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Again, low-budget black ops.
“You’re fine, man,” Cam tells him. “It’s when you start locking things we can’t unlock that I’ll have an issue with..”
The guy forces out a laugh. “Yeah, none of that.”
It goes quiet, and it’s in no way comfortable. But thankfully, he claps and heads to his computer.
“Right, so.” He sits down and starts typing. “I will say that I don’t like that you insisted on being here as I do this.Orthe fact that this guy is a senator’s son.”
What the fuck?“So, what? You had us come all the way down here to tell us you’re not going to do it?”
Turning around, he stares at me with zero emotion on his face. “Yes. I gave away my secret location for something I could have said over a text message.”
As he rolls his eyes and goes back to what he was doing, Cam chuckles. “I like this guy.”
“Fuck off.”
“Lucky for you,” the hacker continues. “I hate the government more than I hate to compromise.”
Cam and I stand behind him, watching him type a million miles a minute. The computer screen is filled with code in multiple different areas, and we couldn’t read what it says if we tried. It’s like another language, and this dude is fluent at it.
“You said we’re looking for a video?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I answer. “It’s a sex tape taken from a hidden camera on a boat.”
A few minutes and a thousand keystrokes later, he sits up straighter. “Okay, I’m in.”
How in the fuck? I tried for hours to figure out a way to hack into his phone, and this guy did it in a matter of five minutes. I really should have paid more attention in school.
“I believe this should be it.”
With a click of his mouse, the video appears on the screen. Cam looks away, but the sound of Laiken’s moaning flows through the speakers.
“Damn. Who’s the babe?”
Both of us glare at him. “My wife,” I snap at the same time Cam says, “my sister.”
He glances between us, and his brows raise. “Becausethatdoesn’t sound complicated.”
The noise stops as he spins back around and presses the spacebar to pause the video. He pulls open a drawer and takes out a thumb drive, inserting it into the computer.
“Once I erase this, the only place it’ll exist is in this drive,” he tells us, then he pauses. “Wait a minute.”
“What?” I growl. “Don’t tell me you can’t erase it.”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s not that. But you should see what else this guy has on his phone.”
Cam and I lean in to get a better look. There are tons of pictures and videos—from girls our age to older women. And it doesn’t stop as he scrolls down. It’s like this guy is just some sick pervert who collects illicit videos of women without their permission.
“Wait,” Cam orders. “Scroll back up.”
He does, and the moment I see what Cam did, my stomach drops. For Laiken and Mali’s eighteenth birthday, they both snuck off to get tattoos. Laiken’s is the one that’s hidden along her spine, only visible when she’s undressed or in a bikini. But Mali’s wraps around her side. It’s much more obvious.
“That one,” I say, pointing to it.
The video starts to play, showing Mali’s bedroom. It’s empty at the beginning and then she walks in. She closes her door and stretches her neck to each side. She grabs some clothes out of her closet and lays them out on her bed before leaving the room, but when the camera angle switches to the bathroom, my jaw locks.
“This fucker has her whole place bugged,” I mutter.
