Chapter 5
Parker
Iawoke to the now familiar feel of fur and doggie kisses.
“I got you, buddy. Just gimme a sec.” I could not get my eyes open.
I felt like I was coming up through black water.
There was an ache deep in my hips, blooming down both thighs, hot and sweet and humiliating.
A weight was suddenly dropped on my chest. “What the hell?” I caught the smell first. My eyes were trying to focus on the remnant in my hand.
“A bone?” The reason for the ache in my hips came back in a rush.
A nice juicy bone. I sat straight up and threw the bone across the room.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Twenty seconds Rocket dropped the bone back in my lap, standing up against the side of my bed.
I peeked through my hands, which now held my face.
His silly ear stuck straight up as he waited with anticipation for me to throw the bone again.
“Did the big bad man give you this bone last night, buddy?” The tilt of his head was so precious it was almost enough to make me not want to die from the memory of the stranger’s hand striking my ass over and over.
I flopped back down onto my pillow. “Ugh! What did I do, Rocket?” My arms and shoulders were sore, as if I’d spent all night wrestling with a demon. And maybe I had.
I forced myself upright again. A cold, neutral light filtered in, falling over the chaos of the bed.
My comforter was half-off; one corner of the fitted sheet jerked loose.
I was naked, which wasn’t unusual, but the state of the room made it different.
I took inventory: no blood, no bruises worth the name, but there were finger imprints along my right side where someone had gripped me tight enough to leave a map.
The man in the mask—the one I’d seen at the window, then imagined stalking my sleep—had crossed the final boundary.
Had touched me, held me, left me shaken but not broken.
I looked down at my little pup, who was probably wondering why I wasn’t getting dressed to get his breakfast. “Why am I not more freaked out, Rocket?” I dragged myself out of bed and started to get dressed.
I should have been terrified. Instead, I found myself humming with a new and terrible electricity.
My wolf was almost purring. What was that about?
He had made me come, not with the slow tenderness of a lover, but with the deliberate efficiency of a musician tuning a guitar.
It had worked. Even now, the ghost of his leather-covered hands hovered over my skin, turning every inch of me into an antenna.
I traced my ribs with one hand and shivered, remembering the pressure of his grip.
My ass was tender. He’d fucking wailed on it.
Punishment. For what? He said I was smart enough to figure it out.
No sign of him now, except for that damn bone.
That and the glass of water he’d pressed to my lips after.
Even the water tasted different, as if the glass remembered him better than I did.
I should have called someone. I should have been angry, or afraid, or at the very least ashamed. But I wasn’t. What I felt was closer to relief, a slow uncoiling of something that had been knotted inside me for years.
I padded to the bathroom and flicked on the light. My reflection looked back, not as a victim, but as someone who had gotten exactly what she asked for. My face was flushed, the marks on my neck already fading to yellow. I smiled, then grimaced, then smiled again. It was all very confusing.
I threw on a pair of joggers, a sports bra and sweatshirt.
My socked feet skidded along the hardwood as I made my way to the kitchen.
Rocket waited patiently by his bowl. Such a good boy.
“Who’s a good boy? You are? Yes, you are.
Such a good, good, boy.” I showered him with praise as I filled his food bowl.
My hands shook as I made coffee, but not from fear.
From anticipation, maybe. Or just the thrill of knowing there was someone out there who wanted me badly enough to take what he wanted. And to give me what I needed.
While the coffee brewed, I powered up my laptop.
I had to see if I could fix this mess. The screen flickered, then spat out a series of system alerts I hadn’t seen before.
For a second, I thought the hack had gone nuclear, but it was just an update request from the network diagnostic tool I’d left running overnight.
I powered my phone back on. So many missed calls. I was the walking dead. It immediately rang. Fuck. Axel.
“Hello, brother dear.”
“WHAT THE FUCK, PARKER?”
I had to hold the phone away from my ear. He was shouting so loudly.
“Axel, calm down. What’s up?”
“Silas Drake is gonna kill you.”
That got my attention, because Silas Drake could very well do that. My life was shit anyway. I looked down at Rocket. My heart hurt. I really didn’t want to leave my new little dog. But I might not have a choice.
“Axel, I’m working on the code right now. This isn’t as easy as making a pivot table in Excel you know.”
“No, Parker, I don’t know. All I know is you ignored five calls from Silas yesterday. You’re lucky he didn’t just send someone to your house yesterday to end you.”
“Well, if he’d ended me yesterday, he’d never get Iron Valor money, cuz I’m the only person who can do it, if it can even be done.”
“Well, guess what, sis? You’ve got a meeting with Silas in two hours. You have to come to him.”
“Fuck Axel. I don’t want to come to Greenbriar pack territory.”
“Well, then you should have answered your fucking phone yesterday. You’d better have answers for Silas when you come.”
“Fine. I’ll be there.”
I hung up the phone and logged in, checked the dummy account I’d created to siphon funds from Iron Valor’s mainline.
Shit! Last night’s transfer had gone through!
No sign of interruption, no alerts from the receiving shell.
I allowed myself a slow exhale, then checked the backup script. Everything looked tight.
But then I looked closer. There was a discrepancy in the timestamp—a ten-minute gap that shouldn’t have been possible.
I checked the raw logs. In that window, the server should have pushed a confirmation ping, but the packet never appeared.
Instead, there was a double-entry—a packet that arrived from my end, then bounced back as if the server was faking its own output.
I ran it again, this time with a different credential. The anomaly was still there. Not a bug, not a hardware fault. A counter-hack.
I stared at the monitor, my heart stuttering in my chest. If Wrecker had found me, really found me, it would be a miracle if he didn’t send someone to my house to drag me out by the roots of my hair. Unless he has already set that plan into motion.
“Rocket, I’m doomed.” A tear ran down my cheek as I picked up my little goofy dog, his bottom teeth protruding a little more than the top, his tongue hanging out.
“I’m sorry buddy. I wanted to make your life better.
Looks like I won’t be around to make that happen.
” I had to figure out what I’d do with him.
It might be a mistake, but I’d send an email to the Iron Valor Luna.
I’ll just ask her to take him and make sure he gets a good home in the event that she hears of anything happening to me.
I’d heard she was someone you could trust. I set him down so I could find the words to type.
I flinched, expecting to see the black mask in the kitchen window, or behind me in the living room. But the only thing there was the pale morning light and the chill that wouldn’t leave my bones.
I leaned back in my chair, rubbed my wrists where the marks he’d left were brightest. I thought about last night, about the way he had taken me—no, not taken, that wasn’t right—about the way I had given in.
It was unlike anything I had ever let myself imagine.
I was a control freak, a rule maker, a girl who could get herself off with two fingers and a cheap toy in under three minutes.
But last night, I’d let go. I’d let him decide what happened, and the world hadn’t ended. In fact, it had gotten better.
I tried to focus on the work, but my thoughts kept looping back to the man in the mask.
The way he’d spoken, the way he’d touched me.
I’d never met anyone who could make me feel in danger and safe at the same time.
I prided myself on being a giant when it came to intellect and independence.
I liked being in control of my situation.
But not last night. I’d put myself in a stranger’s hands.
And the unrestrained freedom that came with that was enlightening.
No one had ever managed that trick, no matter their size. It went against every instinct I had.
The coffee finished brewing. I poured a cup and then added a splash of cream.
I saw from the dirty tan color that I hadn’t added enough, but I drank it anyway.
My hands were steadier now. I needed to figure out what I was going to tell Silas.
He would want to know the progress of the hack, and he wouldn’t want to hear about setbacks.
He’d want results. He wasn’t exactly patient.
I went into the bedroom closet and stared at my clothes.
I had to be careful about what I wore. Nothing seemed right.
I didn’t want to look too good. I didn’t want to look weak either.
I pulled out a plain black hoodie, one size too big, and a pair of dark jeans.
A pink tee and an older pair of Docs completed my nondescript look.
If I went too far, Silas would know I was deliberately trying to look off-putting. He was no fool.
My hair was no problem. It’s my favorite thing about myself, if I’m honest. Full and wavy, with just a little bit of product in my palms, a quick fluff and my locks swept to the side in short and long chunks, pink highlights mixed in with the natural brunette color.
I’d risked having my stylist take the razor and shave the left side of my head with a guard, so it’s pretty close over that ear.
Looking at myself, I laughed at the lie I told the world.
The one that said I’m edgy. Quirky is closer to the truth.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my feet.
Rocket trotted over to me as if he wanted to comfort me.
To tell me there was one living being on the earth who cared if I lived or died.
I picked him up and nuzzled him under my chin.
I’d let my memory drift to last night, reliving every detail.
The sting of my jeans rubbing against my ass made it unforgettable.
Then the way he held me so gently after.
Has anyone cared for me like that ever? Not since my mom and dad. Not that I can remember.
I checked my phone. No more calls from Silas or Axel.
I had about fifteen minutes before I needed to be on the road.
My stomach twisted with dread. I put the phone down, then picked it back up and stared at it.
For a second, I wanted to text the masked man.
To say thank you, or fuck you, or just to see if he’d respond.
But I had no number, no name, nothing except the memory of his voice in my ear.
“You’re not in charge here,” he’d said. But he was wrong. I was always in charge, or I had been up until last night.
“Ok Rocket, enough cuddling.” I put him on my bed and headed to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, avoiding my reflection. I grabbed my bag, threw in my laptop, grabbed my Sig P238 from my desk drawer and put it in its special pocket then zipped it shut.
I let Rocket out the backdoor so he could take care of his business one last time before I headed out.
At the door, I paused and looked at my little dog not knowing if I’d ever see him again.
He must have sensed my emotions as he ran and jumped into my arms. “Hey buddy, I’ll be back as quick as I can, okay?
I’m gonna try my damnedest to come back to you.
I promise.” I set him down and quickly wiped the tear that had escaped my eye.
I went through the routine of locking doors and setting the alarms and heading out.
The cold waited outside, but I didn’t care.
I was ready for it. I could handle anything.