CHAPTER 5
DREW
12 months later
The chair I sat on was balancing precariously on its two back legs, my booted feet propped up on the table in front of me, Parker’s latest edition of Blades and Babes in my hands as I read with rapt attention about a new carbon fiber nine-inch knife. I was pretty sure I was going to buy it. Cash had never really been a problem for me. I hated shopping, I didn’t spend frivolously, and I wore clothes until they literally fell apart. My first real purchase of substance had been a ranch style house on the outskirts of Claymont, along with my dark grey Jeep and an investment property over by the college. I wanted for little, and instead of spending what I had on material objects that didn’t mean anything to me, I invested in things that mattered, like Mercy’s Shelter for Abused Women. I volunteered my time at the shelter when I could, and I made regular donations.
Thinking about the shelter and its inhabitants made me think of Lola, and a fierce ache throbbed in my chest. I felt like I’d let her down somehow, even though we didn’t even have a relationship, not even a friendship. Our conversations had been limited to two: one at the hospital after her attack, and the second right before she left the air strip Montgomery Securities used for their private jet, but every word from those conversations stayed with me. I’ll miss you. Those words dug into my dark heart and buried themselves there. Nobody had ever told me they were going to miss me. Her downtrodden expression as she whispered those words had stayed with me. We barely knew each other beyond our names, and hers wasn’t even real, and yet she was going to miss me. She had been a damaged doll who cast me a look that echoed such deep sadness as she stepped onto a jet that whisked her away to safety. I didn’t even know where Dillon and Braiden had sent her; all I knew was that she was safe. The woman had me tied up in knots long before her attack. Her delicate features, gentle smiles, and social oddities made her endearing to me. She was unlike any woman I had ever met, and her quiet nature called to me on some level, calmed me even. Talking to women had never been an issue before meeting Lola, but like a fool, I became tongue-tied every time we were together. I didn’t know how to explain my odd reaction to the woman, having never engaged in more than one night stands and the occasional friends with benefits set up; relationships puzzled me. Perhaps the thought of Lola as something more than a quick indulgence sent me into a state of perpetual fear. Fear of the unknown and the fear of fucking up a good thing.
“You do realize people eat off that table?” Parker murmured as he strolled into the kitchen of Montgomery Security.
Glancing over the magazine, I took in Parker. He looked like a runway model ready for a night on the town, not a freaking security employee with an affinity for cracking locks and safes.
“My boots are likely cleaner than the table,” I replied. It was true, my boots were so clean you could see your reflection in them. It was hard to break habits practically beaten into you by your father and then the military.
Parker snorted. “Don’t let Alice hear you say that.”
“Say what?” said woman asked as she stepped into the room.
My feet hit the floor, and I gifted Alice with a sheepish smile, hoping she hadn’t noticed my lack of manners. She looked more like Alice from the Brady Bunch than the woman who kept this intricate, booming security company operating like a well-oiled machine. Between her organizational skills and Dillon’s business smarts, relaxing in the office like this was a rare luxury now days. As it was, Parker and I were the only active field operatives currently home. Even Braiden, who rarely left his woman’s side, had been working overseas for almost two weeks now.
“You’re going to tip back in that chair one of these days and really hurt yourself, Drew King,” Alice reprimanded.
“Sorry, Alice,” I said sheepishly.
“Not to mention the criminal hygiene of having your feet on the table,” Parker added with a smirk.
“Nobody likes a snitch, Parker Evans,” Alice added
I ran my hand over my mouth to hide my smile while Parker flipped me off from behind Alice’s back.
“Hey, anyone know where Dillon is?” Sam asked from the doorway.
Sam was the company’s resident tech guru and the epitome of an IT geek. He had a chaotic nest of bedhead, thick-rimmed glasses that seemed to always sit crooked on his nose, and a pasty-white complexion that suggested he rarely saw the sun. The only thing that set him apart from my own biased view on how a computer nerd should look was the lean but well-built body he hid beneath wrinkled work shirts and the same cargos field operatives wore. He was also pretty fucking good with a gun, and I had no idea how that came about; maybe it was from the long hours he spent on those gaming sites.
Sam stared at us while we stared right back at him, and the wildness in his eyes caught me by surprise.
“He’s grabbing lunch. I offered to go, but he wanted to see Annie,” Alice said with a knowing smile.
“Let’s hope they lock the store room door this time,” Parker muttered, and Alice slapped his shoulder.
“Have a little decorum, Parker,” she chastised.
“Hey, I’m not the one getting down and dirty in the workplace,” Parker argued with his hands raised.
“Shit,” Sam murmured, his hands clutching his wild hair as he completely ignored everyone.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
Sam’s startled appearance had my gut churning, and I always listened to my gut. It had gotten me out of a few situations that should have ended in death . . . namely mine.
“We’ve got a security breach.”
Parker’s smug smile disappeared along with the twinkle in Alice’s eyes. I rose to my feet, my gun a familiar and soothing weight in my shoulder holster.
“Where?” I asked, my gaze moving over Sam’s shoulder and into the hallway, searching for signs of an enemy.
“I don’t know how they did it. The system should be impenetrable, and I’m the best at what I do. My software not only detects infiltration, but it should trace the attacker. It didn’t do either.”
“Sam, we have no idea what you’re talking about, buddy,” Parker said.
“We’ve been fucking hacked,” he spat out. “I’ve been hacked. I’ve never been hacked.”
The panic in Sam’s eyes got me moving. Computers were a fucking enigma to me, I needed an enemy I could see and feel, but with Dillon out of the office someone needed to take charge.
“Alice, call Dillon,” I called out as I followed Sam to his computer cave in the back of the office.
“Already on it,” she called back.
“Are they still in the system?” I asked, assuming if someone hacked our computer they were likely still there.
Sam gave me an appalled looked. “Of course not!”
“Okay, that’s good,” I murmured, running a hand over my head and down to clench the back of my neck.
“Dillon wants to know what files they got into,” Parker asked from the doorway, a cordless phone pressed between his shoulder and ear.
“Working on it,” Sam rattled off, clicking away at the keys on his keyboard. “Ahhhh, the employee files are safe, and the client data appears untouched . . . mostly.”
“What does ‘mostly’ mean?” I growled.
“One file was infiltrated . . . Fuck!” Sam’s spat out profanity saw the tension in my shoulders increase tenfold. He held out his hand, his eyes never leaving the computer screen as he signaled a ‘give me’ sign to Parker. The phone was placed in his outstretched hand. “Shit, boss, they were looking at the Bowman file.”
I could hear Dillon’s curses through the cordless.
Sam shook his head. “They weren’t in there long before my system began fighting back. It did what it was supposed to do, but they got a few minutes of sightseeing before they were forced out.”
The quick, nervous glance Sam shot me before nodding and moving his attention back to the computer before him had the hair on the back of my neck prickling. The worry in Sam’s features made me want to hit something.
“He’s here.” Another awkward look in my direction. “Okay, boss, see you in five.” Sam hung up the phone. “Dillon’s in the parking garage. He’ll be up in a minute.”
“What’s going on, Sam? What’s the Bowman file?” I asked.
Sam shook his head. “Boss will explain.”
“Fuck, Sam, I’m not a patient man, and the fact that your pasty-white skin is even whiter tells me it’s something important.”
“Yeah, it’s important,” he nodded in agreement, running a hand down his ashen face. “There are only a couple of people in the world who could hack me: one wouldn’t dare, and the other . . . she’s . . . complicated.”
What the fuck did that mean?
“Complicated how? A woman?”
“Aren’t all women complicated,” he grumbled. “We met at a conference once, and she got the impression I did something pretty fucking huge and pretty fucking ugly, but I didn’t. She didn’t listen, though. She thinks I’m some lowlife shithead and has a personal vendetta against me. She’s good, and she likes a challenge. I’m a challenge. Hacking my system would be the equivalent of Parker adding another notch to his bed post.”
“Are you implying I’m a man whore?” Parker asked.
“She’s a white hat, though.”
“A what?” I interrupted.
“A white hat, a hacker that fights to improve security, she fights for the little man, even does pro bono work if she thinks the case is worthy,” Sam rattled on, ignoring Parker.
“Then what is she doing in our client files? Doesn’t she realize she could be endangering innocent people?” I growled.
“Maybe someone fed her a line of bullshit. Obsessive people with single-minded objectives often don’t look at the larger playing field; they miss things . . . important things. She’s good with computers, not people. Someone might have misled her into breaking into our files. Fuck, she thinks I played a part in a human trafficking ring, which I did-fucking-not, but maybe she feels she’s saving someone from us or some bullshit. Hell, she may have no idea what she’s done. She’s probably busy celebrating hacking me. Fuck, she hacked me!”
Dillon’s heavy boots echoed down the hallway, and we all turned to take him in as he stormed into the room. A fierce look of anger and worry radiated from him, and that churning, sinking feeling in my gut sunk even lower.
“Whose files were leaked?” I asked.
“Lindy Bowman,” Dillon said, and I shrugged, the name not ringing any bells. “Aka Lola Weston, aka Lily—”
“Crane,” I finished for him, as my world came tumbling down. “Tell me they don’t know where you stashed her.”
Dillon bent over Sam’s shoulder and watched as he continued to click away on that damn fucking keyboard.
“It’s a possibility.” Dillon straightened and pinned me with a hard stare. “We hid the information in these files, but it’s there. If whoever was looking knew what to look for, they might have found it. We can’t take the chance that they didn’t. Gear-up, we need to move her.”
While panic threatened to consume me, being put on a mission also gave me direction. It wasn’t my first retrieval mission. I knew my job and I did it well.
“When do we leave?” Parker asked.
“Drew leaves immediately. Parker, I need you in Turkey with Braiden.” Dillon ran a hand through his hair, frustration clearly evident in his taught features. “Drew can handle Lola’s situation on his own.”
“Where is she?” I asked.
“She’s in Chiang Mai, Thailand.”
“Ahhh shit, Thailand? Drew gets the tropics, and I get cranky pants Brai in Turkey? That kills,” Parker said sulkily.
Dillon scribbled down something on a piece of paper and handed it to me. The name ‘General Norman Gillies’ and an address were scrawled on it. “I’ll give Norm a head’s up and let him know you’re en route. He’s a good man. Jaxon and I served under him for two tours in Afghanistan. He and his wife were kind enough to give Lola a room and a job. She works as a housekeeper in a small boutique guesthouse they own. Head home to pack and be at the air-strip in two hours.”
I moved towards the door, operating on auto-pilot, my heart beating a desperate plea to get to Lola, like, yesterday, my brain telling me to keep calm and be smart. Slow down and move efficiently. Panic got people killed.
“And, Drew?” Dillon’s commanding voice stopped me in my tracks.
I glanced over my shoulder.
“This is a quick in and out. Try not to make a mess, but Lola’s safety comes first.”
Nodding, I headed to the weapons room to gear-up. My thirst for Ben Crane’s blood had never been sated, and a slow burning anger had turned me into a cranky fucker for the past twelve months. My girl was out there, and had been for a year without her friends . . . her family. It was time to bring her home.