Page 31 of Private Exhibit (Gentleman Hackers #4)

DEVON STARED at the door after Andy left, wondering again how in all seven hells the man could do what he did. How did he face grieving families like that? How did he endure witnessing that kind of pain over and over?

How did he tell them how their loved ones had died?

Devon shivered. He was going to have to do the same thing for Oliver, provided he actually found some answers. Devon took a deep breath, held it as long as he could, then let it back out in a rush as he logged into the computer and searched for Dannika's name.

He knew he was supposed to be moving on to cleaning out Andy's old office, but considering he'd found the man in there that morning, clearly deep in some kind of research, there was no way he could go back up there without asking first.

Besides, this moment of opportunity had dropped into his lap. He had to take it.

One result popped up. Devon tapped on it to open the file, then frowned as he started to read. This wasn't even an autopsy report. Just a regular clinical checkup from two years ago.

Devon searched every page of the file, just to be sure. Finally, he went back to the first page of patient data and checked it all again.

At the very bottom, in tiny text, he found links referencing five other DNA profiles.

Devon gasped. On every other file he'd handled, those DNA profiles pointed to blood relatives.

It was something the hospital's system ran automatically.

Almost any time a patient came in, regardless of the reason, a small blood draw was taken and fed into a machine that analyzed the DNA and then compared it with all other DNA samples in the database.

The purpose was two-fold: one, the system looked for any genetic relations, which allowed the hospital to not only have another avenue to reach next-of-kin but also helped them look for genetic conditions, should something like that be relevant; and, two, it helped to consolidate all of a patient's records, just in case the patient's name or date of birth was entered incorrectly upon intake.

In Dannika's case, three of the links were for exact DNA matches, but under completely different names, while the other two were flagged with a footnote: 'secondary profile.'

What the hells?

Devon clicked on the first link and displayed the file side-by-side with Dannika's. Sure enough, they were an exact DNA match. Devon opened another and did the same thing, seeing the same results. He moved the files around, giving himself space to open the rest.

The three that had been linked as an exact match were just that. But the other two—the ones flagged as being secondary profiles—made Devon sit back with a gasp. Genetically, the secondary profiles were for Dannika's sibling, not Dannika herself.

Devon frowned. Did she even have a sibling? Oliver had never said as much. Maybe Oliver didn't even know?

Except, in one of the files—one under the name Rachel Stone—the notes indicated those two sets of DNA had come from the same person.

Devon's eyes went wide as he read. Samples had been taken in the form of a blood draw, a cheek swab, and even a hair extraction. The analyses of the latter two were the same, but the former—the blood draw—was different.

Only the latter matched the DNA recorded in Dannika's file. When Devon went back and checked, sure enough, Dannika's samples had all been in the form of cheek swabs. Never a blood draw.

My gods. All six files were for the exact same person. Different names. Slightly different dates of birth, which a patient could easily lie about, especially if he or she came in under an alias. And two distinct DNA profiles. Still, there was no denying it.

They were all Dannika. A chimera. Two people in one.

Damn . No wonder Oliver hadn't been able to find out how Dannika died when he tried hacking the hospital. It wasn't actually in Dannika's file. For her final visit, she'd been registered under another name.

Devon went through each of the files, laying them out in order by visit date. Most of them were for regular checkups: blood work, STD panels, physical exams. Then he found a series of feminizing surgeries and hormone treatments. Oh! Now the two distinct sets of DNA made more sense.

Dannika had been trans.

Besides those records, there were a series of incidents marked down as 'accidents' but were clearly some sort of abuse or domestic violence.

Devon winced. Oliver had mentioned Dannika having a hard life, but seeing it all laid out on a screen like that—especially with pictures attached—made it much more real.

He pushed all the files aside and focused on the last one. Dannika's autopsy was documented under the Rachel Stone profile—hence the extra-thorough DNA analyses—and her emergency contact was listed as Gavin Lee.

Devon blinked. Holy shit . Gavin Lee owned The Dungeon. Devon knew that from when the Gentleman Hackers had tested the club's security recently. Was that why Dannika had been there on her last night? Was Gavin the 'he' referred to in her trampled suicide note?

That was going to take some more research. Devon put that aside for the moment and did a quick check of the other aliases. The file under Dannika Wells also showed Lee as the emergency contact, but all the other aliases listed Oliver Wells instead.

Gods . That was why Oliver hadn't been able to get any information when he'd approached the hospital directly right after Dannika died. She'd been brought in under a name that didn't allow him access. And under the wrong name at that.

Now, Devon could get him some answers.

He took a deep breath and reached for the tab for the autopsy report.

His phone vibrated, startling him. Devon gripped the edge of the desk, trying to catch his breath. When his phone vibrated again, he scrambled to pull it out, thinking it had to be Oliver.

Instead, he found one message from his bank, notifying him of a deposit to his account. The next was a text from an unknown sender.

[BLOCKED] : I'm sorry that took so long. I meant to pay you last night, but things got really crazy here. -Grim

Oh . It was his payment for the hacking job he'd submitted. Devon felt a tiny hint of relief, knowing he'd be able to make rent now.

He replied with a quick thank you text, then set his phone aside. After taking a moment to regain his focus, Devon reached out again and tapped on the autopsy tab, opening the file.

Devon gasped. Oh my gods . He'd seen so many of these over the past few days, but none of them had truly registered. They were all strangers. Granted, Dannika was a stranger, too, but Oliver had known her.

And Devon was going to have to break the news of how she died.

“Dev?”

Devon yelped and jumped back. He stared up at Andy, standing in the office doorway, so startled that he almost didn't recognize him at first.

Andy winced. “Sorry. I thought you heard me come in.”

Devon shook his head and felt a blush take over his face.

“Devon?” Andy's expression turned wary. “What's going on?”

“Nothing,” Devon blurted out.

Andy's face went eerily blank. “Devon,” he said, the word coming out low and tight.

“I'm looking up something for Oliver,” Devon blurted out. “I'm sorry. Please don't fire me. He just wanted to know how she died, that's all–”

Andy's entire posture softened as he crossed the room. “Hey. Dev? Baby? It's alright.” He blew out a breath. “I'm sorry. I saw that guilty look on your face and thought you were keeping something from me–”

“No! I mean…” Devon grimaced and looked down. “I know I shouldn't be doing this, but Oliver's my best friend. And if you have to fire me, I'll understand–”

“Devon, hey.” Andy crouched down and grabbed his hands. “Dev? I'm not gonna fire you. Alright? Look at me.”

Devon squirmed, struggling to meet Andy's eyes. “I wasn't trying to keep secrets from you, I swear.”

“I know,” Andy murmured. After a pause, he said, “You wanna tell me what this is all about?”

Devon grimaced again. “Oliver had a friend who died, and he wasn't allowed to get any information about it. He's the one who found her body, but the hospital wouldn't tell him anything because she was brought in under an alias that didn't list him as her emergency contact.”

“Shit,” Andy quietly swore. “I'm so sorry. I hate cases like that. People begging to know how someone died, but we can't give out information…” Andy seemed to stifle a shiver, then asked, “Was this recent?”

Instead of answering, Devon pointed at the file.

Andy glanced at it. “Oh. Yeah. I remember that one.”

“You do?”

“Hard to forget the ones whose ghosts never show.”

Devon's heart sank. “Never?”

Andy shook his head. “There was a whole investigation with that one.

I remember something about her being found with a suicide note, but the note was illegible.

The investigators asked me if I'd seen her ghost, but I hadn't.

There was nothing I could tell them other than how she'd died, and that it was definitely suicide, not murder.”

“Who investigated it?”

“I'm sorry, Dev. I don't remember.”

“So you don't know if they ever figured out the note?”

Andy shook his head again.

Devon slowly nodded in resignation. “She suffered, didn't she?”

“Yeah,” Andy gently replied. “She did. It wasn't quick. And it definitely wasn't painless.”

Devon winced. “How am I supposed to tell him that?”

“As gently as possible,” Andy said, squeezing his hands. “If you want me to do it…”

Devon's eyes went wide, but then he shook his head. “No. You've had to do that so much, and I can't even imagine how you handle it–”

“Dev,” Andy interrupted him. “Let me do this for you.”

Devon squirmed, thinking about it. Gods . It would be so much easier to let Andy take over. To let Andy give Oliver that devastating news. Hells . He even considered it would be easier for himself to die and simply disappear so he never had to give Oliver the news at all.

But this was Oliver. The man who'd saved him more times than he could count. “I have to do this myself,” Devon finally said. “He's my best friend. It should come from me.”

Andy slowly nodded, giving him a soft, proud smile. “Alright. But if you change your mind, or if you even just want me there…”

“I'll tell you,” Devon promised.

“That's my good boy,” Andy murmured, then leaned in and kissed him.

Devon gasped.

Andy started to pull back, searching his eyes, then let out a curse and slammed into him.

Devon sucked in a ragged breath, caught completely off-guard, then moaned as Andy hauled him out of the chair and pressed him back against the wall.

Oh my gods . Devon gasped again, barely managing to gasp before Andy crushed their mouths together.

His knees buckled, but Andy caught him, hauling him around and shoving him onto the desk instead.

Andy's hands were all over him. Twisting into his hair.

Framing his face. Groping his sides. Tugging at his clothes.

All the while, those devastating, drugging kisses went on, Andy's mouth consuming him in a way that Devon had only seen in movies.

Devon felt claimed and worshiped and owned right down to his core.

He never wanted this moment to end.

“Daddy!” Devon gasped, the word tearing out of him.

“Oh gods,” Andy panted, his entire body shuddering.

“Devon? Fuck,” Andy cursed, barely getting the word out before their mouths collided again.

He climbed up on top of Devon, pinning him down to the desk.

His hipbones dug painfully into Devon's groin, his weight crushing Devon's lungs, his hand pinning Devon's arm at an awkward angle.

But then there was also that huge bulge rubbing against him. That warm body driving away the chill in the room. The rapid pounding of that heart reverberating through his own body.

It was all too much and not enough.

“Daddy! Oh gods. Daddy, please–”

Andy attacked him, crushing him in a kiss as his hands frantically moved, tugging at Devon's clothes, groping all over his body.

Devon was barely able to register that it was suddenly easier to breathe and that his pants didn't feel so tight, then felt a long finger stroke between his legs.

He arched up with a ragged gasp. Oh fuck . He bucked beneath Andy, needing it to stop, desperately wanting more. It was too much and not enough all at once. “Daddy!”

“Look at me,” Andy growled between panted breaths. “Devon? Gods, please. Look at me.”

Devon's eyes flew open, and he stared up at Andy, feeling so much need that he thought he might explode.

“Just look at me,” Andy murmured.

Devon managed a nod in response and tried to speak, but all words vanished when Andy moved his fingers again.

Oh fuck . Andy moved on top of him, making it look like he was thrusting into him while his fingers did all the work. Devon wanted those fingers inside him, but there wasn't room. His pants were too tight, and Andy had him too thoroughly pinned.

But those devastating strokes never stopped.

Andy moved his hand faster, rubbing harder, using his other hand to grab Devon by the hair to keep him pinned in place, their gazes locked as the pleasure built and built and built.

For once in his life, holding eye-contact wasn't scary or overwhelming.

It almost felt like he was looking straight into Andy's soul.

He saw the need. The desperation. The life-altering vulnerability.

But he also saw the power. The control. Andy owned him, pure and simple.

It was perfect.

Andy's mimed thrusting stuttered, losing its rhythm. The man moaned, almost closing his eyes before snapping them back open, staring down at Devon as though his life depended on it. “Oh gods,” he gasped. “Devon–”

“Daddy–”

Andy kissed him, then pressed their foreheads together as he resumed his pace, bucking against Devon's hip and moving his hand in time with every thrust.

Devon inwardly flailed, unable to physically move but feeling like he was going to splinter apart at any moment. “Andy! Daddy! Oh gods. I'm–” He sucked in a breath, right on the edge.

And then everything stopped. The pleasure vanished, and Andy's weight was suddenly gone.

Andy stopped moving, panting as he looked down at him. “Devon? Baby? What's wrong?”

Devon looked down, trying to make sense of what was going on.

“Oh gods,” he gasped.

“Dev?”

Devon swallowed hard and looked back up at Andy. “I can't feel my legs.”

“What?”

Devon panted as panic set in.

“I can't feel anything.”