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“Scoot!” If her tone isn’t enough to make me move, her digging the barrel of her gun into my skull does the trick. “Sit,” she orders when I go around the desk.
I do as she says, plopping my ass down in the chair. That’s when I get a glimpse of what she’s holding. “You’ve got to be kidding me. A stapler? You threatened me with a freaking stapler?”
“You’d be surprised what I can do with this. And don’t cuss.”
“Freaking isn’t a cuss word. Fucking is.” I cross my arms over my chest and huff. “Of course you wouldn’t threaten me for real. Giddy needs me alive.”
“Kid, you keep calling him that and heisgoing to want you dead.” She leans against the desk and scrutinizes me. I scrutinize her back.
Her hair is dripping water onto her shirt and she’s got a towel wrapped around her waist, as if she ran out of the shower in a hurry and didn’t have time to put pants on. She’s tapping her foot in that way Daddy used to do when I’d get in trouble and he couldn’t figure out what to do with me.
“How the hell did you get into my computer anyway?” she asks.
I shrug. “I’m a genius.”
Smirking, she says, “What you are is a handful.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Where did you learn to hack?”
“The internet.” It’s amazing the things you can learn by doing a simple search.
Scarlet shakes her head. “What were you looking for? Maisie?” she prompts when it takes me too long to answer.
“I don’t know. Anything that will help Skye and me,” I admit.
“The only thing that will help you two is your sister getting the location on Clive Maxton.”
Suddenly, the helplessness of my situation hits me like a pile of bricks to the chest. I turn away from her before she can see the tears that prick at my eyes. I hate it when people see me weep.
“Ah, shit. Are you crying?”
“No,” I sob.
“Don’t cry.” She pats my head and I glare at her. “Sorry. I’m not good at comforting and I really would rather you stopped. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“I just…” I wipe my cheeks. “I don’t want to just sit here and literally wait to be rescued. I’m powerless!”
Sighing, Scarlet rubs her temples. Then she goes around her desk and, from a bottom drawer, produces a Chromebook. Setting it down, she pushes it toward me.
I take it. “What’s this for?”
“It’s obvious you’re good with computers. See if you can come up with something on Clive or Arran Maxton. Something we haven’t thought of.”
My brows shoot upward in surprise. “Are you serious?”
Nodding, she says, “You need something to keep you busy. And you’re not powerless, Maisie. If you were, Gideon wouldn’t have left you with me.”
I bite back a proud smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
She makes to leave, but I stop her. “Scarlet.”
Pausing at the door, she looks over her shoulder at me. “Yeah?”
“That family in the article… Was that your family?”
