Love and Wargames: A Bad Boy Hacker Romance (23 page)

Chapter 21

Boxcar

Las Vegas

Two Years Ago

Well, that was unexpected.

Who am I kidding? This is Caleb Fawn. This wasn’t
unexpected
at all. It was downright
inevitable.
I’m not sure why I thought exchanging vows would somehow mean she was ready for commitment. It’s more surprising that it lasted a whole three days before she booted me out of our hotel room.

But we’re
married
now, so I’m gone but not out. If she needs some time to vent and think, then I’ll give her that time. I don’t mind that at all but eventually, she’ll open her door to me and things will go back to normal until her next attack of conscience. Hopefully, if I’m lucky, these bursts of frustration will happen less and less until they disappear completely.

I’ll keep my patience until then. She’s worth it.

Until then, I’ll hang out in this hotel room a floor down from hers and wait it out. She’ll come down here, knock on the door, and she’ll smile. I’ll kiss her, she’ll kiss me back, and I’ll carry her to the bed for a bit of tender punishment. If there’s one thing I know better than myself in this world, it’s Caleb Fawn.

A knock strikes the door and a grin spreads over my face.

See? I told you.

I open the door and pause, looking into the eyes of a pudgy, middle-aged man in a suit.

“Bartholomew Carson?”

“Yeah,” I answer.

He holds out a brown envelope. “You’ve been served.”

I let him drop it into my hand and a cold shiver races down my back. Just as quickly as he arrived, he spins around and bolts down the hall towards the elevator without even a glance back over his shoulder. A straight-up fucking hit and run.

I close the door and stare at the envelope for a full minute before opening it and sliding the pages out.

PETITION FOR DIVORCE.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

She did it. She actually freakin’ did it. When she told me she never wanted to see my face again, she meant it in every possible way.

This is a joke. It has to be a sick prank. Ha-ha, Caleb. Very funny…

I scan the pages one-by-one, feeling even more nauseous the more I read. She’s signed them already. Her name in black ink right here.
Caleb Fawn.
All they need now is my signature and the best thing that ever happened to me will be like it never happened at all.

Fuck that shit.

I slide the papers back into the envelope and grab my messenger bag off the floor. If she wants to split up for a while —
fine
— but I won’t give her the satisfaction of filing these forms and dropping me for good. She can’t do that if I never send them back to her and she can’t force me to give them to her if she doesn’t know where I am.

You don’t want to see my face ever again? I’ll make that easy for you, Caleb Fawn.

I open the back pocket of my bag and I slide the envelope inside, zipping it tightly closed to hold them there.

Sorry, honey.
No divorce today. Looks like you’re stuck with me.

My finger slides over a notepad inside the bag and I pause before pulling it out. I sketched it from memory the best I could; that black cobra I saw inked into the chests of those men. The same snake I saw dangling from that pendant around Marilyn Black’s neck. Her mysterious family. Their nonexistent land in Paris. Even the military and this fucking Paxton guy. There’s a bigger picture here but I don’t have enough pieces to put the puzzle together or make any sense out of it.

My curiosity grows.

I put my jacket on and throw my bag over my shoulder as I leave Las Vegas for good.

Chapter 22

Boxcar

Los Angeles

Present Day

Did Robin Hood ever take an arrow for Maid Marian? I honestly can’t remember.

One thing’s for sure, though; being a hero isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. Everyone knows getting shot hurts so I knew what to expect but what I never expected was for there to be so much pain from such a tiny graze.

The blast slid across my back, scratching my shoulder in multiple places. If I’d been one second too late… Let’s not think about it.

A handful of stitches and the intern who did the needlework was done but my concern was on Caleb the entire time. The doctor who checked her out had no idea what Elijah injected her with. Some kind of homemade tranquillizer, incredibly potent and not exactly legal. Given the rate it’s leaving her system, he thinks she’ll be fine after a good night’s rest in her own bed.

I carry her up the stairs to her loft, ignoring the throbbing pain in my back. There aren’t a lot of moments in life when I get to play the cool guy and I’m not passing up the chance to carry the damsel over the threshold.

Caleb reaches out and twists the doorknob for me. The loft is exactly as it was before; a perfect constant to an otherwise chaotic day. I carry her inside and she squeezes my jacket a little tighter as I lower her down onto her bed, no doubt scared I’ll drop her but there’s no way I would.

“Try and get some rest, okay?” I tell her, laying her arms at her sides. “You should have your strength back by morning.”

“Are you leaving?” she asks quickly. Her eyes shake. It’s clear what she wants the answer to be and it makes my heart grow a little larger.

“No.” I pause to watch the short breath of relief as it passes through her. “I’ll be here…”

Caleb shifts onto her side and her hand falls to the sheets beneath her, gently crawling towards me as fast as her weak muscles will allow. Her hand touches mine and she smiles back at me.

“It’s going to be okay, Caleb,” I whisper. I lean forward to raise her head and adjust the pillow to a better position beneath her neck. “I’ll be back.”

She nods, trusting every word. “Thank you.”

I let her touch linger on my skin for a few more moments before I make myself stand up. There’s nothing I want more than to lie next to her right now but there’s the small matter of the very disappointed bounty hunter lingering around in the hallway to deal with.

Archer stands outside the door, leaning against the wall with Lilah’s discarded pistol in one hand. He admires it briefly before glancing up at me with hard eyes and sliding it into his belt. “You didn’t tell me this
friend
of yours was
Fox Fitzpatrick
, mate,” he says.

I close the door behind me. “It wasn’t relevant.”

“Like hell it wasn’t.” He pushes softly off the wall. “Do you have any idea how much his head is worth to the right people? Had I known he was here, I certainly wouldn’t have wasted my time chasing after Hansel and Gretel.”

“He’s not a part of this,” I say, keeping a steady tone. “Leave him alone.”

“And why the hell would I do that?”

“Because I will make your life a living hell if you don’t, that’s why.”

His lips curl. “And just how do you intend—”

“Archer Allen. Former MI-6 agent,” I begin. “You were dismissed for
reasons unknown
but I’m sure I could crack those files wide open within the hour but on the off-chance that won’t do any damage to you, I’ll just focus on the very expired visa you’re traveling on U.S. soil with and go from there. Can’t exactly cash in on bounties if you’re thirty-thousand feet in the air on your way back to Teabag Land. Or if that’s not enough — just give me about twenty minutes. Everyone has a skeleton or two. I’m sure you have at least one worth digging up.”

Archer chuckles. “All right…” he sighs. “I will look the other way on Fitzpatrick — but how about we say you owe me a favor someday?”

“I can live with that.”

“But I will say this… I don’t envy your friend. It’s not just the Harts out there looking for retribution against Fox Fitzpatrick.”

“Who?”

He lowers his voice. “No one knows her name. Only a few know her face but everyone knows what she does.”

There’s only two words I can think of that carry that kind of ominous fear. “The Boss.”

“You might want to let him know.”

I nod. “I will.”

Archer leans back again, flashing a look of expectation. “I held up my part of the bargain. Now, where can I find Dante Hart?”

I reach into my bag for a notepad. “Wisconsin,” I answer.

His brow shrinks. “What?”

“His childhood home is on Geneva Lake.” I scribble the address down from memory and tear off the sheet to hand it to him.

Archer takes it from me and stares at it for a moment. “I have to ask — how do you know this?”

I crack a smile, smug as hell. “Library card.” He stares at me with confusion. “The Walworth County Library burned down in 1992,” I explain. “Only about half of the physical records were salvaged and transferred to the library the next county over — including the membership information of their grandmother, Mary Elizabeth Hart.”

He blinks. “Bloody hell…”

“The card was never officially used but her name still pops up in their member database, along with their home address. Geneva Lake, Wisconsin. Given the trouble Dante and the twins went to erase the place from record, I’d say he’s probably there now.”

Archer folds the paper in half and shoves it into his jacket pocket. “Well, I’m impressed, Sparky,” he says. “You’d make quite the private dick, if you wanted to.”

“Thought about it,” I say, “but I look stupid in hats.”

He laughs and pulls out his wallet. “Still… you ever find yourself looking for a job in hunting — give me a call.” His fingers flick towards me, squeezing a black business card between his fingertips.

I take it from him and slide it into my bag. “Maybe I will.”

His grin stays on his face as he turns to take the stairs down. “Be seeing you, mate.”

“Be seeing you,” I repeat, watching him closely until his shadow disappears out the door and it clicks closed behind him.

Caleb is asleep by the time I get back inside. I bolt the door behind me and slide the chain in place, feeling more than a little overprotective. Nothing lurches my heart more than seeing her this vulnerable. She’ll be back to her normal self by morning and she won’t need me anymore. She has never
needed
me, honestly, but it’s never been a goal of mine to make her either.

Want
, on the other hand. If I could figure out how to make her
want
me, then all of my problems would be solved overnight.

I set my messenger bag down on the counter and my eyes drift over to her again.

Caleb Fawn. I’ve never in my life wanted anything more than I want her. I spent days in a warehouse, praying for
water
and I can safely say I didn’t want it to rain out in the fucking desert as much as I want Caleb Fawn in my life.

But none of that matters if she doesn’t feel the same way.

I reach into my bag and slide the brown envelope out. It’s been almost two years since I stuffed it into the back pocket and swore I’d forget it ever existed, but it always lingered in the corners of my mind like an awkward growing pain.

I pull the papers out and lay them on the counter in front of me. She signed them and sent them over to me before the ink was even dry. Her signature even has a slight smear to it on every page, like she just couldn’t wait to get it over with.

I grab a pen from my bag and I sign each one. I don’t want to. I never did but I can’t force her to stay with me if she doesn’t want to be with me. I could slip out right now and spend the next two years avoiding her again. We’d still be lawfully wedded but we wouldn’t be married like I want to be.

I slide the papers back in the envelope and I leave it on the counter for her.

I told her I’d stay and I will. If tonight’s the last time I’ll get to feel her next to me then I won’t miss it. I kick off my shoes and lie down beside her. She rolls over as I do it and lays her head on my shoulder. Her hair brushes my nose. Her hand falls to my chest. Her toes swipe against mine.

A few short hours of this bliss and I’ll leave.

Hopefully, by the end of it, I’ll be strong enough to let her go.