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Story: The Hacker

“She’s still in New Orleans,” I said finally. “Hasn’t left the city in a decade. Paints pictures of women with no mouths. Says they’re saints.”
“Jesus.”
He didn’t push. Just let the silence settle between us like something sacred.
After a while, I spoke again, softer. “She used to sing to me, you know? Real soft. Almost like she didn’t want the world to hear. But it always felt like goodbye.”
Elias’s hand found mine again, his grip firm.
“You’re not her,” he said.
I nodded. “No. I’m worse.”
His jaw tensed, but he didn’t argue. Didn’t try to fix it. He just stayed.
And that? That mattered more than anything else.
The silence wrapped around us again.
Elias kissed the back of my hand, then sat up, rubbing a hand down his face like he was shaking something off. “I’ve got a few things to check on,” he said. “Nothing I can’t push if you’ve got ideas.”
I stretched out on my stomach, folding my arms under my chin. “No ideas. Just stolen time until I have to meet Jessa.”
His gaze lingered on me like he wanted to say more, but instead he nodded. “We’ll make the most of it.”
16
ELIAS
Vivi’s scent clung to me. A ghost I didn’t want gone.
She was in the shower down the hall, water running behind the half-closed door of my suite’s bathroom, steam curling beneath it.
I sat at my desk, screens glowing, casting sharp shadows. Obsidian coiled in her corner, black eyes glinting like she knew my sins.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, ready to dig into Jessa Lane. Vivi’s daredevil friend. But my mind was tangled in red curls, green eyes that burned through my walls.
My cock twitched, hard just thinking of her. For once, my head agreed, both screaming her name.
Jessa’s texts—urgent, cryptic, desperate—set my demon on edge. Vivi was meeting her tonight. I wasn’t letting her walk in blind.
I fired up a script, sharp and simple. Scraped public records, social media, anything on Jessa. Barista, Charleston native, no criminal record. Clean. Boring.
Except for her tie to Vivi. That made her anything but.
My thoughts drifted as the script ran. Vivi’s laugh, throaty and warm, echoed in my head. The way she’d teased me about chaining her to my bedpost.
Fuck, I wanted her done with her shower. Sprawled on my sheets, body soft, marked from last night. Her mouth on me, pussy clenching my cock, fire burning me alive.
But more, I wantedtomorrowwith her. Her waking in my bed, curls tangled, voice filling this cold suite with life.
The thought hit like a fist. Raw. Unfamiliar. I didn’t plan tomorrows. Not for me. Work, sure—hacks, ops, Dominion Hall’s chess game. But me? I lived in the now. Code. Control.
Vivi was changing that. It scared the shit out of me.
The script pinged. Jessa’s digital footprint was sparse. Instagram posts of coffee art, blurry shots with Vivi, kayaking, laughing.
Nothing screamed danger. But the demon didn’t trust clean.