Love 2.0

by Lee Kilraine

  Mira chopped up onion and celery and mixed it into the tuna with a spoonful of avocado oil mayo. Of course there was no bread to be found. Instead, she served the tuna on a crisp leaf of romaine lettuce, adding a handful of kale crisps that tasted about the way you’d think dried kale would taste—in other words not even close to two lovely pieces of soft whole wheat bread.

  She tucked two cans of guava juice into the crook of her elbow and carried the plates into Kaz’s office. He was still focused on his computer screen and still looking scrumptious in those darn glasses.

  “I don’t know about you, but I got hungry so I made us dinner.” She slipped one plate onto his desk and made herself comfortable on the sleek Danish style love seat in front of his office window.

  “Thanks.” Kaz didn’t take his focus from his work. He typed something into his keyboard at lightning-fast speed, then mumbled something under his breath and typed some more. When he paused to watch his screen again, he reached over and scooped some tuna up with a kale chip. That went on for another twenty minutes: Type, watch, eat, type, watch, eat—until he slapped his palm flat on his desk. “Ah ha! Found it. There’s where you came in. Uh-huh, I see what you’re doing. Sorry, boys and girls, time to shut it down.”

  To Mira’s ears it sounded like Kaz was playing a video game, but she guessed that fell under his game designer’s hat. Either playing his own or maybe even checking out the competition. He was so hyperfocused on whatever it was she wasn’t even sure he realized he’d eaten the tuna, let alone that she was sitting in his office. She got it. Oh boy did she get it. Accounting work had the same pull for her. Well, anything with math and numbers really. And over the last six months she’d also been absorbed in the online game she’d found, so yeah. She set her plate to the side and stood up to check out his bookshelves.

  That’s right—bookshelves were just as revealing as refrigerators. No surprise Kaz had a big collection of technical books. Computer code, electronics, robotics, virtual reality, and more. History and psychology books filled out a few shelves and also both classic and newer science fiction. She grabbed a ragged copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and sat back on the couch with her feet tucked up under her. She remembered reading the book in high school and loving it. See? Nerd. And she lost herself in the book.

  At some point Kaz’s voice broke through to her brain.

  “Damn, Mira, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were—”

  She held up one finger, the universal hold-on-a-second finger—not the other one—until she finished reading the paragraph. “Sorry, I was at a good part. What did you say?”

  Kaz frowned and held up his empty plate. “Sorry about ignoring you and thank you for the meal I apparently enjoyed.”

  “No apology necessary. Unless you’re apologizing for the contents of your refrigerator.”

  “Not into health food, are you?” His lips slid into a lopsided grin and his eyes warmed. “My brothers have the same complaint when they come over.”

  “The problem with health food is that it tastes like cardboard. Other than that, I hear it’s great.”

  He pointed at her. “You just haven’t had the right health food. I’ll cook you something for dinner tomorrow and if you don’t like it, I’ll stock the fridge with all the junk food you want while you’re here.”

  “Sounds like I win either way. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  * * *

  Kaz picked up the Rubik’s Cube he used as a paperweight on his desk and randomly twisted a few rows while he considered the least threatening way to broach her situation. And what it came down to was trust. Which meant he’d have to trust her, only he’d make damn sure he only exposed himself.

  “In order to help you, you’ll need to confide in me. And I know in these situations that takes time. And trust. Since trust can’t be one-sided for it to work, I’ll start. Okay?”

  “Okay.” She nodded once and crossed her arms, hugging herself.

  “I am the Wizard.”

  At first Mira didn’t move, sitting frozen and staring across at him. “You designed Zero Point?”

  “I did, yes.”

  She dragged in and released two big breaths and her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “I knew it. Oh, Dios. Thank you. Thank you for telling me. You don’t know what it’s been like. I mean, for a month I’ve been thinking and hoping you’d be the answer to my problem, so to have you tell me no—well, it was devastating—like getting hit by a two-thousand-pound bull.”

  Damn. Could he feel like a bigger bastard? He’d never done this in person before. Connecting online meant he never actually had to see the fear on a woman’s face or the tears tracking down her cheeks, but he knew it was there. He’d seen it on Suzie’s face five years ago when she’d reached out for his help. But when it was time to leave, she’d said her husband had finally agreed to the court-ordered counseling sessions. So she’d stayed. And one month later she was dead.

  “Before you get too excited, I’m not sure exactly what I can do for you yet. Let’s both take another deep breath and talk this through.” He set the cube back on his desk and removed the glasses he’d forgotten he had on. “It would help if you could tell me a bit about your situation.”

  Mira stared down at the now closed book in her hands, running her thumb down the edges of the cover, the soft fan of the pages breaking the silence of the room. Her moss-green gaze glanced up, darting over his face and around the room before settling on the carpet stretched out between them. She sucked in a breath and released it in a puff.

  “Okay, let’s start with the message. Is he an ex or a purely random guy?”

  “Ex.”

  “How long has he been an ex?”

  “Almost exactly a year now.”

  That’s wasn’t good. “This has been going on for a year?”

  “Yes, only I didn’t notice it right away. I mean, I’d run into him around town at different events, but he always came across as so casual that it seemed a coincidence. Most of the time he was on a date. It didn’t ring any alarm bells in the beginning, you know? But it kept happening. Too often and in too many odd places to be coincidental.”

  “I’m not a big believer in coincidence myself.”

  “That’s what I’m saying. We were only together eight months and I wasn’t a bitch when I broke up with him. I was nice about it. Who does this after a breakup?”

  Unstable psychotic abusing assholes, that’s who. Kaz clenched his jaw to refrain from any outburst that might add to her fear.

  “Did he physically hurt you in any way? Are you in fear for your life? I’m not trying to scare you, but establishing the danger helps determine the best course of action.”

  She shook her head immediately, her gaze looking everywhere but at his. “I’m not in fear for my life, no. He’s a calm person. Cool even. He never even raised his voice. I think that’s why I didn’t notice what was going on, you know? He swept me off my feet.”

  “So you broke things off because . . . ?”

  “I don’t know . . . something just felt . . . not right. At first his attention was flattering. He was charming and romantic with big, silly gestures. Before I knew it, the relationship felt like I was stuck on a high-speed train with no way to slow it down. Seeing each other once or twice a week wasn’t enough; he wanted three, four, five nights a week. And then there were the flowers and gifts. It was overwhelming; too much too soon. But it was when I realized I hadn’t seen my sister or any of my friends in months that I decided to end things.”

  He nodded. Not surprised her ex ticked all the boxes of a stalker. A rapid progression of the relationship. Romantic gestures that overwhelm. Limiting contact with friends and family. Because stalking is about control, and when a rejected stalker’s attempts at reconciliation fail, they often seek revenge.

  “For months afterward, whenever I ran into him, he was so nice that I’d wonder if I’d misjudged everything. I mean—not enough that I wanted to date him again,
but . . . and then two months ago my last boss dropped a hint and I’m pretty sure my ex got me fired—from my last three jobs.”

  “That’s a pretty far reach.”

  “Well, yes and no. Two of the jobs were with the same company but different divisions. And I’d gotten the lead for my last job from someone at my previous company, so there’s a big overlap and possibly a family connection to my ex. When I got downsized the last time, my boss said I’d gotten on the bad side of a big, influential family and suggested I move and start fresh somewhere else—so I did.”

  “Do you want me to look into it?”

  “No.” Without hesitation she shook her head. “No. I just want this to end. It’s been a really long and stressful year. I want to start over fresh somewhere where I don’t have to worry about him tracking me down again. I can’t live looking over my shoulder, nervous about when he’ll show up next. I’d like to get back to the job I’m qualified for, but the only way that can happen is if I get a new ID. A new social. That’s why I was searching for you. Someone told me you could do that.”

  “Legally, it takes a lot to get a new social security number. Obtaining an illegal one is a federal offense. It used to be an option decades ago but hasn’t been for a long time.” He shook his head, watching her closely. “Disappearing and starting over isn’t easy. And it’s exhausting and isolating in its own way. For it to succeed, you have to break off contact with your friends and family. It’s the only way to make it work. Not many people can do that. It’s always a last resort.”

  She stared at him, biting into her lower lip while she weighed that statement. “The thing is, once I realized he might have had a hand in getting me fired—all those coincidental run-ins with him—didn’t seem so coincidental, and other things I’d written off as weird but a fluke began to make sense. It all pointed to him and I got scared.”

  “Rightfully so. I mean, no one should have to live that way, but if you’re scared—it means you’re paying attention. It means you’re listening to your gut, and that’s good.”

  “Jeez, I don’t know. I’ve got the worst instincts.”

  “Yet you trusted them enough to ask for help. How did you end up getting pointed in my direction?”

  “Technically, I didn’t. Someone from a forum messaged me and said if a person needed to disappear, the Wizard was the guy to help. They sent me a link and that’s how I found your game, Zero Point. Actually connecting you to the Wizard took a bit of logic and luck.”

  Kaz sat back and took that in. The game wasn’t on the regular internet, the surface web most people accessed every day. It was on the Darknet, and that could be a dangerous place for someone who didn’t know what they were getting into. A whole counterculture of avant-garde creatives who didn’t play well with others thrived in its shadowy spaces.

  Some were there to explore and barter games and programs, but there was also a vast population of unsavory characters like hackers, scammers, and even terrorist recruiters. Hell, you could hire a hit man or a crew for a bank heist in the underbelly of the deep net. A person could find every service or perversion imaginable, both legal and illegal.

  Like a fake ID. He’d bet that had been part of the search that had led her down the sketchy back alleys of the web. She’d definitely been looking because a person had to download a special browser, like Tor, to access the Darknet.

  “What do you mean by logic and luck?” Although to his mind it was damn lucky she’d been given the link to his game and not another link from the bowels of the Darknet.

  “I’ve been playing Zero Point for over six months and I got in the habit of counting the players entering and exiting the game. The more I played, the more I noticed this curious thing. Every so often a new player would enter the game but never exit. They’d enter a yellow door next to the wishing well and disappear.”

  “That’s very observant of you.” When women sought his help, they left a toad next to the wishing well in one of the game’s virtual worlds.

  “Well, I was very bored and the game was about all I had. Logic led me to deduce whoever designed the game must be the Wizard. The luck came in when I went to GamerCon in Charlotte last month. I met up with one of the players from the game and she showed me a photo on her phone purported to be Zero Point’s reclusive game designer. You. CrankyPrincess27 thinks you’re the hottest nerd ever.”

  Well damn. He’d taken special care to make sure there were no digital breadcrumbs leading to his work with the underground. He’d never considered a superfan of Zero Point being the path to him. Although it hadn’t been just that. It had also taken Mira’s keen observations to make those two worlds collide.

  He’d definitely follow up on that and a few other questions still left unanswered. But for right now he needed to focus on Mira. “Do you think you can manage daily self-defense lessons? We’ll go over some body-weight exercises to increase your fitness and then spend some time learning how to minimize your digital footprint.”

  “Yes, I can handle it.”

  “At the end of the week you can revisit your options. Decide if disappearing is still what you think is best.” Kaz raked his gaze over Mira’s face, trying to gauge how she was doing. “I should wrap up my work by noon tomorrow and we can have our first defense session then.”

  “Great. I’m going to head to bed.” She stood, grabbing the copy of his favorite Douglas Adams book. “Okay if I borrow this? I’m at a good part.”

  “Sure.”

  He watched her exit, trying his hardest to avoid thinking about her in pajamas. In bed. He failed. Only he never got around to the pajama part. Just Mira. In bed.

  Kazimir Cates, what the fuck are you doing? The woman was off-limits. Full stop. Period.

  Yet something about this woman had called to him from the beginning. Something in her eyes—the way she seemed to hang back and approach cautiously like a young deer on the edge of an open field, sniffing the air for danger. Gently, with muscles twitching, ready to spring away at the first sign of trouble.

  His curiosity was piqued because it didn’t seem natural to her. She stared in wonder at life around her, at the sights and the people, as if she wanted to absorb it all, take it all in, experience life to the fullest—but something held her back. Was she timid because she felt hunted?

  He called over to the music shop, catching Holly before she closed up. Yep, the phone was still in the fishbowl. Frank the goldfish had taken a liking to it. Kaz regretted tossing it in, but he’d seen the fear in Mira’s eyes and reacted instinctively. What’s done was done. He asked Holly to fish the phone out so he could swing by and pick it up tomorrow. If the phone contained information that could be used as evidence for Mira to build a case against her ex, Kaz would get it. And if he couldn’t do it, he knew people with better forensic retrieval skills than his own.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mira’s morning started off fine. She even remembered to call her sister. She didn’t want her to worry when she couldn’t get hold of her because her phone was keeping a goldfish company. That was when her day took a hard right turn into not fine.

  First Vivian told her she’d been let go from her job with no notice, days after getting huge praise from her boss and the fabulous promotion and pay raise. And then the sucker punch . . . guess who Vi had run into?

  Ivan. Rat bastard conniving Ivan. Argh. Sure his condo was only minutes from Vi’s and maybe Ivan had her paranoid, but she didn’t believe he just happened to bump into her sister. The good news was Vi confirmed he was on his way to the airport, tickets in hand and luggage on his backseat, but wouldn’t you know he asked about Mira. Acid rose in her throat when Vi said, “Goodness, Mira, I’d forgotten how handsome he is. He asked me to tell you he misses you. I think the man wants you back.”

  Well, that conversation clarified one very important thing for Mira. Disappearing was no longer at the top of her list of options. Nope. Because she’d have to be an idiot to believe Ivan running into her sister was sheer
chance. Oh no. It was a cold-blooded, calculated asshole maneuver on Ivan’s part. He was sending her a message. Applying pressure by showing he could get to her sister.

  That might have been Ivan’s biggest mistake. Sure she’d admit she was scared after his message on her phone. Hell, she’d been scared this whole past year. But threatening her sister? The cold fear in the pit of her stomach morphed into white-hot anger.

  No, no, no, no. Mira paced around in Kaz’s guest bedroom, trying to pull her thoughts together. Ajos y cebollas! Time for a new plan, Mira girl. And it’s no longer just about you, so if you have to beg for favors or impose on Kaz for Vi’s sake, then that’s what you’ll do. First, she would calm down. According to Ivan’s message, she had three weeks before she really had to worry. But for her own peace of mind she wanted to get Vi out of Miami for a few days. To see her and reassure herself her sister was fine. Vivian was between jobs so she’d sell it to her as a minivacation.

  Mira left her room to search out Kaz and found him, where else, parked in front of his computer in his office speaking some foreign language into one of those slimline headsets. What language was that? Chinese? Mandarin? She hated to interrupt him, but really, really needed to.

  So she sucked in a breath and tapped on the open door. Kaz looked over, said something into the headset before covering the mouthpiece with his hand and gave her his attention. He was wearing those hot nerd glasses again, dammit.

  “Sorry to bother you, but can my sister come stay here for a few days?”

  “Of course, sure, no problem.”

  “Awesome. Thanks.” She left the room quickly, telling herself it was so Kaz could get back to the phone call and had absolutely nothing to do with wanting to kiss him until his glasses fogged up. Gah! She was losing it. Using her calling card again, she called her sister and talked her into coming to Climax for a quick break before she got too involved in job hunting and interviews.