1. Jax #2

“Jesus.” Killian lets out a low whistle. “That’s one way to make enemies.”

“So, is he a good guy?” Felix asks. “Breaking up fake charities and giving the money to real charities sounds like something a hacktivist would do.”

“It is,” Jace agrees. “But even good guys can be dangerous if they decide you’re a bad guy. There’s evidence of other hacks in there too, and they all seem like white-hat jobs, but we need more information before I can know if he’s someone we need to deal with.”

“Do you think you’ll have an issue keeping an eye on him?” Killian asks me.

I shake my head. “Doubtful. He goes to class and hangs out in his room. That’s it. No IRL friends that I could find. He’s not part of any clubs or groups, and he doesn’t have a roommate. He’s as boring as they get, which makes him an easy mark.”

“He sounds a lot like me,” Felix muses. “Or how I used to be before you guys realized how awesome I am.” He shoots each of us a cheesy grin.

“Yeah, it only took what, nine years for you to realize that all that antagonizing you did over the years was you begging for me to put you in your place and fuck your brains out,” Killian says with a smirk.

Felix’s cheeks go ruddy, and he squirms a bit against Killian.

Jace tosses me a knowing grin.

We called this years ago but never bothered to tell Killian. We knew he’d be too stubborn to listen and decided it was best to just let them figure it out on their own.

They might have known each other since they were kids and been stepbrothers for the last five years, but they spent most of that time being dicks to each other and fighting about stupid shit because it was easier than realizing they were into each other and all that animosity was really just chemistry.

It only took multiple attempts on Felix’s life and us spending the last few months trying to unravel the murder plot so we could take down his would-be killers for them to finally see what was always there.

“Do you think he’s someone we have to worry about?” Killian asks me, bringing the conversation back to our hacker problem. “What’s your gut telling you?”

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I don’t think he’s a malicious person, and it feels like a lot of this is just him being a dumb kid who’s too smart for his own good.” I toss my brother a knowing look.

Jace grins. “Sounds familiar.”

“But at the same time,” I continue, “he’s a wildcard. I won’t know for sure until I can observe him and see what he’s hiding.”

“So I guess the plan is the same as it was before. Jace will keep digging, and you tail him and see what you can find,” Killian says. “Once we know more, we can figure out what we’re going to do.”

“Yup,” Jace says while I nod.

“We should probably get to bed,” Felix says casually. “It’s late, and I have an early class in the morning.”

“Yeah, we probably should,” Killian says, his tone far less casual than Felix’s.

I snicker. “Early class in the morning, huh?”

“They totally wanna go back to their room so they can bone,” Jace says to me.

“Oh yeah,” I agree. “And they really think they’re fooling us by pretending they have class in the morning.”

“Right?” Jace says. “It’s like they forget that we know their schedules, and last time I checked, ten a.m. isn’t exactly early morning.”

“I guess it is if they spend all night fucking,” I muse. “But that sounds more like a time management issue and not a my class is too early issue.”

“Sounds like they need a planner or something so they can schedule in all the sex they have without their other responsibilities falling by the wayside.” Jace grins at me. “A bone book, if you will.”

“No,” Felix admonishes us. “No bone books, and I’ll kick both of you in the shins if either of you even thinks of writing that on a planner and giving it to me.”

“We’re just trying to be helpful.” Jace’s expression is one of pure innocence.

“Fine.” I heave a dramatic sigh. “No bone book,” I say as Killian and Felix get up off our couch. “But don’t blame us when you realize that you’ve neglected all your real-life responsibilities because you can’t keep track of time when you’re making the beast with two backs.”

“What?” Felix asks with a laugh.

“Doing the horizontal tango, if you will,” Jace says.

“Or the dance with no pants,” I add.

“Perhaps they’re more the type to take trips to poundtown?” Jace muses.

“I can’t see them being the knocking boots type,” I tell my brother.

“No, me either,” Jace says seriously.

“Oh my god,” Felix mutters, but his smile tells us he’s enjoying the teasing.

“Ha ha ha,” Killian fake laughs and flips us off. “You’re hilarious.”

“We know,” we say in unison.

“Have a good night,” I call as they head toward our door.

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” Jace says with a salacious grin. “Among other things,” he adds and taps the side of his neck.

Felix slaps his hand over the hickeys and bite marks that Killian keeps giving him.

Killian just grins and wraps his arm around Felix’s shoulder. “No promises.”

Felix’s cheeks flush pink, but he’s grinning as Killian leads him out of our room.

“I’m so making Felix a bone book,” Jace says when we’re alone. “Do you think he’ll actually kick us in the shins?”

“Probably.”

“Why is your face like that?”

“What do you mean?” I ask. “My face is your face.”

“Then why is my face like that?” he asks.

“Like what?”

“Like someone shoved a giant stick up your ass but you’re too uptight to enjoy it.”

“It’s nothing.”

He spits his gum up into the air and catches it in his mouth. “Liar.” He drops his gaze to meet mine. “Your Spidey sense is going off.”

I nod.

“Is it about the kid? Because mine has been going nuts since we found out he’s the one we’ve been looking for.”

I nod again. “There’s more to whatever’s going on than just his part in what happened to Felix.”

“Yeah.” He presses his gum into a piece of scrap paper on his desk. “I’m getting that vibe too. There’s something going on with that kid.”

“I’m going to go for a walk.” I stand abruptly.

“You mean you’re going to check on our hacker friend and do some recon around the Boondocks,” he says with a knowing grin.

I don’t bother answering and grab my lightweight black jacket off my bed and pull it on. Jace watches, that damn grin still on his face as I gather my gear and fill my pockets with the various tools that might come in handy.

“Don’t wait up,” I tell him.

“I never do.” He spins back around so he’s facing his computer and wiggles his mouse to flash it up. “Don’t get caught.”

“I never do.”

Without another word, I slip out of our room.

Boone House is by far the most boring building on campus. Even the utility sheds have more personality.

One of the more interesting aspects of Silvercrest is how there’s no cohesive design or aesthetic on campus.

The buildings and amenities are all done in different architectural styles that reflect the tastes of the people who donated the money to build them.

Some of the main campus buildings have an old-world castle feel to them, with stone facades and turrets, while others look more like modern art exhibits with lots of mirrors and interesting shapes.

There are also coastal mansions that look like they were plucked out of the early 1900s and dropped in the middle of campus, and some that look like fortresses, while others have a more utilitarian feel.

Hamilton House, the dorm I live in, has an old-school Gothic Victorian vibe with all the modern amenities while still looking like Bram Stoker’s vacation home. The other dorms are just as unique, and each one has a distinct look and feel that matches the traditions of the people who founded them.

Boone House is a squat, low-rise apartment building with a brick exterior, a tiny courtyard, and almost no personality that’s tucked into the back corner of the campus and surrounded by woods on two sides.

It also has limited security, and unlike most of the dorms, the building plans aren’t secret and can be found in the school’s system if you know where to look.

Thanks to my research, I know Myles lives on the third floor next to the back stairs. The room across from him is occupied, but the one next to him is empty.

Unlike Hamilton House, all of the rooms in Boone House are singles, and there are four communal bathrooms on each floor.

Since the dorm is actually a duplex with separate amenities, entrances, and security for each side, it’s also the only coed dorm on campus.

The women live on one side while the men live on the other.

There are also a ton of vacant rooms since only a handful of first gens are invited to attend Silvercrest each year, and first gens have an incredibly high attrition rate compared to legacies.

That’s probably because it’s easy to get kicked out for a minor infraction as a first gen, but almost impossible as a legacy unless you do something especially heinous that can’t be justified. Or you piss off the wrong people.

The system isn’t fair, but neither is the real world, and especially not our world.

It's almost midnight by the time I’m circling the building to do a sweep of the grounds. Most of the windows are dark, and the exterior lights are also off.

The building’s security is abysmal, with only a swipe log that tracks the ID cards of every person who enters and leaves, a basic, closed-circuit camera system, and a lockdown feature that can be activated if there’s ever a campus-wide emergency. Otherwise it’s completely unprotected.

It’s easy to stay out of sight with the woods right next to the dorm, and once my sweep is done and I’m satisfied that there are no surprises or important things missing from the plans Jace lifted for me, I make my way to the back corner of the building.

Myles has his curtains mostly drawn, but the rectangle of light spilling out from between the panels tells me he’s still awake.

Keeping to the shadows, I quickly scale one of the bigger trees across from his window and settle on a thick branch with my back against the trunk.

I can’t see much of the room because the curtains are blocking most of the window, but directly in my line of sight is a desk, a fancy computer set up that could rival my brother’s, and the man of the hour himself sprawled out in a cushy desk chair and typing furiously on his keyboard.

I can also see about half of his bed, a nightstand, and the corner of a dresser.

The room is dark except for a few strings of lights that are glowing a soft blue. On either side of his desk, stand-up light poles have all the colors in the spectrum fading in and out in sequence, so it looks like the light is moving over the poles in waves.

Like my brother, Myles’s keyboard is backlit, but while Jace prefers red lights, Myles’s is rainbow, and the three oversized screens in front of him make it easy to see what he’s doing.

On one screen is a game where it looks like his character is wandering around a fantastical landscape.

The game is familiar, but I can’t immediately place it.

The center screen is one I’m very familiar with, thanks to living with my brother.

Lines of code and commands flash and shift around the screen as Myles works on whatever it is he’s doing, though I’m too far away to make anything out.

The last screen is playing an episode of an old comedy show with subtitles.

If he’s anything like my brother, Myles is probably just using it as an auditory distraction while he works.

Keeping an eye on him, I try to imagine what the rest of his room looks like based on the plans I studied. Besides the bed, desk, nightstand, and dresser, the room should have a bookcase, a dresser, a walk-in closet, and a couch and coffee table out of sight on the other side of the room.

It’s possible he moved his furniture around, but something tells me he’s not the type to care about room flow or chi or whatever else people use as an excuse to move shit around with no real purpose or reason.

I watch as Myles leans back in his desk chair and pulls his phone out of his hoodie pocket. He taps on the screen a few times and uses his feet to spin his chair in a slow circle, and I’m able to see his face as he smiles at his phone.

I’ve memorized his ID photo and stalked his limited social media posts, but I have no recollection of ever seeing him around campus. That means we either haven’t crossed paths before, or he’s just as unassuming in person as he is in his photos.

Seeing him now, I know it’s the second option.

Myles is the perfect gray man, someone who can hide in plain sight.

Everything about him, from his mousy brown hair to his baby-faced features and unremarkable looks, makes him blend into the background.

I know from his file that he’s five-eleven and weighs about one sixty, which just makes him another average guy with brown hair.

Nothing about him stands out in a crowd unless he purposely draws attention to it.

Myles laughs at something on his phone screen, and I’m struck by how young he looks.

Part of it is his baby face and cherubic features, and his oversized hoodie and sweatpants certainly don’t help, but in that moment, he looks like an innocent kid, even though he’s only a few months from his nineteenth birthday.

It's hard to believe he had any part in helping someone try to kill Felix, but he did, and that makes him dangerous, baby face or no.

Ignoring the rest of the gear I packed away in my sweater, I pull out a small digital camera with an incredibly powerful lens and snap a few pics of both the room and Myles so I can revisit them later. When I have what I need, I slip the camera away and settle on the branch.

I need to figure out his habits and routines, and that includes when he goes to bed, so I won’t be moving from my perch until that happens. It’s a good thing I’m a night owl and don’t need a lot of sleep because something tells me Myles is also a night person, and we’re both in for a long one.

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