The Hacker

by Leslie Georgeson

  “This is hard,” I grumbled. “It’s no wonder my mother preferred to hire a fancy chef.”

  Noah chuckled. “Cooking’s not for everyone. But I enjoy it.”

  Several minutes later, we sat down at the table to eat. Honestly, it was one of the best meals I’d ever had. I was amazed how much I enjoyed spending time with Noah like this, doing normal, everyday things.

  “This is absolutely delicious,” I complimented. “I don’t think my mother’s professional chef could have prepared anything better than this.”

  He smiled across the table at me. “Thanks.”

  We ate in silence for several moments. “I need to ask you something,” he said quietly. “Did you ever have any obsessive fans or stalkers or people who threatened you or made you uncomfortable?”

  That was out of the blue. An uneasiness crept over me. “Why?”

  “Because I received a disturbing email that makes me think you have an obsessive stalker. This person knows I bought you at the auction, and he’s threatened to come after you. He was apparently an auction participant that I outbid. He seems to think you belong to him.”

  I cleared my throat, wondering if I should tell him about the texts and emails I’d begun receiving after my father’s death. “I have been receiving texts and emails recently. They started after my father’s death.”

  Noah’s gaze sharpened. “What kind of messages did he send you?”

  “Just creeper stuff. I want you. You’re so beautiful. That type of stuff. I deleted them.”

  “You didn’t take them seriously?” he demanded, his eyebrows shooting up.

  “No. I get fan mail all the time. I didn’t feel threatened, not really.”

  Noah eyed me sternly. “Well, you should. He could be dangerous. He’s obviously escalating if he attended the auction and attempted to buy you. Shit, Shannon, if I hadn’t been there, he might have bought you. He could be hurting you right now. I’m going to try to lure the guy out so we can deal with him. I don’t know who he is or how dangerous he might be. But if he’s obsessed with you, then we need to get rid of him before he hurts you.”

  I contemplated that for a long moment. Did I really have an obsessive fan? Someone who thought he owned me? A shiver crept down my spine. I had never been so glad that Noah had purchased me until that moment. If he hadn’t, I could be with this obsessive stalker right now.

  I cleared my throat. “So how did you find out about the auction? How did you know I would be a part of it?”

  He took a swig of water, then set his glass aside. “Taking down cyber criminals is something I do in my spare time. I knew the Flesh King had to be acquiring his auction participants online somehow. So I investigated until I found his site hidden in the deepest, darkest parts of the web.”

  “You make it sound so dangerous.” I grinned. “Deepest, darkest parts…”

  His lips twitched. “It is dangerous, if you get caught. But I don’t get caught. What I mean by ‘deepest, darkest parts’ is that I had to do some serious digging to find the webpage. It’s not readily visible to your average online browser.”

  That made sense. “And then you signed up somehow so you could buy me?”

  “Yes.”

  I contemplated that for a moment. Noah was extremely intelligent. He really had gone to a lot of trouble to find me, and then save me. Hell, he’d spent a quarter of a million dollars of his own money to ensure I was safe.

  “I’ll pay you back,” I promised. “I can transfer the funds to your account.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not necessary. I have plenty more.”

  Seriously? He didn’t want his money back?

  “From my standpoint, it is necessary. I won’t be indebted to you.”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. If it makes you feel better, you can pay me back.”

  We ate for several more moments in silence. He really took down cyber criminals? That was…fascinating.

  “How, exactly, do you take down cyber criminals?”

  He set his fork aside again. “Once I locate an illegal site, I send the information to one of my contacts at the FBI.”

  He worked for the FBI? “What are you, some type of informant?”

  “Indirectly, I suppose. They don’t know my true identity. But they’re not opposed to accepting the information I supply them with, because it helps take down cyber criminals.”

  I’d told Noah I wouldn’t write a story about him, but the more I knew about him, the more intrigued I became. How could I not write his story? He was so fascinating. I had a strong, overwhelming urge to learn everything about him. “And do you get paid for the information?”

  “No.”

  I lifted a brow. “You just do it for free?”

  “I receive no financial compensation, but I wouldn’t say it’s for free. My payment is the satisfaction of taking down another criminal, ridding the world of another bastard like your father.”

  I recoiled. Though I now accepted the truth about my father, it still hurt.

  A moment of silence passed. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “That was insensitive. I will try to be more considerate of your feelings whenever we talk about your father from now on.”

  I was more than a little stunned by his apology. “Thank you.” I paused, staring across the table at him as he tore off another chunk of thigh meat and chewed. “You’re not who I thought you were,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.

  “And you’re not who I originally thought you were,” he conceded quietly.

  Our gazes locked. “We make a good pair,” I whispered. “You and I. We work well together.”

  Color crept into his face. “Yeah, we do.” He cleared his throat. “You said your stalker sent you texts and that you deleted them. Did he contact you in any other way?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  He sighed. “I was hoping he’d sent you an email that I could trace, but if you deleted the texts, then I have no way to try to track him down. Can you think really hard about all your past acquaintances and any possible obsessive fans? If you can remember something helpful, then we will have more information that might lead to this guy who seems to think you’re his. I’m more than a little concerned about what he might do if he gets a hold of you.”

  I shivered. “You’ll protect me. Right?”

  His gaze turned serious. “As long as you’re with me, yeah, I’ll protect you.”

  “Then I’ll stay with you until he’s caught. Until we figure out who he is and what he wants.”

  “Even if I decide to leave for Idaho tonight? You’ll go with me?” He sounded skeptical. “Even knowing I killed your father?”

  Was he trying to dissuade me? Was he having second thoughts about letting me help? It was obvious he still didn’t trust me completely, as if he still feared I would write a story about him. But I would never do that to him. And I couldn’t deny I now trusted him one hundred percent. How could I not trust him after what he’d done for me? And after all the information he was letting me see. It was apparent he did trust me at least to some extent or he wouldn’t be allowing me access to those files.

  Though I’d never headed across country with a near stranger before, I had no hesitation about going with Noah. I did want to tell this story about the shareholders. I did want the truth. But mostly, I wanted to know more about Noah, and that was why I didn’t want to leave yet. I was starting to care about him. The man who’d murdered my father. Crazy, right? I was losing sight of the goal, getting distracted by a man who fascinated me.

  I lifted my gaze back to his. “Yes. I’ll leave with you right now if you want.”

  “Huh.” He stared at me. “You sure about that?”

  “Positive.”

  His gaze bored into mine. “Why?”

  I decided to be truthful, because that was what I did, after all—report the truth.

  “Because I want to know the truth about everything, my father, the shareholders, the dregs. But mos
tly, because I want to learn more about you.”

  We stared at each other for a long moment. Then he gathered up his plate and shoved his chair back, his face turning red. He rose from the table and headed for the sink. I followed quickly with my own plate, and we put everything away in silence, then loaded the dishwasher together.

  “I’m going to try to decrypt another file,” he announced, then strode from the room.

  I sighed as I watched him leave. I wish I knew what he was thinking. Was he upset with me? Did he think I was lying? Had I made him uncomfortable? What?

  Deciding to give him some space, I went upstairs and took a shower. I changed into some of the prior tenant’s clothes. Skinny jeans and a royal blue sweater. Then I snagged a spiral notebook from the girl’s closet and sat at the small desk and began to take notes on what I’d learned so far about Noah, my father, The Company, and Super Soldiers, LLC.

  Time slowly ticked by as I filled the pages with my notes. My thoughts. My scribbles.

  My eyelids began to droop. With a full belly and a shower, I was now ready for a nap. Later, I would go back downstairs and help Noah with the investigation.

  I set the notebook on the desk and climbed back in bed.

  Moments later, I drifted off, my mind filled with Noah.

  A sexy warrior who completely fascinated me.

  The man who’d killed my father.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Noah

  It took me a little over an hour, but I finally managed to decrypt another file. This document contained a list of various animal DNA samples and the possible side effects if injected into the recruits. It wasn’t helpful as far as connecting it to the shareholders, but it was still more evidence that could be used to help take them down.

  I’d had enough for one day. I needed to work out now. Daily exercise was as important to me as breathing, having been installed in my routine since my recruitment with The Company. It wasn’t something I could just change. Exercise helped purge the body of impurities, helped rid me of stress. And I liked working out.

  I headed upstairs to change into workout clothes, passing Shannon’s room along the way to mine. She was lying in bed, sound asleep. I paused, then stepped into the room. She’d showered and changed into a blue sweater and jeans. Her clean feminine scent floated over me, teasing me, making me want. I don’t know what it was about her, but she just got to me and I couldn’t seem to get her out of my head. If she had any idea how much I wanted her, how difficult it had been for me to push her away last night…

  I pulled a blanket over her, gently tucking it beneath her chin. She’d said we worked well together. We made a good team. Partners. She was right. I wanted to be her partner in other ways. In all ways.

  Dream on, buddy.

  I turned away, my gaze landing on the notebook on top of the desk. I paused, then lifted the notebook, skimming over her notes.

  The Hacker.

  Tall. Muscular. A hot body. Very handsome. Striking eyes.

  Intimidating. A little frightening.

  A killer.

  I shouldn’t want him, but I do. He murdered my father. But when he kisses me, I melt into a puddle of need. His touch is like magic. I want more. And more. He makes me feel alive for the first time in my life.

  He’s letting me help with the investigation into the shareholders. I never expected that. I trust him now, even though a part of me wonders if he is being truthful with me. If he is keeping secrets.

  Who is The Hacker deep inside? I’ve seen the outside. The handsome face. The hot body. But who is he underneath?

  My heart thundered as I glanced up from the page, focusing on Shannon in the bed. She was still asleep. So I read on.

  Kidnapped as a child, he was taken prisoner and subjected to horrendous experiments, injections, abuse…

  He is Recruit 89. He survived the unthinkable. He is a harsh man. A brave man. An incredibly strong man. And underneath the tough exterior lies a kindness I didn’t expect. He risked his life to save me. And now he is keeping me safe.

  His torso is covered in battle scars, but the scars don’t detract from his male beauty.

  He fascinates me. I want to know everything about him. I want to break through his walls and see who he is beneath it all.

  His story is more like fiction. Science fiction. Most of it too unbelievable. But it’s real. He’s real.

  And I want to write a story about him.

  I drew in a sharp breath. She was planning to do a story on me? Hurt crashed over me. I had let myself trust in her, believe in her. Then anger swept in, crushing me in its grip. She’d lied. I shouldn’t have trusted her. I shouldn’t have shown her my file or any of The Company information. I should have known better. She was a reporter, for Christ’s sake. A story was probably all she would ever want from me. If I’d ever needed a reason to distrust her, I’d just found it.

  Fool!

  I ripped the page out of the notebook, smashing it in my hand, trying to smash the pain of her betrayal along with it.

  “I wasn’t going to write about you.” Her soft voice came from the bed, drawing my gaze. She slowly sat up, eyeing me warily. “Those are just my notes about you. My own thoughts and observations.” Her face turned pink. “They’re kind of personal. Can I have that back, please?”

  I snorted. “Have it back? No.” I walked out.

  Shannon barreled after me, grabbing my arm. “If you read those notes, then you know how I feel about you.”

  I spun around, glaring at her. “Yeah, I know you want to write a story about me, even though you promised not to.”

  She shook her head. “Not that part, you jerk. I would never write about you without your permission first.”

  Then what part was she referring to?

  He fascinates me. I want to know everything about him. I want to break through his walls and see who he is underneath.

  My heart thumped crazily. I shook the crumpled paper at her, refusing—scared—to acknowledge anything accept her last sentence. I want to write a story about him.

  “Liar.”

  She lunged for the paper. “Give that back. It’s mine.”

  “If they’re just your notes, your thoughts and observations, then they’re already in your head. You don’t need them.”

  Her lip twisted in a snarl. “Don’t be an ass! What do you want from me? My complete humiliation? What did I ever do to you?”

  I shouldn’t want him, but I do.

  His touch is like magic. I want more. And more. He makes me feel alive for the first time in my life.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out those words, but they were even more visible behind closed lids.

  He fascinates me. I want to know everything about him.

  Goddammit! I couldn’t let myself believe those words. I couldn’t allow myself to hope for the impossible. She was a damn reporter! A storyteller. How could I know if she was being real? How did I know if I could truly trust her?

  I jerked my eyes open, glowering at her. “Don’t write about me!” I threw the crumpled paper at her, then strode from the room.

  Marching down the hallway to my own room, I slammed the door. I quickly changed into workout clothes. Then I began a fierce workout of sit-ups, push-ups, crunches, squats, lunges…

  Thirty minutes passed while I pushed through an intense work out.

  Then forty.

  Fifty.

  I yanked open the door and ran down the stairs, then back up, down, then up, craving the burn in my thighs and calves, the pressure in my lungs.

  Shannon came out of her bedroom to gape at me, but I ignored her and kept running. Up the stairs, then down. Up the stairs, then down…

  Again and again and again.

  Up the stairs, then down…

  She went back into her room and closed the door. Good. It was easier to work out without her staring at me.

  A few minutes later, her door opened and she emerged, wearing a pair of short short
s and a white tank top.

  I stumbled on the step and nearly went down. What the hell was she wearing?

  She stretched, wiggling that firm ass in the air—deliberately?—then jogged toward the stairs. Toward me.

  Shit.

  I turned away as she reached me, trying to ignore her as she fell into step beside me.

  “I like to run,” she announced.

  And run, we did. Me: trying to ignore her, trying to get away from her, though there wasn’t anywhere to flee along the staircase. She: doing her best to keep up with me and not fall behind.

  I had to give it to her. She was certainly determined. She kept up with me for the most part, only lagging behind as we reached the top each time and turned to go back down.

  I honestly don’t know what I was running from. Her notes? Her feelings? Her damn story? The fear that she might be using me? Or just her in general?

  He fascinates me. I want to know everything about him.

  Damn her. She fascinated me, too. She had since the very beginning. She was definitely the main reason I hadn’t left Georgia yet. God knew I wanted her. But if I touched her again? I would be lost.

  Admit it, man. You’re scared that she’s only using you.

  I didn’t like being vulnerable. But Shannon made me weak. If I wasn’t careful, she could break down my defenses. She could break me. Trust didn’t come easily to me. If I trusted her and she betrayed me, it would definitely mess me up.

  She huffed and puffed beside me. “How long are we going to keep this up? I’m not an endurance runner.”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t look at her. She was too sexy in those short shorts and that tank top. If I looked at her, I would only want to get my hands on that hot little body even more that I already did.

  Do not look at her. Do not engage.

  I kept running. And she jogged beside me, trying her best to keep up with me.

  Up the stairs, and down…

  Up the stairs, and down…

  “Noah!” She jumped in front of me as we reached the top again, catching me off guard. I stumbled into her as I was spinning on my heel and turning to go back down. Losing my balance on the top stair, I tripped, instinctively reaching for her, catching her against me as I fell backward.