Chapter 22
Mia: What is the bet that Pepper is in Chase’s bed right now?
Emily: I’m okay not knowing what happens in my brother’s bed.
Teddy: Who is this?
Chloe: She’s got pink hair and tattoos.
Teddy: Badass!
Mia: We approve.
Chase: 0/10 chance :(
Jackson: You’re losing your touch, my dude.
CHASE
I lift my head from the fluffy pillow and throw it back down to try and get more comfortable, folding my hands across my chest.
I can’t stop thinking about Pepper. Round and round she runs in my head, eclipsing everything else in that pretty little sundress that bared acres of soft ochre skin and carefully inked black and grey tattoos covering one arm.
To see her laughing and joking with my family makes me realize that something is missing from my life, and for the first time, I have an urge to find that thing.
Despite what the gossip columns like to say, I’m not a commitment-phobe like my friends were before they met their wives.
I’m not blind to the fact that having someone in my life in that special way would be amazing.
I just haven’t found that person yet, and I won’t settle for something that feels just okay because society says I should.
Call me corny, but I want the whole package—what my friends have. I want a best friend, a partner, and a lover all in one. I want the fireworks and the certainty that this is my person. Anything less and I’d rather be alone. I’m good alone. Alone is easy and safe.
A fist hammers on my door and I barely have time to lift my head before it bursts open, a flurry of light pink hair and golden-brown limbs catapulting through it.
“I’ve found something.” She flaps the tablet in her hand at me.
“What if I had been naked?” I’m not far off in boxer briefs alone.
“Then I’d have gotten a good laugh.” Pepper shrugs her shoulder, causing the thin cotton dressing gown to slip further off it.
I prop myself up slightly on my elbows, and at that exact moment, her eyes fall to my chest. High cheekbones flood with copper, her stunned gaze trailing the length of my body.
I wait for her to regain motor function, but all she does is stand there with her bottom lip clamped between her teeth.
I can’t pretend there isn’t something inside my chest that growls its approval—who wouldn’t want a pretty woman to look at them like that?
But my restraint is only so strong and she really needs to stop before I say fuck it and kiss her all over again.
“You found something?” I probe reluctantly, wishing with every fiber of my being that I could explore that sparkle in her eyes.
“Mhmm,” she hums, eyes still glued to my abs.
I roll my eyes, suppressing a smile as I roll over and get up from the bed, picking up my discarded T-shirt draped over the back of an upholstered bucket seat in one corner.
“Oh!” She spins around as I put it on, the bottom of her gown fanning out to reveal small pajama shorts that just about tease the lower curve of her ass. “Sorry.”
I’d bet my bottom dollar that her face is beet red right now, but teasing her for that is dangerous territory. “It’s fine, what did you find?”
“So I rerouted a flagged shipment to see what would happen, and they reacted fast.” She flicks her hand conversationally at the wall.
“You can turn around, I won’t bite.” I lower myself onto the edge of the bed and place my elbows on my thighs. Unless you ask me to, the slutty part of my brain fills in.
Sure enough, when she turns around, her face is warm with color and she seems to be having a hard time making eye contact. Oh, how I would love to know what is happening in that pretty little head right now.
“The shipment was rerouted back to its original destination in thirty-seven seconds.”
My stomach drops. “A quick correction is not good news for us.”
“True, but it wasn’t perfect.” She holds one finger up before tapping on the screen in her hands. “See, there was a spike in manual overrides, and it created a slight delay between systems.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, swiping a hand over my face.
This means there is someone on site monitoring in real time, not remotely.
It confirms our theory that the perpetrators are employees, versus someone external accessing the site fraudulently.
“And let me guess, we don’t have a record of who overrode the shipment? ”
“Bingo. The logs were wiped, and the backup, too.”
If it weren’t for the thousands of hard-working men and women at each plant who deserve to keep their jobs, I would clean house and start again.
I stare at my feet, flicking through ways to stamp this out immediately.
I can’t keep this running any longer while we investigate, knowing there are people actively surveilling my sites from the inside.
“Okay, I’ll revoke manual overrides on site and create a committee of people I trust to authorize any changes.” It will be a fucking ass ache given how may sites we have, and how many thousands of overrides our plants likely create each day, but it’s better than the alternative.
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“What?” My head whips up, and it turns out she’s finally looking at me. Glaring, in fact. “Why?”
“Because all this would have been for nothing!” She flaps a hand up—she’s awfully flappy tonight.
“Do you really think whoever is responsible for this is just going to give up? No! They’re just going to find a way to do it outside of your network, and then we really won’t have a hope in hell of stopping them. ”
I take her in, in all her fiery glory, dressing gown tie hanging in a loose knot at her naval, the thin material now all the way down to her elbow to reveal a thin emerald-green cotton cami top with lace edging and a tantalizing hint of a nipple poking through.
Determination inhabits every smooth plane and crease across her face, and I’m struck by how different she is now to when she first summoned me to the precinct four weeks ago. She’s magnificent in every way.
“What changed?” I ask in a low voice, wondering where along the way she started to really care about this and I didn’t notice.
Her nostrils flare and she squares her shoulders, taking the opportunity to gather her robe together and re-tie it.
“You changed.” I cant my head, taking in the slight downturned press to her full mouth.
She’s nervous, and my theory on why makes my heart beat a little faster when she continues.
“And despite what you might think, I do what I do because I care. I care about creating a little more good in the world wherever I can.”
It’s the closest she’s ever come to acknowledging to me that she acts as some kind of cyber vigilante, and I’m taken back to that overhead conversation in her hallway.
Could it really be true that there is more to this woman that I know?
I’ve not been able to glean any evidence that she operates anything other than solo, but those women she paints with, those words spoken…
Could it be? And the third question I ask myself in rapid fire is, does it matter? Do I care if that’s the case?
No. The answer is firm and resounding in my brain, and I make a decision then and there to wash away the noise and just focus on the woman. “Come here.” I beckon my hand gently at her, treating her like a spooked horse that might bolt the stall at any given moment.
She hovers feet away, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she contemplates my offer. Finally, she relents and takes a step forward, sliding her hand into mine. I try not to focus on how soft and delicate it feels as I use it to guide her to sit on the bed next to me.
“Okay, tell me your plan.”
“What makes you think I have a plan?” She blinks up at me, that sweet jasmine scent wrapping around us.
“You always have a plan,” I counter.
She smiles and drops her gaze to our still connected hands.
I expect her to pull away, but she doesn’t, instead tracing an old scar across my knuckle with her forefinger.
“We pull the security footage, maybe even from the surrounding streets too, if I can manage it. Even if it’s five hundred people, it’s still a pool to work with. ”
I mull over this plan. “I’ll start compiling a list of everyone who has access to the control room at that plant, and that will help us narrow it down.”
“That was going to be my next request.” She nods, the corner of her mouth twitching.
I shake my head, one thing sticking in my side and twisting. “And don’t go hacking into any security cameras we don’t own—I’ve got connections in the mayor’s office. I’ll call in a favor.”
What I don’t say is that my real reason for doing this is that I don’t want her to commit any more crimes before her trial.
I spoke with Landau yesterday morning, and the discovery files that the state attorney sent over are damning.
Three different people with influence have come forward and provided evidence against her, and the maximum sentence she could be facing is thirty years.
Despite my initial reaction, I couldn’t be more grateful that Pepper called me that day.
I shudder to think of the position she would be in now if she had to rely on a lackadaisical public defender.
Landau is the best, and he’s hunkered down in his office right now preparing for war, and I’ll never show her how worried I am that it might not be enough.
A couple of thuds sound in the hallway and Pepper tries to withdraw her hand from mine, but I keep it there, turning my head to listen.
“Shh, we’ll wake up the babies!” Mia whisper-shouts, followed by a brush of what sounds like someone rebounding off a wall and some giggles that are trapped behind a cupped hand.
“Chase,” Pepper whispers, tugging her hand again so that I look at her. “I don’t want to be caught in here. It looks…well, you know how it looks.”
The door handle to my room rattles softly, the polished chrome knob moving a touch on this side before slotting back into place.