Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Eleanor
If fate is wielded by intangible power, why do we sense it stalking us?
I people watch. I always have. Curious as to how everyone in the real world interacts with their environment and each other. At first, it was a survival instinct, a way to fit into social situations without garnering attention. Then it became a fundamental part of my psyche. When I stepped outside, my hacker identity changed from Ghost to Eleanor, and I needed to wear a mask. It was the only way to survive.
My uncle was patient enough, but it took a long time for me to fully understand and stop behaving in a way that deferred decisions to him simply because he was male. The military helped. Seeing powerful women command the respect of all was an eye-opener and a much-needed shift into reality. Jonathan’s chains took a long time to break, but once I was free, I knew I could never go back. I would rather die than be under anyone’s thumb ever again.
Sipping the coffee Hunter prepared me, I notice the way everyone here pitches in. Gender doesn’t matter. In fact, if I was to assign how much time each person spent doing something for the opposite sex, I would estimate the pendulum swung to the males. They care. They love. They dote. Not just Hunter, but every Reaper.
William doesn’t flinch when Rose grumbles at him for handing her a bowl of soggy cereal, and Ian takes great pleasure in cooking bacon on the grill and handing it out to the steady procession of sleepy-eyed people.
There is a world of difference between the world Jonathan built and the town William has cultivated. No one is crying. No one is in pain. No one is alone. It’s something I’m sure many would envy; a family who will always be there for you to fall back on. Hunter is trying his best to welcome me into it. My resistance isn’t about me accepting the MC, it’s the other way around. Why would they accept me? What do I have to offer?
Hunter comes to stand in front of me, a bacon sandwich wrapped in a napkin dangling under my nose. I snatch it and take a bite, a groan of pure delight leaving me.
He chuckles, his eyes darkening as he takes a perch on the log next to me. “The bread is made by Cheryl.”
“It’s so good.” But also gone so quickly.
“You want another?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, I’m good.” What I really want to say is yes, a thousand times yes, but my cholesterol levels won’t thank me.
“What’s on the agenda today?” I ask as I gaze over the lake. It sparkles in the sunlight, and the ever-present fear has been replaced with awe. That’s a superpower. To take someone’s nightmares and spin them into dreams… I didn’t know that was possible. He has a gift, and all he wants to do is spend time with me.
“Kids will be here within the hour. Normally, we go on a hike around to the other side of the lake that’s not accessible by car.” He points over the water. “Then a swim and some lunch. People tend to do their own thing in the afternoon.”
I glance to the side and lift my eyebrow. “Own thing?”
His lips twitch. “Nap, sunbathe, read?—”
“About serial killers in love?”
“I could read to you if you like.”
I am curious about the book Helen and Honor’s club discussed. “Maybe.”
“You could serenade me with a tune and your bewitching voice.”
“I do not serenade.”
“Well then, I’ll feel special when you do it for me.”
There are more and more things that are just for him, but while I’m enjoying the time with Hunter, I’m not loving being cut off from the world. I understand needing a break from the nine-to-five tech chaos, but I am not one of those people. This is the first time since I learned I could access the entire world from behind a computer screen that I have gone without tech for over twenty-four hours. It helps to have a sexy biker to pass the time with, but in the cold light of day, I’m getting antsy to check my life hasn’t gone to shit because I’m not micromanaging it.
He snorts as the peaceful twitter of birds is broken by the rumble of engines. “You are struggling without your phone and laptop.”
It’s not a question; he knows. My hands twist in my lap. “A little,” I admit. If I could check in, ensure Jonathan hasn’t succeeded in taking over the world and Christopher isn’t crawling around Hunter’s home, I might be able to settle for the remainder of this camping trip.
The first of the vehicles appear, a minivan filled with mini humans. It stops by the trucks at the top of the hill, and Mark jumps out of the driver’s side, sliding the side door open and releasing an excited gang of children ranging from five to fifteen onto the peaceful forest morning. They rush to greet their parents, some taking off straight for the lake already wearing their swimwear, and a few of the older ones hang back like they are suffering through the trip. I can sympathize.
The passenger door opens and Carlson scurries out of the vehicle, pushing his glasses up his nose as he spots me. It’s odd seeing him without his laptop in his hands, but what would be the point? Nothing works out here unless he’s super excited about solitaire. He stops to talk to William, but I can’t hear anything they are saying on the other side of the fire pit.
William’s head shoots up, and his gaze narrows on Hunter and me. He nods once like he has made some important decision. “Eleanor, Hunter, a word,” William says as he strides past us and up the path leading into the forest—and probably to bears.
We rise and stalk after him with Carlson shuffling behind us until we are far enough away to not be overheard. What is with the cloak-and-dagger routine? And given my possession of boobs, why am I being included?
William turns to face us and folds his arms, sighing when he realizes C is hiding behind us. “Carlson, come here and explain what is happening.”
Carlson trips over his feet in his rush to be included in our little group and begins talking in short, rapid sentences which make complete sense to me, but I can tell confuse the other two. I ask some questions and become increasingly worried with each answer.
“Summarize,” William snaps, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Oh, umm.” A deep blush spreads over Carlson’s cheeks. “We’ve been hacked.”
“Successfully,” I add, because they previously stated attacks happen on a regular basis.
“Is it Jonathan or Christopher?” Hunter asks.
Carlson shakes his head. “Different code, different technique. They are also making demands.”
Hunter shuffles his feet. “For what?”
“Five million dollars,” Carlson squeaks, nervous about bringing the truth to his prez and VP.
That’s chump change for Jonathan and Christopher, and Carlson has profiled both of their habits and made an intelligent deduction that neither of those monsters want money. They want me.
William whistles. Hunter frowns, stepping closer to me and wrapping an arm around my waist. It’s adding up to a lone hacker good enough to infiltrate their business and hold its data for ransom to get a decent payday. What isn’t adding up is that they got past Carlson’s substantial and robust security. Not to say he’s infallible; we take great pleasure in picking at and testing each other’s work, but his code is good. It’s strong. It is normally enough for bragging rights. Something isn’t adding up.
I can see the wheels turning in Hunter’s mind. “How can I help?” I ask.
Hunter’s gaze snaps to mine, and I hold my ground against his hard stare. Don’t try to control me. It won’t end well when you’ve just won me over. The problem with holding someone’s heart, is that you have access to break it. Mine’s already in pieces, but he’s so careful with them, and it would destroy me for him to fail now.
“I have my laptop,” Carlson says as he tugs on the lobe of his ear. “If we drive until we have a signal, you could take a look and see if they are in as deep as I believe. And perhaps, trace back and fire a warning shot.”
“That could work. I don’t like bullies, and I think it’s time to teach them a lesson,” I mutter with a nod. And if I happen to check in with my own shit at the same time? No one will know.
“We need some more water and fresh burgers for the grill,” Hunter says. “I can drive you both to the store in the closest town.”
Sure you can. I take a small step away, tremors starting in my fingers. He still doesn’t trust me. After everything, he still doesn’t trust me. There’s a moment of silence before I open my mouth, but William gets there first.
“They can handle a trip to the store, Hunter,” William says with a little nod at me. My shoulders relax, the muscles calming. He gets it. Somehow, he understands and is trying to manage Hunter’s protective urges so they don’t smother me.
Hunter sighs and rolls his head, the bones making a popping sound that makes me grimace. “Fine. But the first sign of danger, the moment something isn’t right, you head straight back here.”
“How much trouble can I get into with a laptop and a shopping list for meat and water?”
William and Carlson talk between themselves before trekking down the hill to the camp. I start to walk past Hunter, but he grabs my elbow and spins me back to face him. He kisses me senseless, his lips urgent as his hips fuse to mine. Carnal promises linger in the slide of our bodies doing a dance as old as time. He pulls away before me, his chest heaving, and leans his forehead against mine, his hands tight around my biceps.
“I have a bad feeling,” he mumbles, like giving voice to it will make the universe manifest it into reality.
“Because you are worried.” I rub my nose along his, refusing to let his fear trigger mine and taint this moment. “It’s our mind’s way of raising warning flags when we have been under threat for a prolonged period of time. Trust me, not fate.”
His steely eyes skate over my face as he pulls away and blows out a long breath. “Okay.” He runs his hand through his hair as Charlie’s bark pulls him back towards camp.
The problem with fate is that it doesn’t give a fuck whether you agree with its plan or not. Nothing will alter its course, and no matter how much we beg and plead, the end is already written in the stars.