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I had no idea what the hell he was talking about, still don’t, but we dropped the argument about saving trees and cheaper online subscriptions long before that morning. Sometimes I wonder if he still reads the newspaper like that or if he avoids the news because he knows how close some of those tragedies can strike.
I chatted with Kyla’s parents in the kitchen, feeling the love in their home and looking forward to giving my best friend her birthday gift which was practically burning a hole in my pocket. I knew she’d be excited. Hell, I was excited.
Once there were fluffy stacks of chocolatey pancakes ready to go, Kyla’s mom looked at me and grinned. “Breakfast is ready. I think you should go and wake her up. She’s less likely to yell at you.”
I shook my head at her, “Sending me to the wolves? I thought you loved me,” I pressed my hand to my chest and pouted.
With a shooing motion, she sent me off to Kyla’s room where I found my best friend sprawled across her bed like a starfish. Her blonde hair was in disarray and there might have been some drooling happening. I grinned at her and then plopped down next to her hard enough to make her jump slightly.
“Hey,” she held the word out like any movement was a personal affront to her entire life and I couldn’t help but laugh. “No, it can’t be morning,” she rasped which only made me laugh harder.
“Come on, sleepyhead. It is morning. More importantly than that it’s Saturday,” I coaxed her.
She shot up in bed and narrowed her eyes at me. I swear I knew what she was going to say before she said it. “It’s not just Saturday,” she huffed.
“Pretty sure that’s all it is,” I pointed out and gave her my sweetest smile.
If she could have shot lasers out of her eyes, she would have. “It’s my birthday,” she pointed out as if she felt sorry for me because I must have been suffering from acute onset amnesia.
I tapped my finger against my chin and looked into the distance. “Saturday and your birthday, you say?” When I looked at her again, she was giving me a look like she didn’t find me funny, but that couldn’t have been right because I was hilarious. “That must be why your mom has a mountain of chocolate chip pancakes ready to be devoured downstairs.”
Kyla jumped out of bed and cheered, “Birthday pancakes!”
The next thing I knew, she plowed into me, and I almost fell off the bed and couldn’t stop laughing. I tried to push her off me, but she was stronger and heavier than she looked. Everyone thought she was willowy, and she was, but damn she could think some really heavy thoughts when she needed to.
“Get off me or I’m not giving you your present,” I wheezed out from underneath her.
She moved so fast that I almost got an elbow to my eye and then she was giving me gimmie hands with a big smile on her face. I knew she wouldn’t stop until she had her present and I was just as excited to hand it over. When I handed her the envelope out of my back pocket, she squealed and ripped it open in less than a second.
I watched as her eyes widened while taking in the two printed tickets for one of the last dates for Suburban Outcasts’ first tour. Her eyes went from the tickets to me, the tickets to me, the tickets to me, while her mouth opened and closed.
I giggled and prompted, “Excited?”
“Hell yes,” she screamed and then tackled me again.
The concert was just a few weeks before graduation and going together was a given. Then when the day rolled around, I was sick, and she went without me. Alone.
I never saw Kyla again after that night and I have no idea what happened to her in Baltimore. I ended up using my skills to get as much camera footage as I could, but it was like she was there and then she was just…gone.
In many ways, I disappeared right along with her.
When I focus back on my screen, my mind no longer wandering through memories that feel like glass against my skin, I start transferring the funds I’ve stolen from the DSMC and a few other organizations, and I use that term loosely. I give the money to people who need it—people rescued from traffickers, organizations who fight the scum who take root in cities across the world, and those who are running from men who abuse and use them.
It’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.
But, at least for today, it’ll have to do.
CHAPTER 2
FRIAR
When my computer pings, anticipation curls in my gut. I have no idea how I know that it has to do with the fucker who has been stealing from the club, but I do. I’ve set up my system to alert me when they’re online and to sniff out as much information as I can. They’re good and while I’m not bad, they’ve been hiding and covering their ass with skill I’d be impressed by if they weren’t stealing from me, my brothers, and my club.
I owe too fucking much to the DSMC to admire whoever is behind this and the fact that I’ve been on their ass, close but not close enough, for months pisses me off. Even if it weren’t about money, which is personal enough in my book, now it’s become about my pride and my own fucking skill. I should have been able to track whoever is behind this right away.
And yet, I’m only just now getting somewhere.
When I pull up the information on the soon to be dead man’s latest hack, I’m practically fucking holding my breath to see if there’s anything useful here. My eyes almost bug out of my head when I see that they took significantly more money this time around, even though it’s far less than they could have taken all things considered.
