Page 32 of Jezebel’s Liberation (Hellfire Hackers #1)

Three days later…

“ Y ou know I hate this, right?”

Soul has been complaining about Jez, Demon, and me returning to his sister’s house now that the rest of Hellfire are gone since the moment Jez announced our intentions. At first, his grumbling caused an argument, but now Jez simply ignores him.

“You about ready?” she asks me, turning her back on Prez.

She made the decision to send the team home when we weren’t getting anywhere with finding Stewart.

We did manage to track down some other members of the ring, and each of the hackers has orders to destroy them by leaking evidence of their extracurricular activities to the media.

Not only is it satisfying to ruin someone publicly, but we’re also hoping to draw Stewart and others out.

After stuffing the last of the computer equipment into a bag, I turn to her and smile. “Yep.”

“Ignoring me isn’t going to make me go away, Jez,” Soul says, his teeth clenched.

“And complaining to me isn’t going to make me change my mind,” she quips, brushing past him to head toward the elevator.

“Dammit,” he grumps. “I hope you know what you’re getting into with her,” he says to me as we follow behind her.

I grin. “Chill out, man. Demon and I aren’t going to let anything happen to her.”

He narrows his eyes. “Is this coming from my prospect or my future brother-in-law? Cause I gotta say, if it’s from my prospect, you’re about two seconds away from choking on some teeth.”

My grin widens. “Brother-in-law, huh?”

He punches me on the arm. “That’s what you’re focusing on?”

Shrugging, I reply, “If it boils down to my relationship with Jez or the club, yeah, I’m focusing on anything to do with her every fucking time.”

I know that’s probably not the right answer, but it’s the truth, and I won’t lie about that.

Soul sighs. “Good.”

“‘Bout time,” Demon states when I join him and Jez at the elevators. “We gotta roll if we’re gonna be there in time to accept delivery of your bikes.”

“And I, for one, am really looking forward to seeing you on one of them,” Jez adds with a sexy grin.

Demon presses his palm to the biometric scanner, and the door to the elevator slides open. The three of us step on, but before the door can close, Soul slaps a hand on the frame to stop it.

“Be safe, okay?” he says, staring at his twin with that worry crease wrinkling his forehead.

“Always,” Jez promises.

Forty minutes later, we turn onto Jez’s street in Boulder City, and I spot a truck parked at the curb, and the back is open to reveal three familiar Harleys.

“Just in time,” she says from the passenger seat as my Fat Boy is unloaded.

I can’t fucking wait to get her on the back of my bike.

Demon can’t either, and I smirk at the memory of his griping in the garage at the clubhouse.

He was pissed because Jez said she’d ride with me in her Charger and not on the back of his bike.

I should’ve told her to go with him, but fuck it, I’m selfish.

After parking in the driveway, Demon and Jez begin gathering everything from the vehicles while I sign for my motorcycles. I inspect them for any damage and am beyond grateful when I find none.

“As soon as we get all this shit inside, we can put my car and all your toys in the garage,” Jez says as she lifts a bag from her trunk.

Once we have all our equipment and duffels full of clothes and personal shit on the porch, Jez unlocks the front door, and we step inside. My stomach drops at the sight that greets us.

“What the fuck?” Demon seethes, dropping the duffel he’s holding to the floor.

“How is this… But my… Motherfucker!” Jez shouts.

Her place is trashed. Furniture is sliced open, picture frames are shattered into pieces, and holes are in her walls. But that’s not even the worst of it.

“You’re not as safe as you think you are,” I say, reading the red message on the wall.

“I have great security,” Jez says, scanning the room. “How could this happen?”

I move to wrap my arms around her waist, and Demon steps in front of her to place his hands on her shoulders.

“They won’t get away with this,” I assure her. “Whoever did it, they’ll pay.”

“No shit,” she snaps. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“ We’ll make sure of it,” Demon corrects. “The three of us.”

Jez shakes her head, but it’s not a dismissal of his words. “Right. Um, I guess we should go through the rest of the house and see what else they did.”

“Why don’t you go and make sure your lair is still secure, and Demon and I will check out everything else?” I suggest.

She nods. “Good idea.”

Jez ducks under Demon’s arm and stomps across the room toward the kitchen.

“I’m gonna fucking kill ‘em,” he seethes when she’s gone.

“Damage control now, plot murder and mayhem later.”

The two of us sweep through the rest of the first floor, finding more damage but no messages. When we head upstairs, we sweep one room at a time, saving the master bedroom for last. By the time we reach it, Jez is running up the steps.

“Lair is safe, thank fuck,” she says.

“That’s good because so far, every other room in the place is destroyed,” Demon grits.

“Soul is gonna have a field day with this,” she mutters.

Facing her, I cup her cheeks. “No, he won’t. We won’t let him.”

Rolling her eyes, she blows out a breath. “Yeah, okay.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Demon says, nodding at the bedroom door. “I swear on all that’s unholy, if they ruined the bed, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

Jez and I chuckle, and Demon’s faint smirk tells me that his comment got his intended reaction: a little lighter mood.

Just like when we opened the front door, when we step into the bedroom, we freeze.

The space is pristine with not even the slightest hint of damage.

But in the middle of the neatly made bed—the same one we didn’t make before we left for the clubhouse days ago—are three black envelopes and a black box.

“Well, this can’t be good,” I say, breaking away from them to get the ominous envelopes.

There’s one addressed to each of us in bold, blood red handwriting, and I give them theirs. Demon is the first to open his.

Mark Grandon,

Everything you’ve spent your life hating, you’ve now become. Your trauma, as you so misguidedly call it, prepared you for the life you lead as part of a throuple. Instead of hunting me down, you should be thanking me. Think about that before you continue on your mission to take me out.

Always your first,

S.C.

Demon’s face pales as he reads the letter out loud, and his hands shake when he looks in the envelope to find a picture.

“What is it?” Jez demands.

“It’s, um…” He swallows, his expression tortured.

Rather than continue, he flips the image around so we can see it. My blood boils at what is clearly a still from a video of Demon bent over a table that a girl is strapped to, and two grown men doing their worst to destroy them both.

“Omigod,” Jez says on an exhale. “They recorded it?”

Demon sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the picture. “I… Fuck! Will I ever be free of this?”

“You will,” I tell him. “I promise you that.”

“Me, too,” Jez adds, and we sit on either side of him. “Uh, Phantom, you read yours next. I don’t think I can stomach what might be in mine.”

I arch a brow, wondering what could possibly be worse than what we’ve already seen, but I don’t argue. Tearing open the envelope, I pull out a letter.

Preston Graham,

You think you can put an end to this, to me and my friends? Think again, hacker. We will bury you long before you have a chance to bury us. Back off on your pursuit to find me, leave Betts alone, and crawl back into your dungeon before it’s too late.

Secretly a fan of your work,

S.C.

“Did you get a picture, too?” Demon asks when I finish reading.

I look, and vision blurs when I see that I did. After scanning another still image from a video, I turn it to show them.

“How is this possible?” Jez asks incredulously.

I shrug. “He must have cameras hidden that aren’t linked to the FBI network.

“What are you two talking about? Who has hidden cameras?” Demon demands.

“Agent Betts,” I explain. “This is a picture of me when I broke into his office.”

“Well, this just keeps getting better and better,” he snarls. “Now there’s evidence of you committing a felony. Fucking awesome.”

“We’ll fix this,” Jez says, resting her hand on his arm.

“I know. It’s just…” Demon pauses, waving his hand dismissively. “Jez, what’s in your envelope?”

She hesitantly pulls out her letter.

Mary Hodges,

You have blood on your hands, yet you seek me out to make me pay for my perceived sins.

Hypocrisy isn’t a good look. Stop looking for me, and stop this ridiculous mission to eliminate what you can’t possibly understand.

Or keep going and see how long it takes before you and all your friends are thrown in cells. The choice is yours.

Your judge, jury, and executioner,

S.C.

After setting the piece of paper on the mattress beside her, she slides a polaroid out of the envelope and hisses when she sees what the picture is. Demon and I lean in to get a good look, and I’m equal parts proud and horrified.

The picture is of Jez and Grim, and based on how different they look, I can only assume it’s from years ago. Grim is holding a man by the arms, and Jez has her fingers wrapped around the hilt of a knife that’s embedded in the man’s chest.

“When’s this from?” Demon demands.

Jez blinks several times. “It’s, uh… That’s one of the first people Grim and I took out while Soul and Malice were in the military.”

“In other words, this is evidence that you murdered someone,” I say unnecessarily.

“He deserved it,” she snaps, glaring at me.

“Not questioning that, babe. Promise.”

She heaves a sigh. “Sorry.”

“Listen to me,” I begin. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. This is not your fault.”

“ He’s right,” Demon agrees. “And as much as I’d like to end this little show and tell, we still have that box,” he says, nodding toward the center of the bed.

Jez turns as if to grab it, but Demon holds her in place so I can snatch the box. I carefully take off the lid, holding my breath as if expecting the thing to blow up in my hands. I release a rush of air when nothing happens.

“It’s an invitation,” I say, pulling out the black cardstock with fancy red script on it. “Here, take a look.”

Ring around the rosie, pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, you’ll show up to celebrate or I’ll knock your asses down.

Date: May 24, 2025

Location: 1491 Locust Drive, Boulder City, Nevada

Time: 8:00pm

This invitation permits Mark, Preston, and Mary entry into this exclusive, one-time event. There are no plus ones. If anyone other than those three invited shows up, the consequences will be immeasurable.

“Do you know where that is?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Jez replies. “It’s a pretty rundown area of town. Nothing but abandoned buildings.”

“The twenty-fourth is only a few days away,” Demon says. “Not much time to plan.”

“Wait, so we’re going?” I demand.

“Got a problem with that?” Demon snaps.

“Nope. I just want to make sure we’re prepared. And like I said, we don’t have much time.”

“If these sick fucks want a fight, we’ll give them a fight,” Jez seethes, shooting to her feet and beginning to pace. “We’re not backing down from this.”

“Of course, we’re not,” I agree, standing to wrap my arms around her before she wears a hole in the carpet.

“This is our chance,” Demon states, moving to stand behind her. “We take him out, once and for all.”