3. Chapter 3
Chapter 3
I don’t go looking for trouble, but it usually finds me.
Berlin tried not to stare too hard as Chance sat at her little kitchen island. He ran a hand over his damp, dark hair as she pulled the steaming teapot off the stovetop. And she absolutely didn’t appreciate the way his forearm muscles and biceps flexed with the movement. Nope . Not one bit.
He was rough around the edges, with a couple visible scars: one under his right ear down under his collar line and another along his left jawline. He also had top security clearance—or at least it was still active and set to expire.
She’d known it was a risk bringing him here, letting him into her life instead of treating him like a client of Redemption Harbor Security.
But he wasn’t a client. He was her friend, even if he still didn’t know her real name. They’d been gaming together for years and he’d told her a lot about himself that had turned out to be true once she’d looked into the real him.
“Thank you for letting me clean up and for the clothes.” He motioned to the T-shirt and jogging pants that belonged to one of the guys she worked with.
Everyone had helped her move into her little house weeks ago, and after drinking way too much, everyone had crashed here. She had no idea whose clothes they were, but that weekend had been the best. It had been so nice to have everyone here, to…not feel so alone. She shook off those thoughts as she smiled. “No problem.” She pushed a mug of chamomile tea toward him.
He eyed it curiously. “I’m not really a tea drinker.”
“Just try it. It’s good for you.” She poured herself a cup of peppermint before setting the pot back on the stove.
“Oh…it really is good.” He looked surprised, and the little smile he gave her… She should not be noticing his lopsided smile. “Thank you. What is it?”
“Chamomile with a little honey.”
Sitting back in the high-top chair, he shoved out a breath before taking another sip. “I have a lot of questions.”
“So do I.” She leaned against the countertop by her sink, directly across from him. She was glad he was sitting down, though he was still taller than her, given the high-top chair. And the fact that she hadn’t been blessed in the height department.
He blinked again. “ You do?”
“Of course. And I already told you what I was doing. I looked you up because I was worried about you. And maybe I should apologize for invading your privacy, but I wouldn’t be sincere.”
He blinked again and oh god, he was so adorable. In a rough, edgy way. He was only twenty-eight, but he looked older, his dark eyes filled with too much knowledge of the world.
“I found out that you just moved to New Orleans a month ago, but you’re renting a place through Airbnb and didn’t sell your place back home. So you’re here for a reason. And you’ve been hanging out with gross bikers, even though you don’t seem to fit in with them. So I figure you need help.”
“And you want to help me?”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“Why not?” she shot back. They’d been online friends for years. That was a good enough reason for her.
His expression was faintly mistrustful. “Ah…do you go around helping random people?”
“All the time.” It was part of her job.
He took a sip of his tea and broke eye contact as he looked around her kitchen.
If it had been up to her, her stuff would still be in boxes, but her friends had unpacked everything, hung up pictures, organized her kitchen, and even put together her furniture. She was so used to taking care of herself and her sisters, to always being the one in charge, that it had been surprising to have people get everything done without her having to ask.
“My brother is missing,” he said into the quiet.
That got her attention. “Enzo?”
“You really did look into me,” he murmured, clear mistrust in his dark eyes. Which, that was fair. She’d hacked his life. “And I don’t actually know your name.” He straightened as he faced her again.
“Berlin.”
His eyes narrowed. “Berlin?”
“Like the city. Yep.”
“I like it.” He sighed again, but didn’t break eye contact. She got the feeling he didn’t believe her, but he continued. “My brother recently moved to New Orleans, got involved with some bikers and then fell off the radar. The last time we talked it sounded like he was going to be moving some product for them.”
“Drugs?”
“I don’t think so. He hates drugs. Maybe weapons, which I know isn’t any better, but I can’t see him running cocaine or whatever.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Either way, ‘product’ isn’t a good thing.” He pushed up from his chair, reminding her just how tall he was. “Look, I appreciate you saving my ass back there, but there’s no sense in you getting involved in this.”
“Sit back down,” she murmured, and to her surprise he did. Then she pulled out her phone and scrolled through to her favorite food app. “I’m going to order takeout and you’re going to keep talking about your brother.”
“So you’re just as bossy in real life as in VR?” he asked, but didn’t make a move to get up again. The rumble of his deep voice was dark and delicious, sending a shiver down her spine.
“I get shit done.”
He gave her a half smile that did annoying things to her insides, so she glanced back at her phone. “Burger and fries okay?”
“Always. No pickles though.”
She handed her phone to him so he could add anything else he wanted and used the moment to push for more information. “So your brother was in town and fell off the radar? Is that normal for him?”
“No…not really. He fell in with a not-so-great crowd while I was overseas.” Another sigh as he slid her phone back to her. “Maybe I shouldn’t have reenlisted, but I needed it.”
“You have an impressive record.” She completed the order, set her phone down.
“You hacked my military records too?” He was barely moving now as he watched her.
She felt her cheeks warm up. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything. “No comment.” Though she hadn’t been able to pull up everything. Too much had been redacted so she’d decided not to push.
“That’s… You shouldn’t be able to pull up my records.”
She simply shrugged.
Which made him frown, but at least he continued. “We’re going to go back to that, for the record. But yeah, I’m in town looking for my brother. You’re right about that. And I didn’t sell my place back home but…I’m thinking about it. Not that any of that matters now.” He rubbed a hand over his now mostly dry hair.
“Can you give me details about when your brother went missing and exactly who he was working with? His phone number? Any burner phones?”
“You don’t need to help with this.”
“I know. I want to. I’ve got sisters and I’d do anything to protect them. He’s your younger brother. I get it.” And she knew that he’d lost his sister when he was seventeen. This had to be killing him.
“And you’re just…helping for no reason?” Skepticism laced his deep voice.
“You might not consider me a friend, but I’ve had a lot of fun online with you the last couple years.” She shrugged and was pretty sure the action did not come off as smooth as she’d hoped. But whatever, it was the truth. Once her sisters had all moved out, she’d been alone for the first time in years and it had been jarring. Having people online to game with had been a lifeline, and her connection with him had been authentic.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“I know. But according to one of my friends, it’s in my nature to help. Like a compulsion. So, are you going to go after these guys you clearly think had something to do with your brother’s disappearance alone, or do you want the help of a badass hacker? Because I erased the camera recording of the pawn shop across the street from the biker club. It caught you breaking in from a weird angle. You had your balaclava on, but you might not always catch everything. I’m a good ally.”
“A bossy ally,” he muttered, but he wasn’t arguing now
“Most definitely.” She was the oldest of her sisters; it was part of who she was. When he didn’t say anything else, she pushed. “Look, lay out what you’ve got and I’ll see what I can find. It certainly can’t hurt to have an extra set of eyes, and if you want to find your brother, I can be an asset. If I can’t find anything, you’ve lost nothing.”
He was silent for a long moment, watching her, but she saw the moment when he decided to trust her. At least temporarily. Then he nodded. “Okay. And thank you.”
***
Chance tried not to stare too hard as Berlin did something with the information he’d given her on his brother. Just Enzo’s haunts and known phone numbers. Not much, but hopefully she could do something with it.
Her fingers flew across her keyboard as she worked, then suddenly she stretched and nudged it away from her on the countertop.
They’d eaten mostly in silence, but it hadn’t been awkward. At least not to him. It still felt surreal to be sitting in the kitchen of Moonlighter, a person he’d been gaming with for years. Competing with, to be more accurate. She still hadn’t told him how she’d figured out who he was, but maybe he’d convince her to explain it later. If he was ever going to trust her, he had to know how she’d figured out who he was in real life.
“I’m running his face through some software programs that won’t alert anyone but me if I get a hit. And the phone numbers are a dead end. At least for now. His phones are all off. So either he’s destroyed them, ditched them, or simply taken out the batteries. If that’s the case and he turns any one of them back on, I’ll know. How did he end up working with the Uptown Street Kings?”
There was another option—someone had killed his brother and destroyed his phones. But Chance filed that away in the back of his mind, willing himself not to go down that road. Enzo was his only living family left.
As Berlin watched him, he resisted the urge to shift under her direct gaze. As a rule, people didn’t intimidate him. Not after having the most sadistic drill sergeant and then later, sixty-three weeks of Green Beret training. That shit had been beaten out of him. But something about her made him want to tell her all his secrets. And that was dangerous.
If she was going to help him, he could stick to the basics, nothing more. Wasn’t like any of this was a secret. “When I was younger, as in sixteen, I ran with a bad crew. We were involved with…petty stuff. And I was often a driver.” Sometimes more. But he didn’t want her to look at him with disgust so he tried to keep it as vague as possible. “My brother knew a lot of my old crew because he was always around. When I got shipped out he ended up running with them.”
One of Chance’s biggest regrets. He was five years older than Enzo and should have been there to look out for him. Or hell, should have just not run with that crew at all. But that had been a lifetime ago and they’d needed the money for his sister’s doctor and hospital visits. But he didn’t even recognize that kid he’d been.
“That’s not on you.”
He lifted a shoulder. It was easy to say it, but the reality was he did take responsibility for his role in getting Enzo tangled up with this gang. He’d never worked with them directly, but the people he’d grown up with had, and in his absence they’d given Enzo the push to start running shit for them.
“Is there any chance they’ll suspect you of breaking into their place? Also…did you find anything good during your break-in?”
He’d been wondering if she’d ask about that. At this point, he was going to trust her. Ish. He still wasn’t sure if she was who she said she was, but he was going on instinct. He pulled out the USB drive and slid it over to her. “I copied almost everything from their computer, but I’m sure some or most of it’s encrypted.”
She gave him one of those smug looks again as she took it, then disappeared into the back of the house. Moments later she walked out with another laptop. “I’ve got a program to isolate potential threats from outside sources on both laptops, but this one is better equipped,” she explained as she plugged the USB in. “Also, since someone saw you running away, were you wearing clothing that can be traced back to you?”
“No, I grabbed stuff from a thrift store over in Baton Rouge. The style is nothing that I’ve ever worn in front of them before.” He’d wanted to make sure he went far enough away that he wouldn’t run into anyone he knew and he’d bought clothing that didn’t look like “him.” He had more than enough training on how to evade and blend in and that included covering his tracks. “Even the balaclava is from an army-navy store. Not something I owned.”
“So why’d you leave the army?” she asked, apparently using that as a segue.
“You tell me.”
She glanced up from the second laptop. “I honestly don’t know. I pushed a little on your records, but your clearance was too high to mess with. Don’t get me wrong,” she added, in a slightly haughty tone his dick liked way too much, “I could have pushed harder, but there was no sense in opening myself up to being caught just because I was curious. Besides, your clearance told me a lot all by itself. Given your age, and the fact that you sort of ‘disappeared’ for lack of a better word for a little over a year after three years in the army, I’m guessing you’re a Green Beret. Because that training is a rough sixty-three weeks. You’ve got no social media, and from what I can tell, your online gaming persona isn’t linked to anything else.”
She wasn’t wrong, and he really wanted to know how the hell she’d found him. She could be working for someone he’d helped take out years ago, but if she was, then she was running a long con. Or maybe…she wasn’t Moonlighter at all. Maybe this was someone else who’d taken over the Moonlighter persona and killed the real one. He kept his expression neutral as she continued.
“You have long spans where you were basically off the grid—no cell phone usage, no debit card purchases, nothing, but also no travel records—so I’m guessing you were off on various missions. How close am I?”
He just lifted a shoulder, refusing to commit to anything, but that just made her smile. And he really hated how much he liked her cheeky smile. She was still wearing the all black, skintight outfit that did everything for her curvy figure, but she’d pulled her long hair back into a high bun and all it did was show off her long, elegant neck he imagined kissing…and Jesus, when did he think in those terms?
She simply sniffed at his response, then dove back into her laptop. Again, he tried not to stare, but she was gorgeous, and the way she bit her bottom lip as she worked… Nope . He stood, moving away from the countertop as she worked. He casually walked around her living room, looking at her things.
If she was running a con, it was a good one. There were a lot of pictures of her with men and women, including some attractive men. He wasn’t sure why he cared. For all he knew, she was gay and it was a moot point anyway. Hell, it was a moot point because nothing was going to happen with her.
Nothing.
“They’ve got surprisingly good encryption. I’m running a couple programs, but it’ll be a few hours until I know anything. So you said you were going to be out of town… When do they think you’re coming back?”
“Tonight or tomorrow. I was vague about it.” He hadn’t wanted to sound like he was sticking to a script.
“Do you feel safe going home?”
He blinked at the question, unable to remember the last time anyone had worried about him. How about never? He was a big guy, and had the best training in the world. “I’ll be good.” He tried to keep the amusement out of his voice.
She shrugged. “Okay, well, I’ll let you know what I find.”
Clearly she was telling him it was time to go. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “How do I get in contact with you?”
She pulled out her cell phone—with a cover that had pink coffins, vampire mouths, and little red and pink bats all over it. “Just texted you.”
He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and nodded. He couldn’t even be surprised that she had his cell number, not when she already knew so much about him. “I’ll talk to you later, then.” And he was definitely going to dig into her as soon as he got back to his rental, to see if she was who she said. He had a name and an address. Not much, but it was something to go on.
“Do you need a ride or anything?” she asked suddenly, clearly just remembering that she’d brought him here.
He shook his head as he pulled up an app. “Nah, I’m good. There’s a car about five minutes from here.”
Shoving her hands in her pockets, she nodded at him and he had the strangest urge to stay. Hell, he could just leave now and never look back, but his gut told him that he’d regret it. Even if she ended up being trouble, he had a feeling he wanted her brand of it.