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Twelve
Conor
Present Day
"I can’t believeyou did that. Again. Do you know what shit you cause every time you hack my fucking system, Star? Jesus Christ. You not only make me look bad, but I lose hundreds of thousands of dollars because Da fines the fuck out of me."
Silence fell at my opening greeting.
Some more came.
And some more.
Then, she groused, "You finished?"
"I think the silence indicated that, didn’t it?" I snapped.
"I won’t let you talk down to me, Conor," she warned, then she heaved a sigh. "I didn’t want to have to do that, but what the hell was I supposed to do?
"Savannah needed help and I knew you could give it to her, knew that you’d keep her safe. I’m not going to apologize for protecting a friend from a mutual enemy."
Growling under my breath, I snarled, "You could have phoned me. I’d have opened the fucking front door for her!"
There was a throb of quiet that seemed to have a heartbeat of its very own, then, in a small voice, she muttered, "Oh."
Oh.
Yeah.
I took that to be an admission that I was right. That she was fucking wrong.
I blew out an annoyed breath, but before I could say another word, Star stunned the hell out of me by saying, "I’m sorry, Conor. Sometimes... Sometimes it’s just hard to think normally."
Because I got that, because I couldn’tnotget that, I reached up and rubbed my eyes. I was pissed, wicked pissed, in fact, but her apology came as much of a surprise as the rest of her words.
"I understand, Star. I’m probably the only person who does, so maybe try to not piss me off?"
"I-I just didn’t think. I reacted."
"I know. But where I’m concerned, you don’t have to, do you? You just call me. You just say, my friend has a problem. Can you please help me? Christ, I’ll even help without the ‘please.’ Just try not to cost me five hundred thou every time you need something, huh?"
"That’s how much he’ll fine you?" She sucked in a surprised breath. "Fuck, your dad’s a real piece of work, isn’t he?"
"You’re only just figuring that out?" I questioned dryly.
"Well, no, but I didn’t think he’d fine you for a fuck up."
"He does. It’s a deterrent, and it usually works."
"Did he fine you the first time I hacked your system?"
I hummed. "He did." A ping sounded on my phone, and I frowned, pulling away to stare at the notification before gruffly telling her, "You didn’t have to do that."
"No, but it’s not fair for you to take the hit when it was my fuck up."
I grunted as I stared at the five-hundred large that were sitting pretty in my bank account, which was proof that she not only knew my account number, but that she’d known it for a while.
What was her game and why did it give me a boner?
