Chapter 7 #2
I take a moment to ground myself, and make a mental note to give Austin the biggest end-of-year bonus ever—I’ve got my own money now, I can actually be the one who pays him that. I should actually do that, have him work directly for me instead of Dad, and that way—
Not important right now.
“Is he alone?”
“Yes.” The car stops, and I hear him put it in park. “Just leaning against the doorway of the creepy house.”
I sit up quickly and put on my happiest face.
“Good.”
I open the door only half a second before Austin, and he doesn’t say anything but I can tell he wants to grumble at me some more for not waiting for him.
“Morning, Eian,” I say, as casually as I possibly can, and from Austin’s frown, my guess is it lands well.
“Eli.” Eian nods once, still with that murderous frown firmly in place. If I hadn’t seen him with Iris and Colby, then I’d think he was frozen that way, but I soldier on despite it.
“Can I go say hi? When Seamus sees me he’s going to say some stuff that I’d rather you not hear.”
Honesty is the best policy, right?
I think it’s best that Eian is aware there’s something Seamus knows about me that I don’t want him to know, rather than having to hide that from him too.
That’s probably stupid, but I still gotta try, because the last thing I need is for Eian to know I can hack into all the agencies that are actively trying to get him behind bars .
. . that’s just asking for trouble. Okay, he probably already knows I could try, but he doesn’t have to know I’ve succeeded in the past.
Eian’s bright blue eyes stay hard on me for long enough that I feel Austin shift behind me, like he’s getting ready for a serious fight.
I’d rather avoid that.
“I just need a minute. You can even time me if you want.”
Another beat of silence, then I get a minuscule nod in return. I look back at Austin and smile encouragingly at him before talking to Eian again.
“Thanks. If you can’t be nice to Austin, at least please don’t hurt him.”
I don’t wait for a response.
I go right to the half-closed door at the far left wall of the very tiny cabin without taking in any of the rustic details, then jog down the stairs loudly so no one’s taken off guard when I speak.
I did get the plans for this building out of some poor construction worker’s phone, so I have a pretty good hunch of where Seamus is, and I know he wouldn’t attack me, but better safe than sorry.
“Kraken?” I ask, when I finally reach the closed door to what I think is his office.
“Come in.” I hear the excitement, and the trepidation, so I paste on my best smile and pull the door open, then hold my hands up already anticipating a rant.
“Before you say anything, yeah, I’m Angelwings. Eian only gave me a minute alone with you and you gotta swear to me you’re not gonna let him know what I’ve done in the past. I really can’t afford to have him knowing that.”
Seamus stares up at me from his chair, his arms hanging loosely next to the wheels, and his shoulders up to his ears with tension.
I watch as he practically reboots his brain, and I count the precious seconds in my head, but before he can actually react, there are two sets of footsteps coming from the stairs.
“Nice to meet you,” he says, his voice high-pitched and breathless.
“Nice to meet you too, Seamus.” I smile, relieved, then nod at his monitors. “Are you ready to get to work?”
December 1st
My mind wanders while Eian updates all the Chairs and the six Heirs present on how the FBI is doing in the massive operation that is finding all the victims they can. There’s some sharp interruptions, but all I can think about is hockey.
It’s a sad, sad fact.
Another fact is that I’ve maybe been avoiding the part of the internet that’s discussing the news of that operation, and instead I’ve been obsessing over Lex’s game stats and the part of the internet that’s obsessed with him and Vinny.
Reading about the disaster that is choosing an interim mayor who isn’t a piece of shit or the reports of dozens of arrests of wealthy men across the country is too depressing, and since I’ve done all I can to make sure they all meet justice, I’d really rather not enter a depressive episode because of it.
I have kept working on finding whoever tgr81gotcha is, that hasn’t changed, but I think that’s just another reason to disassociate.
The other half of my brain is running through the plans I have to keep the fanboys and girls thinking of Lex and me as best friends rather than brothers. I won’t even accept stepbrothers as a label for us anymore, and fans of the Jankowski men are still getting a kick out of it.
I really want them to stop thinking it’s a practical joke I’ve been playing on them, and after talking it through with Seamus, I’m thinking a more direct approach is in order.
Yeah, we had a half-hour to kill after we dealt with all the changes I recommended for his office, and I used it well.
In any case, what matters the most is that I’ve been responding to other people’s posts so far. I haven’t started a conversation with my rapidly rising list of followers.
Seamus had a few good tips on social engineering for me, and he was so excited to be teaching me something for once that his face just about broke in half with the force of his smile. It was at that moment I decided he’s now on my slowly rising list of friends.
“Eli?” Dad’s quiet but sharp tone has all the trains in my brain stopping at the same time.
My eyes focus again on where we are, on all the faces . . . staring at me.
Iris, Matthew, Zack, and Virginia, the Heirs of Foundation, Theatre, Wealth, and Residence respectively are the only ones missing, so it really is a lot of faces.
“Sorry, what?”
I look at Dad, but Harrison is the one who answers.
“I just gave you the floor so you can update us on your side of things.”
“Right.”
I shift on my chair and sit straight, my eyes catching Tucker’s smirk, and that makes at least one of my previously functioning brain trains start up again—I’ll get to that later, I assure myself.
“I’ve handed over everything to the FBI, and for now there’s not really a lot for me to do except keep looking for the person who created the website on the dark net. Like I explained last time, it’s clear that whoever they are, they’re experienced, but I’m having trouble finding them.”
“Do you know who the hacker is?” I’m surprised that Patricia, Heir of Art, would be the one to be interested enough to ask a question in the middle of my rant, but it’s not a bad question. “Is it someone famous like Anglewings66?”
I very pointedly don’t look at Dad, Baron, or Harrison, who are the only ones who know she’s talking about me, and use every trick I have under my sleeve to keep my face impassive.
“No.” I shake my head once. “I’ve never heard of them before and I’ve been asking around as discreetly as I can. None of the hackers I know have ever heard of tgr81gotcha, but I’ll keep looking. I’m sure that whoever they are, they’ll resurface soon enough.”
“Thank you, Eli,” Harrison says, taking control of the conversation again thankfully.