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“What else am I forgetting if I forgot that?”
He snorted. “You’re not a computer, Star. You don’t have a hundred terabytes of storage in your brain for random bits of information.”
“I know but—”
“No, no ‘buts.’ Stop being hard on yourself. Instead, applaud yourself, for God’s sake. You didn’t—” He blew out a breath like the ramifications of what had happened were starting to sink in. “You bought that on a whim, Star. A fucking whim. And those login details weren’t just anyone’s, they belonged to Justin DeLaCroix, the head of the Sparrows himself! The chief justice himself. Can you even imagine what’s stored on that app? Can you—”
Abruptly, he fell silent, seeming to choke on his words.I got it.I rocked my head to the side to look at him and almost smiled. His eyes were wide, his mouth wider, and it was opening and closing like words were forming but he couldn’t get them out. It was definitely goldfish-esque but a lot more elegant than puking up yesterday's and today’s meager meals.
He clearly couldnotimagine what was stored on that app.
Neither could I.
I slipped my hand into his. “Conor?”
“Y-Yeah?” he croaked out.
“We’ve done it, haven’t we?”
He turned and pressed our foreheads together. “I can’t answer that until we look deeper into the app, but we’re going somewhere instead of nowhere, and that was our end destination this morning.”
His rationale stung, but I appreciated that he didn’t sell me false hope. Nodding at him, I agreed, “Somewhere is definitely better than nowhere.”
He kissed my temple. “Whatever’s on that app—we’ll tear the bastards to shreds, Star.”
For the first time today, I felt more like myself as I spat, “We sure as hell will.”
30
DEAD TO ME
It wasin a sniper’s nature to prefer long-distance shots.
The farther away, the better. Less chance of getting caught was preferable to the high risks associated with kills over a short distance. But that meant I was pouting at having to go as close as the neighbor’s yard to Senator John McClure’s mansion in Kentucky.
His neighbors had kindly constructed a treehouse for their child and because they were ridiculously rich, it was better appointed than my loft in Manhattan.
I peered out of Cooper’s scope and watched the senator and his wife as they ate their meal together, much as they’d done for each of the two nights I’d been staking out their home.
Dinner at eight PM.
A glass of wine for her and a brandy for him in front of the fire as they both read the day’s papers at a quarter to nine until ten PM.
Then she’d toddle off to bed and he’d veer toward the porch where he’d smoke a cigar from ten until ten-thirty.
The audacity of men never ceased to boggle my mind, and when I thought of what he kept beneath his property, it became more than just audacious. It was proof of how untouchable the asswipe thought he was.
Tucked below the thousands of square feet of marble that had been funded by a great-great-great granddaddy who didn’t believe in the abolition of slavery was a basement.
A basement I’d seen him sneak down to once during my time here.
Security roamed the land, and armed cops manned the gates to his mansion, but the man had a sex slave in his basement.
Yes,audaciouswas one word for a man like that.
But those types of people were the very best marks.
It was always satisfying to cut someone down whose arrogance made them think they were above reproach.
