never truly believed what we had was real—You n-never planned on it lasting. You've been running since we met." Backing away from him, she inched to the door. "Now, you finally have proof you were right." She turned, hand on the door. "No explanation I give would ever be enough. All I can do now is provide excuses—to save my skin. None of which you'd believe." Pausing, she dug for her keys. "And frankly, I don't believe in excuses."
"So, this is my fault?" Disbelief warred with anger. How the hell had she managed to turn this mess around on him? When she'd set out to destroy him? "You have no part in it?"
"No—I was definitely involved," she admitted, stopping in her tracks. Her back still to him, she hesitated. "I got taken—just as you did. And I am more than w-willing to accept that mistake. My dad took a job for reasons that—turned out to be untrue. The client asked us to look for weaknesses-" Drawing in a shuddering breath, MaryJo released it. "They claimed it was so they could strengthen their firewalls. So—I hacked your system—not knowing it was yours." Her voice cracking, she drew in a deep breath. "And in doing that—I gave Patrice an avenue to damage your code."
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