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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Knight

With every string of Victor’s code I unlock, more information comes to light. It’s never-ending, and the more I read the more confident I am that this is a warning, and not a threat.

The letters and numbers on the screen blur together, my eyes are burning, but I can’t stop. Not when each new sequence reveals more about how thoroughly Victor has broken down my entire world.

Properties I own. Access points. Security protocols. He’s detailed everything, and after each string, there’s a key, a coordinate, and a question. I need to figure out all three to access the next string … and the next.

As I scribble it all down, another new pattern forms.

“Fuck.” The word escapes before I can stop it.

Glitch stirs from where she's been half-dozing in the chair. "What’s wrong?"

"This place is compromised.”

She straightens, suddenly alert. "What do you mean?"

"I mean ..." I shut down the laptop. "This location isn't secure enough. We need to move."

"Move? Now? Where?" She glances at the window, where darkness has fully settled outside.

"Yes, now. This place was only meant to be temporary anyway." I slide the laptop and flash drive into my bag. "I have somewhere even more isolated. Better protected. And more importantly, not listed in these logs as somewhere Victor has discovered."

“ More isolated? There’s nobody here!”

“Right now there isn’t. That could change at any time.”

I make sure the false wall is securely in place, gather up the few things I need—laptop, flash drive, the few supplies I bought earlier, and lead her out.

“We need to find transport.”

“From where? There’s no one here. What’s wrong with the car you used to get here?”

“That will have been reported missing.” I wrap my fingers around her bicep and pull her along with me. “There’s a mall not far from here. We can find something there.”

“Parking lots are not car sales courts!”

“Then it’s a good thing I wasn’t planning to buy one.”

Finding suitable transport doesn’t take long. Another unremarkable sedan that won’t draw attention. Glitch waits quietly while I handle the logistics of borrowing it, but I can feel her judgment every time I glance over at her.

“Where are we going?” she asks once we’re finally inside.

“Somewhere secure. There’s a safehouse I have that has no paper trail. Paid for in cash years ago. It wasn't listed in Victor’s logs.” I navigate through quiet streets, heading toward the outskirts of the city. “It’s far more isolated than our last place.”

The drive takes a couple of hours. Glitch drifts in and out of sleep beside me, her head occasionally dropping toward my shoulder before she catches herself and shifts position. Eventually I turn off the main roads onto a dirt track. The bouncing and jostling wakes her up, and she straightens in her seat, peering through the window.

The cabin, when it comes into view looks exactly like what it is. Rustic, isolated, and unremarkable.

“Stay in the car. I need to check around first.” I check my gun, flick off the safety, and get out of the car, pocketing the keys, just in case she does decide to run away.

My security sweep reveals nothing out of place, but I take my time before going into the storage shed where the generator is housed. It hums to life as soon as I start it, and lights flicker on through the windows of the cabin. Only then do I go back to collect Glitch.

She follows me to the door, waits while I unlock it, and then walks inside. The main room is sparse—table, two chairs against one wall. Single bed on the other. A door leading to the bathroom, and a small kitchen area. There’s a security box on the floor, and I go straight to that. The lid unlocks after I type in the six digit code, and I take out the higher spec laptop. The screen on this is bigger than the other one.

“First thing we need to do is deal with the police situation.” I set up the laptop on the table, and plug in the mobile internet dongle I keep for emergency use.

“How?”

“You need to talk to them.”

“ Me?”

“They have an APB out based on that anonymous tip about a hostage situation. Plus, if they’ve checked, your phone records will show all those late-night messages between you and someone that appears to be me.” I adjust the webcam settings. “We need to get a handle on it, while we have a secure connection.”

I open up an internet browser and type in a search for the local police department closest to my apartment. Once I have that, it doesn’t take long to find the advertised number to call for any sightings of me or her.

“First you need to call and tell them who you are. Then they’re going to want to see you. You can offer them a video call, for proof of life to show that you’re safe.”

Her fingers twist in the hem of her shirt. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? What do I even say to them?”

“The truth, mostly. We met online. You came to my apartment that night. We were already gone before any of the explosions went off.” I check the video feed quality. “Let them see that you’re here by choice.”

“What if they don’t believe me?”

“Make them believe you.” I shrug. “Or don’t, and then they’ll arrest me for kidnapping, and you’ll lose any chance you had of finding your brother. Your choice.”

She’s still glaring at me when the call connects.

“H-hi. My name is Evangeline Porter. I’m told you’ve been looking for me.”

There’s a brief pause at the end of the line, and then a woman replies, voice sharp. “Ms. Porter? Are you safe?”

“I … I’m fine.”

“If you’re in a safe location, I can transfer you to Detective Penhaligan.”

“I’m safe. I think there’s been a big misunderstanding.”

I nod, and her shoulders loosen slightly.

“Ms. Porter?” A male voice replaces the woman. “Where are you?”

“Do you … are you able to video call? I’m okay. Everything is okay.”

“Yes, of course.”

I reach past her and tap the screen, which changes the voice to video, then step out of view of the camera.

The detective looks just as I expected him to—mid-forties, with a world-weary expression that sharpens when he sees Glitch.

"Miss Porter. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She leans forward slightly, projecting calm. "I saw the news about Knight's apartment. We weren't there when it happened."

"Where were you?" His tone carries clear skepticism.

Her cheeks flush slightly. "We ... we'd already left. Together."

"At three in the morning?" The detective's eyebrow lifts. "And you expect me to believe you went willingly?"

"Yes, of course. Why else would I?" The color in her cheeks deepens. "I’ve been talking to Knight for weeks. He invited me to his apartment, and I wanted to see him, so … I went."

"We received an anonymous tip suggesting otherwise. It claimed they witnessed a struggle, and he took you against your will."

"That's ridiculous." Eva's voice carries just the right mix of embarrassment and indignation. "I chose to go to his apartment. I chose to leave with him. Everything that's happened has been my choice."

The detective studies her face. "You seem uncomfortable, Miss Porter."

"Because this is embarrassing!" She glances toward me, then back at the screen. "You're asking me to explain …” The red in her cheeks deepens. “ Private things."

"You understand how this looks? The timing? The circumstances?"

"I understand it looks suspicious. But how is that our fault? We didn’t arrange for someone to set off fireworks or whatever those explosions were. Knight hasn't done anything wrong." Her fingers twist together in her lap. "We're both consenting adults. What we do together is our business."

I stay just out of camera view, close enough so she can see me, but far enough away so that it doesn’t look like I don’t trust her. She's playing this perfectly—the slight awkwardness, the embarrassed glances, the way she can't quite meet the detective's eyes when certain implications arise.

"Are you sure you're safe? That you're not being coerced into saying things you don’t want to?"

"The only thing I'm being coerced into is this conversation." She lifts her chin. "I appreciate the concern, but I’m a grown woman who is more than capable of making her own choices. I would appreciate it if you would stop trying to arrest my b-boyfriend. We weren't at the apartment when whatever happened there went down. We came out of the city to spend the weekend together. If you’ve spoken to anyone at my workplace, they can confirm that I took vacation time."

That last comment seems to be the thing that changes the detective’s attitude. He asks a few more questions, but they feel like he’s just ticking boxes, and she maintains the story.

"You did well." I shut down the laptop.

She wraps her arms around herself. "They think we're ..."

"Let them. It's safer than the truth." I focus on setting up my equipment.

The generator's steady hum fills the silence while I work. She moves around the cabin, exploring the small space. Each time she passes behind me, I catch traces of her scent. It's distracting in ways I can't afford right now.

Hours pass. The logs reveal more patterns, more breadcrumbs Victor left for me to follow. But my attention keeps splitting between the screen and Eva's presence. She's curled in one of the chairs now, watching me work with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.

When her eyes start to drift closed, I stop what I’m doing and turn to look at her.

"Go to bed."

“What about you?”

“I’m going to keep working for a while. I’ll take a nap when I’m done.”

"There's room for both of us." Her quiet words hang in the air between us, making it clear she knows what I’m doing, what I’m avoiding. "We're both adults. We’ve shared a bed once already. I’m sure we can manage it again."