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“Stop it!” I berate myself. I need to stop doing this. No matter how many times I tell myself I’m over them, I still continue to tear down any news article that paints them in a bad light. Crue doesn’t really garner much bad attention but Saint, that is a whole other issue. He’s been spotted with numerous different women and it fucking stings each time I see it. And yet, I still hack the news sites and remove the articles anyway. Fuck it, I open the app and go to Crue’s profile instead of Saint’s only to find it has been removed. Frowning I go to Saint’s, and the same thing pops up. Why the hell did they remove their accounts?
My phone finally pings with a reply from Jackson.
Jackson
Look, Katie, I’m not looking for anything long-term right now. I’m sorry but I don’t think it’s a good idea.
I stare at the message and reread it several times. I fucking knew something was up with him and this just confirms it. Jackson seeing Saint and Crue clearly spooked him, shit. I scroll my contacts until I find the PI’s number and hit dial.
He answers on the fifth ring. “Katie.”
“I know I told you to lay low for now but I’m running out of options here, my lead is gone,” I admit bitterly.
“I have nothing new to go on, this guy has the money and resources to hide, and without a trail to go on I’m not much help. Have you thought about just going to court?”
“I can’t. It’s a closed adoption and the agency won’t help me. Nothing will stand up in court because I signed away my rights.” I swallow past the lump in my throat and close my eyes, willing my tears to remain at bay.
“I’m sorry, Katie, without a lead, I’m not much help and I don’t want to keep taking your money when it’s wasted without a lead.” I thank him and end the call, regret the emotion that is burning strongest inside me right now.
I made the worst decision of my life and now I’m fucking scared I’ve failed my little girl. I may never get to hold her again, kiss her button nose or brush her blonde hair.
“Fuck this,” I snarl. I rush around the store and close up an hour early, if Trent—the owner—asks, I’ll just tell him I was sick. I need to see Jackson and do this now. I need those passcodes.
* * *
Walking through the front door of his office I garner the attention of most of the workers. I’ve noticed since I changed my hair color, got a tattoo and stopped smiling all the fucking time that I get judgment from all angles and honestly, I don’t give two fucks what anyone thinks of me.
“Miss?” I ignore the women at the front desk as I stroll down the corridor where I know Jackson’s office is. “Miss, you can’t go back there,” she exclaims. I shoot her the bird over my shoulder as I shove Jackson’s office door open. His gaze snaps to mine immediately as he holds the phone to his ear, he frowns at the sight of me.
“Uh, Jake, I’m gonna have to call you back,” he says as he ends the call. The woman who was shouting at me steps up beside me, shooting me a glare.
“I’m so sorry, I tried to stop her—-” Jackson raises his hand stopping the woman’s rambling.
“It’s fine, Tessa.” The woman huffs and heads out, closing the door behind herself. Jackson leans back in his chair steepling his hands. He looks like an ignorant prick but I keep my features clear of my disdain for him. “What can I do for you, Katie?” He sounds like a smug prick. How Crue can be related to such a piece of shit I’ll never know.
I force myself to smile and act the part of a distraught female who just got her feelings crushed. “I’m just shocked. I thought we had a good time and then… Now you don’t want to see me?” I make sure my voice hitches so he thinks I’m on the verge of tears.
“It’s a conflict of interest, even going out with you last week I risked my job.” I grit my teeth and school my features. This motherfucker only went out to dinner with me in the hopes of getting his dick wet and then ditching me.
This fucker needs a swift kick in the dick.
“I-I thought we had a connection.” My bottom lip wobbles, he softens at the sight of it. I mentally high-five myself. He opens his mouth to speak but his office phone rings, sighing he picks up.
“Yes?” he answers, he frowns then nods. “Coming,” he says before hanging up and standing. He grabs his suit jacket from the back of his chair and shrugs it on. Fuck, he’s going to ask me to leave. “Wait here, I’ll be back shortly.” I manage to keep the surprised look off my face and smile and nod like a good doe-eyed obedient girl. I spy his phone on his desk and pray he doesn’t take it with him. From the way his eyes blaze I can tell he’s the type of prick that likes his woman to be seen and not heard, you know the type. “Take a seat.” Smiling my thanks, I do as he says, and the moment the door clicks shut behind him, I fist pump the air and quickly pull my laptop from my bag and the cable I’ll need. I plugged the cord into his phone and managed to break through his password in seconds and start the cloning process.
I watch the loading circle spin for what feels like hours but is mere seconds before the cloning process starts. I have no idea how long he’ll be gone. I tap my foot nervously against the ground as I wait for the data to upload onto my MacBook. I’m taking a huge risk here, if he was to walk in and catch me I have no way to explain what I’m doing. I was supposed to swipe his phone at dinner and do this at home, then drop it to him at work acting like I grabbed his phone by mistake. It’s at 90% when I hear voices in the corridor, panic wells inside me. If I stop it now all the data will be wiped and I’ll be back to square one!
Fuck!
I hear him right outside the door chatting to someone, it’s at 96% now. I want to chew on my nail I’m that fucking nervous. The door handle rattles and I still, I’m busted.
“Jackson, hang on a second,” someone calls out. Thank you, Jesus! 100%. I quickly disconnect his phone and place it back where I found it and shove my laptop back in my bag just as the door opens. He heads straight for his desk, grabs his phone then shoots me a disapproving look. Oh my God, he knows and is going to call the cops.
“I have to head into a meeting. I’ll need to continue this conversation later.” I nod and smile nervously as I stand on wobbly legs.
“Yeah, o-of course,” I stutter, earning a frown from him.
“I’ll call you.” I want to snort, could he not have come up with a better line?
