The Hacker (The Bro Series Book 2) Page 5

  “I thought it was a joke!”

  “And now you see it wasn’t.”

  Hatred in his eyes begins to increase.

  “You can stand there and continue to stare at me if you want, but it’s your time you’re wasting. When it’s time to leave, it’s time to leave.”

  Lynk’s irritation explodes and he stomps back up the stairs without another word.

  Before Holden can jump down my throat, I explain my decision. “He needs this, Holden. He needs to learn to be responsible for himself. He needs to learn an amount of independence as does Sage. It’s healthy.”

  Annoyance flashes in his expression. “Are you telling me I coddle my children?”

  “I’m telling you, I’ve been observing this family for two days, and can already see how tightly wound around their fingers you are.”

  He growls again, but this one obviously isn’t sexual.

  “You hired me to do a job-”

  “To help me take care of my children-”

  “Then let me do what it is you hired me for,” I counter with force. “Let me do more than look good in tiny shorts and tight jeans.”

  My playful remark briefly washes away the scowl.

  He can’t argue with that. He’s been staring at my ass every chance he’s had.

  “I’m ready!” Sage’s mousey four-year-old voice announces half way down the stairs.

  We let our eyes land on the ridiculously dressed child. Her free-spirited nature is apparent by the neon green tights, purple and white polka dotted skirt, and pale yellow t-shirt. A smile graces my lips as I realize, they each had a miniature version of themselves. Looks wise, Sage has Beth’s beautiful blonde hair and porcelain complexion. Her innocent smile but bright nature is a direct reflection of her mother. Beth was the type of woman people couldn’t help but stare at. They couldn’t help, but love. As much as I hated the moment Holden laid eyes on her, I wasn’t surprised he fell head over heels. She was gorgeous. She was giving. She was untainted in ways we weren’t. She radiated richness and I reminded him of a life he wanted to forget.

  “Morning, sunshine,” Holden says warmly. The minute she’s within reach, he swoops her into his arms, and plants a kiss on her cheek.

  “Buenos días, Sage,” I say with an equally friendly tone.

  Her face lights up. “Beynas deeyes!”

  I lightly snicker at her attempt to return the greeting.

  Holden gives me a pointed look. “Were you at least going to wake the four-year-old or is she in the same sink or swim position as my son?”

  The candid comment causes me to glare.

  “Miss Meena said I can get out of bed for school when the clock says the number 6 then 1 and then 5.”

  “And if she wasn’t awake by 6:30, yes, I would’ve went upstairs to wake her up.”

  He doesn’t respond to answer. He simply strolls past the island straight for the dining room area that is wedged in the corner closer to the backdoor and gives his little girl his attention. “You ready for breakfast?”

  Sage nods rapidly, the oversized bow headband in her hair moving around.

  “How about fruit?”

  She shakes her.

  “Not even a banana? They’re really good for you.”

  “Bet you won’t be saying that in ten years,” I quietly mumble yet his stare sends daggers my way before sitting her down in her chair.

  “No,” Sage denies. “I want pancakes.”

  Holden immediately prepares to cave, which is when I interject, “Not this morning, Sage. You may have fruit of your choice and peanut butter toast.”

  The declaration sends her bottom lip outward. “But I want pancakes.”

  “You may have fruit of your choice and peanut butter toast.”

  She frowns at the repetition and looks up to Holden who obviously hates to see his children unhappy.

  I get it. I do. He’s the only parent they have left. He doesn’t want them to hate him because he has to be the ‘bad guy’, but if he keeps this shit up, it won’t matter. He’ll always become the villain anytime he utters the word no.

  I approach the situation without concern of his pending reactions. “Sage, look at Miss Meena.”

  Her blue eyes travel to my brown.

  “You may have fruit of your choice and peanut butter toast. If you don’t like peanut butter you can have plain, buttered, or cream cheese. But fruit and toast are what we are having for breakfast.”

  She nods her understanding. “Peanut butter toast and apples.”

  “Manners,” Holden enforces.

  “Please.”

  “Coming up,” I sweetly reply and make my way towards the fridge while Holden settles down in the chair beside her. We exchange a look that gives me the implication he might actually see my point.

  While I busy myself making breakfast, he spends the time entertaining her. She rambles on about preschool, recalling what they learned last week, and he asks follow up questions, hanging onto her every word. After delivering her food, I offer to finish making his cup of coffee, so he doesn’t have to peel himself away from her. He mindlessly mutters instructions for how he likes it. The lack of focus my direction doesn’t bother me. If anything, I find delight in it. It’s like this situation is the most natural thing in the world, like we’ve spent years waking up to this, like we will spend years continuing too. Just because I know it’s a fallacy doesn’t mean I can’t momentarily appreciate the feeling.

  Lynk comes storming into the kitchen, scowl deeper than before.

  “Morning, Lynk.”

  He rolls his eyes in response.

  The hurt look on Holden’s face tugs at my chest.

  “Peanut butter toast for breakfast,” Sage announces with hand gestures.

  “I don’t want peanut butter toast.”

  “You can have plain toast,” I offer, “or cream cheese, but toast is what’s for breakfast and your choice of fruit. Your sister had manzanas.”

  His green eyes glare up at me. “I speak English.”

  Holden clears his throat. “Don’t be rude, Lynk.”

  “I think it’s rude she didn’t wake me up this morning.”

  Before a fight can erupt, I plaster a smirk on my face. “You may have toast and your choice of fruta. And you may wanna choose quickly, we’re leaving for school in ten minutes. Not much time to eat, brush your teeth, and pack your backpack.”

  Lynk grunts. “I don’t even know where my backpack is.”

  “You might wanna find it,” I say promptly.

  He rolls his eyes again and looks at Holden. “Dad, can I have a granola bar?”

  “Sure.”

  “No,” I immediately correct. “You were given the same choices as your sister. You don’t want them, fine. Don’t eat.”

  Lynk bites, “Then I won’t eat.”

  I shrug my indifference. “That’s your choice. We’re still leaving the house in 9 minutes and thirty seconds. You might wanna go find that backpack.”

  There’s a giant huff out of him as he pushes himself away from the table to storm off.

  Holden exhales a similar sound, which is when I ask, “Are you all done, Sage? We’re leaving for a school in a few minutes and I need you to brush your teeth and get your backpack.”

  She licks the peanut butter off her index finger. “Yeah.”

  “Yes.”

  My revision is instantly repeated. “Yes, Miss Meena. I’m all done.”

  Her father helps pull the chair out for her to rush away.

  The moment she’s up the stairs, he quietly snaps, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  Reaching for Sage’s plate, I snip back, “Being the fucking adult in the house. The thing you should be doing.”

  Holden unexpectedly shoots to his feet backing me against the wall. “You call starving my son being an adult?”

  My face angles at his condescendingly. “Starving? Really? One tantrum to not eat and I’m starving your son?”

&
nbsp; His hardened expression doesn’t falter.

  With a small chuckle of disbelief, I toss the plate onto the counter space beside me, and stand my ground. “Let’s get a few things straight, Holden. These next couple weeks are going to be hell for all of you. Your children, who I know you love and adore, are going to push me. They’re going to test me. They’re going to do everything they can in their power to see what and where the boundaries really are. This is how children work. They’re people who need some sort of rules and regulations and discipline.”

  “That’s not how Beth and I raised them.”

  I try to hide the sadness from hearing their names together like she’s still alive. “Maybe not, but with all due respect, Beth is no longer here to help guide them in that capacity. You want a nanny like that, then find her. In the meantime, you’ve got me. And I know when to allow children freedom of expression and how to correct disrespectful behavior. I’m going to do my job, Holden. The job you hired me to do. The job I am more than qualified for. The job you can search through my emails and texts that I have been praised for doing in a professional capacity over the past seven years.”

  He tightens his lips, but his shoulder slump in defeat.

  Wanting more tension to fade, I salaciously suggest, “You can test me if you want too… Discover other,” I give his tie a gentle tug, “limits.”

  Holden’s cock begins to stir against me. The heat in his eyes flares, yet just like before, he fights against it. He slowly begins his way out of the kitchen. “I emailed the paperwork to Sage’s school adding you to the pickup, drop off approved list. You will need to be fingerprinted, have your photo taken, and fill out your physical paperwork when you drop her off this morning. Lynk rides their private bus afterschool and is enrolled in their program for his age group. For his academy, you will be required a similar procedure. His school typically lets out at three and I have forwarded you their school calendar. You are free to pick them up any time between 3:30 and 5:00. I do expect everyone home for dinner by 5:30 regardless if I’m cooking it or not. My hours are never stable. They’re always changing. I expect you to be at their beck and call when I cannot be. We clear?”

  The coldness in his tone causes the crispness in mine. “Absolutely.”

  He gives his tie an adjustment and exits my direct line of vision.

  This is going to be an adjustment…for everyone. And whether or not he’s willing to admit it, something has to change not just in those kids’ lives, but his.

  “I want a major win by Christmas,” Special Agent Brewster states from beside the projector screen where she’s standing.

  Yeah and I want my nanny sucking my dick every night, but that’s probably not gonna happen. At least mine shouldn’t. Hers would be a great thing for humanity, but what I want is completely selfish.

  And I can’t be that selfish.

  I just can’t.

  “There are three major auction sites we are focusing our task force on at this time.” She hits a button on her remote causing a white logo that contains a large dog hugging a puppy close to it. “The Pow Wow Pound.”

  Pedophile auction site. Its coded lingo relates to puppies. From what I’ve managed to decode, breeds match specific races, weeks mimic ages, and adoption fee is the price per child. There aren’t specific pictures placed up for viewing pleasure however you can contact the ‘Kennel Owner’ for proof of existence. The night I discovered it? I took Lynk and Sage to school late the next morning. Sat on the couch and just held them tighter than they deemed necessary while watching classic Batman cartoons.

  Brewster switches to a pink logo with tiny vanilla cupcake, white frosting, and an oversized cherry. “The Cupcake Palace.”

  Specifically, a teenage girl auction site. The cherry is to imply you’re buying virginity, the white obviously a tacky reference to cum. It’s run a little different than The Pow Wow Pound. You can ‘browse’ the flavor combinations they have available or you can custom choose. Cake is an illusion to race, frosting hair color, additional shit such as sprinkles to imply freckles. You can request ‘mini’ for younger girls or ‘hot out the oven’ for those closer to 18. Contact is set up similarly to The Pow Wow Pound except they require you to have a reference number when sending an email. How you get the reference number I haven’t a fucking clue, but they won’t acknowledge you as a customer without it. After discovering that one? I considered buying Sage a necklace with a GPS tracker hidden in it.

  Her final image is a group of wild flowers with the words floating in the clouds behind it. “The Garden of Eden.”

  More like what was kicked out. It’s a torture auction site. The poor individuals who are sold on it are used for the purpose of pain only. Colors of flowers correlate to the amount of pain you’re looking to inflict. Breeds have something to do with sizes and seasons indicate availability. Unlike the other two they do not take special requests nor do they have any contact information listed. It has the least amount of data, which allows it to give me the least amount of nightmares. The only reason I know the little I do is from monitoring chatter with the dummy account I have set up specifically for that type of diving. Just like I have two other accounts set up for the other types. All of them are solid enough to blend in, but also documented on paper as consulting undercover operations so they don’t try to lock me up for something I would rather slit my own throat for than partake in.

  “These three have had the largest increase in traffic lately. After Reiss helped us provide a massive hit to their customers, business seemed to slow down, however over the past four days, things seem to be headed back to their established ‘normal’.” The disgust in her tone is prevalent. “Their normal means there are more victims available for exploitation. More children being abused. More women being raped. More people being murdered for entertainment.”

  And this is the hell I live in. Beth made it easier to deal with the disgusting because she was always there to provide some sort of beauty, even if it was an illusion. She viewed the world with blissfully, blazed, colored goggles, which was easy for her. She was a new age hippie with a trust fund to back her fickle beliefs and her addiction to them. She could ‘connect’ with the mother earth or dance with father time or sing the songs of the struggling souls because she was all she had to take care of. Even after we had kids that didn’t change, but at least she helped me focus on more in life than the isolated existence I came from and the desolate one I have to work in.

  “I want at least one of these down before the holiday. I want the operation destroyed and I want enough evidence on every son of a bitch who helps run the damn thing to convict them for four lifetimes. I understand there is a limited amount of information we have at this time, but use what we have. Use Reiss. Around the clock. Any lead you have send it his way. At the very least it will take him less time than the rest of you to discover if it’s viable.”

  Compliment?

  “And Reiss?” Her dark blue eyes narrow in on me. “I know you’re not giving me 100%.”

  She assumes correctly.

  “I understand how the agreement works. Every catch we convict comes with a price. You give us something to put away and we make sure you stay out of prison. No financial compensation gained.”

  Exactly. It’s why doing security work for a high-priced escort service is necessary rather than optional.

  “You provide me with something substantial to bring one of these to their knees and I’ll get you a pardon.”

  There’s a collective mumble around the room as I silently shift in my chair.

  “You do half ass work because you get a half ass reward. Well, I’m offering you your freedom. Expose the auction head and your consultation becomes profitable in new ways.”

  I roll the pen I was toying with around my fingers. “You have that authority?”

  Pretty sure she doesn’t.

  “I do. I also have the authority to revoke the deal if you disappoint me.”

  That I know for sure s
he doesn’t.

  “So, how about you stop throwing away your time with alerting the office to Murphy’s current STD problem and give me something that will actually save someone’s life.” She doesn’t wait for a response. “Dismissed.”

  Chairs move around to allow the assigned agents to exit the room along with Brewster yet Murphy plants himself in front of me. His voice drops to a low rumble, “You little piece of-”

  “I don’t like being bothered when I’m reading my kids bedtime stories.”

  His pale nostrils flare. “This is because I checked in on you? Because I was doing my job?”