Chapter 24 Cade
CADE
Wylder calls an urgent meeting. His voice rings out over the intercom because he knows I don’t have my phone with me. Really, I don’t trust myself with it.
I do nothing in response to the announcement, just continue bouncing the tennis ball I liberated from the sports shed against the wall of the panic room while listening to nineties songs on my Walkman.
That’s right. I’m in the panic room. Not because there’s any danger.
Because I’m the danger.
Right now, I’m so fucking unhinged there’s no telling what I’ll do. I don’t have much of my sanity remaining, but the little I do have made me sequester myself in here. I even got Samson to change the code so I can’t let myself out.
Because if I do, I’ll go right back to Ansel’s place. I’ll camp out there until he gives me another fucking chance, or at least tells me what I did wrong.
I’m torn between doing the selfish thing and the selfless. Selfishly, I want to pin Ansel down until he’s ready to talk.
Selflessly, I know I need to stay away. Like he’s asked me to. Repeatedly.
He even screamed it.
I should’ve known Ansel would be my undoing. I’ve never been able to say no to him.
Then again, I didn’t think he’d ever leave me. I thought what we had was real. Unconventional? A little unhealthy? Sure.
But it was fucking real. That’s what I believed.
Guess I was wrong about lots of things.
I want to respect what Ansel’s asked, but let’s be honest, my willpower to stay away from him is about as strong as an umbrella in a hurricane.
Hence the panic room.
So, unless Wylder’s summoning me to tell me Ansel is ready to listen, I don’t give a shit. It’s not like I can leave here without someone letting me out, anyway.
Like I’ve summoned them, there’s a beeping noise telling me someone is opening the door. Fucking great.
I don’t bother to look at who’s entered, just continue bouncing the ball. “I’m not leaving.”
The metal headphones are yanked off my head, and one of the padded ear cushions comes loose, drifting to the floor.
“What the fuck is this? Why did you resurrect an old Walkman?” Samson asks.
“I like to reminisce about the good old days.”
He kicks at my leg—not as hard as he could, but enough that it stings.
“Fuck off,” I murmur.
“No. You need to come with me. You don’t have a choice.”
“No.”
“Don’t make me pick you up.”
Samson really is the most fun to be around when I’m in this mood. By which I mean, he’s the fastest to resort to violence. “Think you’re going to make me?”
“Not alone.”
There’s a shuffling sound of feet as more people join us. I wearily turn my head to see Samson, Matthias, Harley, and Dalton. “Aw, I’m touched that you realize it’ll take that many of you to get me to move.”
Matthias is rolling up his shirtsleeves while Dalton and Harley fan out. They’re covering the edges of the room, stopping me from being able to dart past. Samson doesn’t move, just smirks at me, ready for whatever tantrum I’m going to throw.
Sometimes it really fucking sucks to know how well my brothers have been trained. There’s no way I’m getting out of this.
Doesn’t mean I’m going without a fight though. I’ve got a lot of pent-up anger, and lookie here—four men just waiting for me to beat on them a little.
I should thank them, really.
“Wylder should’ve just come down here,” I drawl. “He’s the only one missing.”
“You’ll understand why when you join us upstairs,” Dalton says in clipped tones. His fingers are twitching, preparing to pounce. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, asshole.”
I give him a lopsided smirk. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”
He returns the smirk, but there’s a tinge of pity there. “Yeah, figured you’d deal with heartbreak in the most dramatic way possible.”
My smirk shifts into a glare. “Maybe one day you’ll be in this position. You won’t be smirking then.”
“Doubtful,” Dalton snorts. “It’s why you hold everyone at arm’s length. You can’t be hurt if you don’t let anyone close. Maybe you’ll know better in the future.”
My fingers tighten around the ball, denting the shape. It won’t be an issue in the future because there won’t be anyone else.
For me, it’s Ansel or no one.
Despite what’s happened, I refuse to accept that it’s over. He just needs some space. I can give him that.
So long as I stay in this panic room while it’s locked from the other side.
“Come on,” Matthias sighs. “Just come upstairs.”
I don’t stand up. Not yet. I let Harley draw nearer. As the youngest of us, he’s the least experienced.
Right now, I’m about to use that lack of experience as a teaching moment. I’m nice like that.
When he’s within reach, my hand snaps out and snatches his ankle.
Harley crashes to the floor as I haul it from under him.
I’m at his throat in an instant, my hand lightly squeezing his windpipe.
“Never sneak up on your opponent unless you’re certain you can overpower them, baby bro.
I thought I trained you better than that. ”
I barely get the last word out as a hand crushes my own throat. “And never turn your back on your opponent, Cade. I know I trained you better than that.”
Samson’s voice is as rough as the calluses abrading my skin. I throw back an elbow, but another hand catches it.
I’m yanked to my feet, kicking and thrashing all the way. Samson doesn’t let up his grip on my throat, pinning me against his chest while Dalton and Matthias have my arms.
Fuckers. They’ll all pay for this.
“Cade.” Harley takes a couple of kicks as he pushes close to me. Idiot. What the fuck is he thinking, approaching a vicious, angry animal like this?
But suddenly he grabs my face in his hands, wincing as I catch his knee. “Cade, stop. It’s Ansel. We’re meeting about Ansel.”
The fight drains away in an instant. “What?”
“It’s about Ansel,” Harley repeats steadily. “We thought you’d want to be there.”
“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?” I explode, shaking off my brothers. They must know where I’m going to go because they release me. I turn to glare at them. “Are you fucking crazy? You had to know I’d listen if you told me what it’s about.”
Samson smirks while Dalton winks at me. “Well, where would be the fun in that?”
I’m already striding for the door. “Cunts. The lot of you. I’ll get you back for this later. Except you, Harley. You’re in my good books.”
“As I should be,” Harley responds sassily, appearing beside me. “I’m the best of us.”
A small bickering match breaks out among the rest of them, but I tune it out. I’m too busy wondering what’s wrong with Ansel. Has he turned up? Is he in danger?
I take the stairs two at a time, arriving in Wylder’s office a good thirty seconds before the others. “What’s wrong with Ansel?”
An arch appears in one of Wylder’s brows. “Nothing, as far as I’m aware.”
“Harley said this meeting is about him.”
My other brothers file in behind me, taking seats around the table.
“It is about him,” Wylder says heavily. “But not because he’s in trouble. Not yet, anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
Wylder tosses a manila file in my direction. “I mean that your little butterfly appears to be causing trouble for us.”
A numb feeling starts in my feet. It spreads up my legs as I reach for the file. Bile fills my throat at the thought of what I might see.
But when I open it, it’s just endless lines of code.
“I don’t understand,” I say slowly. “What am I looking at?”
Matthias gestures for the file. I hand it to him wordlessly. He examines it before shrugging and shoving it over to the other side of the table. Dalton and Harley appear just as clueless as us. Only Samson doesn’t bother to look, watching me closely.
It’s then that I realize he knows what’s going on, and that, whatever it is, he’s not expecting me to react well.
My body braces itself, preparing for the inevitable impact that’s coming.
Wylder finally answers my question. “We were alerted by our external security company an hour ago and sent this report. What you’re looking at is evidence that someone is hacking our systems. Notably, any and all connected to The Firm.
Past missions. Connections. Bribes. Anything we’ve ever documented, going back a generation, has been accessed. ”
“It’s not Ansel,” I say automatically. The numbness is spreading further. I can’t feel anything now. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“Ansel has a reputation as the most proficient hacker in the industry,” Samson says curtly, nodding at Wylder, who throws another file in my direction. “I started looking into him the day we returned from the cabin.”
I bare my teeth at Samson. “You had no fucking right to do that.”
Samson shrugs. “One of us had to keep their wits about them. You were being led by your dick. We just needed to know what the end goal was. Which, evidently, was to use you to get information about The Firm.”
I’m over the table in a flash. Samson and I collide with a bookcase, the contents raining down around us.
I pay no attention to the hits I’m taking. I’m too busy pulling back my fist and letting it smash into Samson’s face.
Far too soon, strong hands are yanking me off him.
“You don’t fucking talk about him like that,” I yell, spittle flying everywhere. “Ansel loves me. He fucking loves me. He wasn’t using me.”
But those words ring false. He doesn’t love me, does he? He never said it back.
Samson isn’t angry as he wipes the blood away with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, Cade, I am. But the evidence suggests otherwise.”
“The evidence is bullshit,” I roar, wheeling on my brothers, my voice cracking when I wheeze, “You’re wrong.”
“We’re not.” Pity shines in Wylder’s eyes. “Ansel is hacking our information.”
“It’s just lines of fucking data. There’s no proof that it’s Ansel.”
“We have one of the most sophisticated systems available,” Wylder says delicately. “It’s near impossible to break into.”
“Neo did, remember? With the cameras?” It might sound like I’m grasping at straws, but I’m not.
I know this isn’t Ansel’s work. My butterfly might’ve broken my heart, but he wouldn’t betray us. I’m more sure of that than my own name.
“He only hacked our house cameras, which isn’t difficult because they run on Wi-Fi.” Wylder’s mouth is in a grim line. “The security surrounding this encrypted information is different, though. Near impenetrable.”
Vindication flashes through me. “Then it’s not him. He wouldn’t be living in that shithole if he were any good at it.”
Samson shifts slightly out of my reach before he speaks. “Actually, the word on the street is that there’s little Ansel can’t hack. Seems he’s something of an ethical one—he doesn’t take money for himself, just modest payment for the job.”
There’s a rock in my stomach. It’s flaming hot, burning a hole right through me. “See, you said it yourself, he’s ethical. He wouldn’t do this.”
“Cade…” There’s a gentle touch on my shoulder.
I glance around to see Wylder beside me.
He’s looking at me with an emotion I’ve only seen on his face once before—the day our mother died.
The day I knew it would all change and never be okay again.
“The IP address the hack is coming from has been confirmed as Ansel’s address.
He’s not even trying to hide it. He wants you to know. ”
I don’t hear anything else, just the sound of my heart breaking further. I don’t feel Wylder’s touch, just the floor beneath my knees.
It can’t be true. It can’t be.
My butterfly wouldn’t do this.
Would he?