Page 100

Fate

Today

Even with zero evidenceof someone being in the woods, Drake and Raider demand they stick around for the night to help keep watch. Not sure who they’re more worried about, me or Nash.

"How did you find Drake and the team?" I ask, tossing the fifth book I've attempted to focus on in the past ten minutes to the table.

Nash glances from where he lounges on the couch with Dobby beside him on the floor. "He found me." He shuts his eyes like he's done with the story, but the corner of his lips twitching upward tells me he’s holding more back on purpose.

Ass.

"And?" I fling a pillow at his head but miss completely and nail Dobby, who shoots an annoyed look my direction before trotting away.

"Remember the female officer I helped out?" His eyes flick open once again and focus on me. I nod and lean forward in my chair. "Drake's her dad. She told him what happened, what really happened, and he invited me to the team."

"You still had to prove yourself," Drake says sternly, walking back into the room. "My place is a damn sty. And what in the hell made you bring that thing?" I don’t hide my frown as Drake points to Dobby.

"Told you," Raider says with a smile, which I return. "At least he smells better. He was a big part of the odor problem. And I think that’s his therapy dog, boss."

From the couch, Nash's arm shoots up, middle finger proudly on display to the two men standing behind the couch out of his line of sight.

"Everything looks secure, but we’ll take another walk around the perimeter just in case. You two stay put. Wouldn’t want to shoot you by accident."

Watching them file out the front door, I shake my head in disbelief. "He wouldn't shoot us." I turn to Nash, who's smiling. "Would he?"

"Drake? Probably, just to prove a point."

"What point would shooting me prove?"

"To listen and obey orders. It's one of my weaknesses."

With a giggle, the earlier cloud on my mood having lifted after dinner—which Raider made, so I didn't have to stomach another round of breakfast food—I push off the soft leather armchair and stretch. "Mine too, per you. I'm going to log on and get started. Toss me your phone for when Mac calls."

"You know, during those few months we worked together to find you, he never mentioned how you two met. Every time I asked, he said it was your story to tell."

"I guess it is." Turning the game on him, I shrug and act like I'm heading up the stairs.

"And...?" The same pillow I threw at his head soars across the room, but his aim is better than mine. I let out a yelp and lunge to the side as the pillow whizzes past my head.

"You won’t like it, the story. The whole story. Sure you want to hear it?"

Now I have his full attention. Sitting up, he turns to face me straight on. Can't avoid this conversation forever, I guess. Dropping to a stair, I tuck my knees close and sigh, staring at the front door.

"In high school, I was a loner and had a mom who worked three jobs most of the time."

"Okay, I don't get—"

"I learned a lot about the type of person predators target the first few months of working with the FBI." I shrug and lean back on the stairs to stare at the dark beams lining the ceiling. "Anyway, I didn't realize what was going on at first. It started with my English teacher offering to help me after school. ‘Free tutoring’ was how he phrased it. And again, I learned more about the stages of luring victims while in the FBI, which helped, I think, because it wasn't just me it worked on, you know." Nash's eyes are fixed on me, unblinking. "After a while, he told me I needed to start thanking him for all the extra work he was putting in, and I believed him. It was never forced, just reciprocal, or that's the way he made me feel about it.

"After that year, he transferred to a different school, so it ended and I moved on, until one day Destiny came home claiming one of her teachers offered to tutor her after school. The next day I took my laptop to school, sat in a bathroom stall and... I've always been good at computers, but this was my first time really hacking into anything, so it took me a while. But finally I got into his laptop through the school’s shitty 'secure' Wi-Fi and the pathetic firewalls this teacher had set up. I was really hoping I was wrong, but as I dug through the various files, I found a hidden chat room."

Swallowing against my dry throat, I open my eyes and gasp. Sometime during the story, he moved from the couch and now leans against the wooden railing, gazing down at me. "What was in the chat room?" he asks.

"I didn't know what to do with all the information. It was way beyond anything I expected to find. It was a bunch of names talking about different ruses they used to play their students, like it was a fucking game. I still remember feeling helpless, having all the information and nothing I could do with it, but I had to do something. So I looked up the Dallas FBI division, found the cyber team, chose the hottest guy and sent every piece of evidence I could siphon out of this guy’s laptop. Two weeks later, it was breaking news in Fort Worth that fourteen teachers were arrested for various charges.

"About a month after that, I came home from school and found the hot FBI guy I’d sent the information to sitting on my mom's couch. And from there it's history, I guess."

Not daring to look at him, I watch Raider and Drake file back into the living room, shooting questioning looks in our direction. I'm sure they’re wondering what they interrupted.