by Danika Stone
He raised his fists, backing up.
“Warned me?!?” Jude roared, throwing another punch. This one met Marq’s gut with a thud. “You didn’t fucking warn me!”
“I did!” Marq gasped, deflecting another blow. “I… I tried to tell you…” he grunted as another fist slammed into his torso. “I tried to explain—”
Jude’s uppercut ended whatever he was saying. Marq stumbled back, nose bloody.
“Do you even realize what you’ve done?!” Jude bellowed.
“I’m sorry, man!” Marq cried, voice breaking. “I just couldn’t do this myself! I didn’t know how, Jude! I didn’t know—”
“Enough!”
Jude staggered out of the alley into the light. The knuckles of his right hand began to throb, heartbeat pulsing through his digits. He stretched his fingers once and again, finally shoving his hands back into his jacket. His fingers brushed against a folded envelope, and he winced. It held the public information on King, and the payout for the Trojan.
He had a pocket full of cash, but he’d trade it all for a do-over.
: : : : : : : : : :
Callum Woodrow sat in his office in the English Department, his foot tapping on the desk in annoyance. He didn’t have classes today, it was Saturday after all, but given the events of the morning, he needed something – anything! – to distract him. He brushed his fingers over his mouth, pausing on the broken flesh of his bottom lip. Two teeth marks marred the skin. Feeling it, the ghost of a smile brushed over mouth, then disappeared. He hadn’t seen her in months, but Indigo hadn’t changed at all. Cal scowled, as another thought intruded.
Except now she was with Jude Alden.
With a sigh, he lifted up the first of his freshman student papers, staring down at the title: Brontë’s Wuthering Heights: An Exploration of Romance and Revenge.
For ten minutes, he slogged through the paper, circling errors and writing notes in the margins. Reaching the end of the essay, he frowned, struggling to remember what he’d read. He couldn’t. Indigo was there instead, standing on the sidewalk dressed like a model in a magazine. She kept flickering to life in the apartment hallway too, but he pushed that thought aside.
He had one way he liked Indigo, and that was the one he focused on.
Cal took a slow breath, replaying the moment she’d turned, in her high heels and dress, looking at him with tortured eyes. It was Heathcliff and Catherine reunited. The only problem was that Edgar was standing there between them.
Cal tossed the paper and pen onto his desk, reaching for the computer’s mouse and clicking open his archived files. Years earlier, Cal’s marks had been audited by the Board, and that experience had taught him the virtue of a long memory. While Jude looked familiar, Cal couldn’t place him. He’d taught at the university too long for that; the memories of his students blurred together nowadays.
Cal clicked backward through the years, searching for the name Jude Alden. Seven searches in, he found him. Jude had been in his Classics of English Literature course. Cal’s nose flared in displeasure, jaw tightening as he read through an unexpectedly stellar list of grades.
Critical Essay #1: 95%
Critical Essay #2: 92%
Critical Essay #3: 94%
Somehow he’d been expecting Jude to be dim-witted or dull. With marks like this, in an advanced university English class, Jude Alden should be in a graduate program, but he wasn’t. Cal scrolled through the remaining grades, eyes widening as he reached the end.
Novel Study and Exploration: 97%
Major Project: 96%
Final Exam: 81% *Note: See anecdotal records
Cal clicked open the link to his course notes, hoping desperately that he’d kept them too. He had.
Alden, J.: Classics of English Literature
The take-home exam was administered as per Department protocol. All students logged in, and an IP address was taken. Partway through the exam, Jude’s computer timed out and his login disappeared. When his login reappeared, computer records show that he went back, changing several of the answers he’d already submitted. His final grade was 99%. Seeing this, I assumed cheating, and requested the Disciplinary Committee remove him from the course.
An investigation, via the Tech Department, couldn’t prove or disprove the claim. On advice of Dean Fournier, an alternate, hand-written exam, provided by Professor Wheatley, was administered. The average of the two marks were submitted.
Online exam: 99%
Written exam: 63%
Mean exam mark: 81%
Callum smiled, the scab on his lower lip tearing open, filling his mouth with the tang of blood. He reached out for his phone, hitting number four on speed-dial. There was a click, and a woman’s voice appeared.
“You’ve reached the Tech Department, Lissa Amos speaking.”
: : : : : : : : : :
Elliot lifted the bar above his chest, forcing his elbows not to lock.
“You got an exit strategy?” he said as he lowered the free weight down.
At his side stood Jude, grey-faced and weary. Too distracted to lift, he was spotting today.
“I’m gonna be fine,” Jude mumbled. “I can handle this, Elliot. Don’t worry.”
Elliot pushed the barbell up, arms burning.
“Handle it like you did in high school?”
Jude muttered something under his breath, crossing his arms in defiance.
Elliot blew out his breath in a hiss, slowly lowering the weight to his chest, and waiting for the burn to ease. He could remember the day the principal had shown up at the door of the auditorium to pull Jude from the assembly. The entire group of seniors, dressed in their private school blazers and ties, had watched Jude being led up the stairs to the back where a police officer and Elizabeth Alden, Jude’s mother, stood waiting. Just before he’d stepped out of the doors, Jude had turned back, flashing the middle finger with a nonchalant grin. The room had erupted in applause.
“This is nothing like what happened in high school,” Jude grumbled. “What I’m doing right now isn’t actually illegal.”
“Hacking is illegal,” Elliot replied. “And that’s exactly what you’re doing.” He tightened his grip on the bar, tensing his arms. “One more rep,” he panted. “Then I’m done.”
“I’m keeping logs of everything,” Jude said. “It’s a legitimate request, Elliot. It is! I’m just testing the guy’s security systems.”
“The security systems of a known criminal,” Elliot grunted, slamming the barbell up onto the Y-supports. He lay on his back, glaring up. “You've got to get out of this, Jude. Cut your ties and do it fast, for Chrissakes!”
Jude’s lips pursed, forehead wrinkling as if about to cry. He looked young all of a sudden.
“I can’t do that,” he whispered. “I just need to do this one last job. Then I’m done. Promise.”
Elliot sat up, massaging his arms.
“Why?” he insisted. “Why this last one? You just said you had second thoughts. That should be enough.”
Jude shook his head, staring out into the busy gym.
“I… I can’t, okay?” he said. “Besides, this is good money. One last job and then I’ve got my Get-out-of-Dodge plan. I’d have enough to start a business. Start programming on my own.” He turned back, eyes wide and earnest. “I could do it, Elliot. I know I could.”
“This isn’t the way.”
“Being an entrepreneur is totally the American way,” Jude smirked. “Make your own luck.”
It was that statement – the insouciance of it – which finally lit the fire under Elliot’s temper. He surged to his feet, worry blossoming into rage.
“Listen to yourself!” he snapped. “What would your Dad say to that?”
“You leave my father out of this.”
Elliot shook his head, face grim.
“That’s it! Get out of my apartment.”
Jude stumbled backwards, anger shifting into surprise.
“What?”
&nbs
p; “I said get out!” Elliot repeated. “Move! I’m done!”
Jude’s eyes widened.
“But… how can you do this?”
“Easy. I just did!”
Jude stared, open-mouthed.
“But you’re my oldest friend.”
Elliot turned, walking away even as he answered.
“We used to be friends,” he growled. “We’re not anymore.”
: : : : : : : : : :
Indigo didn’t see Jude for a week. She half expected him to appear on the weekend, but Saturday and Sunday came and went without a word from him. The next week was busy with school projects. Each day at break, Indigo was certain he was going to show up with coffee and a story of what had kept him away. He didn’t do that either. By Wednesday, his absence had grown into an irritation that wouldn’t leave her mind. It bothered her, but she wouldn’t allow herself to call him. Indigo always held the cards. That was her deal, no matter what. She didn’t wait for guys to call.
Except with Jude, she couldn’t help it.
Late Thursday, she lay in bed, tossing and turning. Cal’s kiss in the hallway kept playing over and over in her mind. She knew she shouldn’t get involved with him again, but it didn’t change her feelings. She and Cal had a connection. A fucked-up one, but connection nonetheless. She frowned.
Right now that was more than she had with Jude.
The cell phone on the table buzzed, and she glanced down, half expecting the text message to be from Cal. It was from Jude instead.
You still awake?
Indigo smiled, typing in an answer.
Barely. It’s late.
She waited.
Want to grab coffee tomorrow? I miss you.
She tapped a reply, still smiling.
Maybe… She hit send, then added another text. That’s ALWAYS my answer.
Jude’s response was nearly as quick.
MAYBE???
Indigo giggled.
A girl’s gotta keep her options open.
She waited, gnawing on the side of her thumbnail. She believed that, but it was weird to put it into words. Her smile melted until only a hint of it remained. ‘Maybe that’s half my prob—”
Another text appeared.
Then I’m coming over NOW, before you change your mind. Grab your coat, and maybe some clothes. There was a pause. Scratch that. No coat or clothes. I’ll bring coffee to YOU!
Indigo smothered a giggle in her pillow.
DO NOT COME BY. Shireese would FREAK. Besides, I have class tomorrow. Go to sleep.
His reply popped up a second later.
Can’t sleep.
She grinned.
SLEEP.
She hit send, wondering why she felt like a teenager where Jude was concerned.
I tried, but I really can’t. I miss you.
There was a short pause, and another message from Jude appeared.
Couldn’t sleep last night either.
Indigo frowned, her quick retort disappearing under a wave of concern.
Why?
A text popped up.
Had a shitty week. Wish you’d been around. Should have called. Sorry. :(
Indigo frowned.
You okay?
The answers appeared in rapid sequence.
Yes.
No.
Just miss you.
Promise me coffee and then I’ll stop bugging you.
Indigo sighed. She’d had a crappy week too, but that was because Jude hadn’t called. She could hardly say that.
Fine. Coffee at break, but only because you’re paying for it.
A series of emoticons – smiley faces and hearts – filled her screen and Indigo began to laugh aloud. In the other room, she heard Shireese roll over, the bed banging against too-thin walls.
Indigo typed a response: You’re such a nerd. Then she sat smiling in the darkness.
Might be, but I’m YOUR nerd.
Indigo’s grin grew softer, more poignant. It was stupid to let this continue. Shireese was right, he’d find out eventually, but she didn’t know how to tell him the truth. The seconds ticked by as she mulled that thought over. Another text appeared.
Night, Indigo. I’m holding you to coffee tomorrow.
She sighed.
Maybe.
Tomorrow would be soon enough.
Chapter 9: Opening the Vault
Talking to Indigo – even if it was just texting – was the highlight of an otherwise horrid week. Besides his day job, innumerable other things were pressing for Jude’s attention. The first priority had been a new apartment, a harder task than he’d expected. Mid-semester, all the rentals around campus were full. In the end, Jude reluctantly agreed to move into Marq’s condo. He wasn’t done being angry with him, but with no place to go, he was out of options. The rest of his time was eaten up by work and hacking. Jude started out tentatively, poking at the security systems that King had set up for his business dealings. On Tuesday he received an anonymous email.
You haven’t even broken through the first layer of security. Try harder.
The sender was a spam address, and his email bounced back the second Jude replied. The experience left him panicked. Suddenly he was the one being checked up on. He found himself glancing over his shoulder in public, certain that there were people watching. Twice, he caught sight of a black sedan with tinted windows, parked on the street below Marq’s condo.
He redoubled his efforts.
On Thursday, he finally broke through the firewall’s outer defenses, peeling back the first of many layers, locating several unregistered businesses that were associated through purchases and invoicing with King’s fronted companies. He wasn’t surprised when the next email arrived.
I’m impressed. Keep going.
This would be the last job, Jude told himself. The last thing he’d ever do for Tyrone “King” Fischer. But he had to finish it before he could get out. Most of the time, Jude even believed that.
On Friday, Jude met Indigo for coffee. Seeing her after so long, his mind began to fixate on a way to spend time together. She was part of a life that was, so far, out of his reach.
“You need to relax more,” Indigo teased him, as they sat on the high stools at the Student Union coffee shop. “Get out and have some fun instead of working all the time.”
“I do relax,” Jude sighed. “Just not this week.”
Today Indigo was the relaxed version of herself, tight jeans, tee and leather jacket exuding an attitude of indifference. If he didn’t already know her, he’d never have the nerve to walk up and say hello. As it was, he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes and tucking it behind her ear. She closed her eyes as he touched her, sooty lashes a dark wing across the snow of her cheek.
“I’m gonna take some time off this weekend,” he added.
“Uh-huh,” she smirked. “That’s what they all say.”
“It’s true,” Jude insisted. “Marq and the tech crew are getting together on Saturday.” He leaned in, voice low. “Thought maybe you’d like to come out with us. It’s a nice club uptown. My treat.”
Indigo shrugged.
“Well,” she murmured. “I guess I could think about it.” She peeked at him through a fringe of long hair. “Maybe.”
“Maybe,” Jude laughed. “Yeah, I know, I know.”
“If I did come along,” she added. “What kind of clothes should I wear?”
Jude grinned, sliding closer so that one arm was slung loosely around her waist.
“Oh, something nice,” he replied with a wolfish grin. “The dress code’s suit and tie for men.” Jude’s fingers danced along the edge of Indigo’s jeans, teasing the bare line of skin between pants and t-shirt. “That dress you wore on Friday would work.”
“Business casual,” she smirked. “Got it. But that’s only if I go.”
“Sounds like we’ve got another date.”
Indigo giggled, a blush rising up her neck to her cheeks. She picked up her pho
ne, then gasped.
“Shit!” she hissed. “I’m late for class!”
“Your project coming along okay?” Jude asked, leaving the coffee on the counter and following Indigo as she strode back to the computer lab.
“It’s okay, but I still haven’t got any footage,” she said tersely. Reaching the door to the lab, she stopped, eyebrows pulled together worriedly. “Were you serious about helping me with it?” she asked. “‘Cause I’ve got to finish.”
Jude smiled. For the first time this week, it felt like everything might work out.
“Absolutely.”
: : : : : : : : : :
Lissa reviewed the last of the files. Barring one questionable not-safe-for-work email he’d archived, Jude Alden was clean. No porn. No illegal activities. No inappropriate correspondence with underage freshman. And definitely no research into nineteenth century documents. His entire university account was, in fact, totally bare.
She picked up the phone, dialling.
“Cal Woodrow here,” came a cultured voice.
“Professor Woodrow,” Lissa answered. “I checked on the tech you asked about, but I don’t see anything to suggest he’d been snooping into your files.” She paused. “You sure it wasn’t someone else who helped you recover the project you lost?”
“Hmm,” Cal muttered. “Could have been, I suppose. It was last semester after all.”
“D’you want me to ask Jude about it?” Lissa offered. “He’s in today. I could ask him if he remembers which tech helped you with your files.”
“Oh no, no,” Cal said hastily. “Don’t ask. I wouldn’t want to bother him.” He cleared his throat. “Thank you for checking in on Jude,” he said. “I’ll call you again if I can remember who it was.”
“D’you need some help recovering the missing files?” she offered. “I could send someone down.” She smirked. “Sometimes people save things in the wrong place by accident. Happens all the time.”
“Don’t bother,” Cal said a little too fast. “I’m just fine. I’m certain I have a spare copy of the data around here somewhere.”
“You sure?” Lissa asked, “because it’s no prob—”
“Thanks again, Lissa! Must run now. Goodbye!”
The phone clicked and went dead, leaving Lissa staring at it in confusion. Sometimes, she thought in frustration, this job wasn’t worth the little it paid.