Chapter Eleven
Malone
My whole life was anxiety. I woke up in a panic. I fell asleep overthinking worst-case scenarios. Living them in my dreams. Searching for a solution. Rinse and repeat.
Pointless and maddening.
My only slice of hope was that a man with a shady name I met on the internet was going to somehow help me.
But I wasn’t showing my cards all at once even though he had probably already seen them.
Sketch asked me to meet him at a small café tucked into a street used more for walking from one busy street to another than traveling by car. I’d never seen the eatery with more than a handful of patrons.
Did the choice of venue protect him or me?
Probably him.
The only safe place I had left was inside myself, and even that dwindled by the second.
Sketch asked me to deliver all my electronics to him. Phone. Laptops. Even the old tablet I hadn’t used in months. I offered up my passwords, but that got me a laughing emoji.
Of course. He didn’t need my passwords. He already knew them.
Or could find them in the snap of a finger.
What had changed Sketch’s mind about helping me?
Even after agreeing to meet him there, I remained on the fence until the last minute, finally deciding to go but not bring my devices. Not yet. Hell, for all I knew, this person was the person stalking me, and I was falling right into his trap of manipulation.
What did I have to lose?
I brought the burner phone Sketch asked me to get and left the rest at my apartment.
I arrived on time and sat at the table he told me to. I was sure he knew what I looked like. My pictures were on social media like nearly anyone else’s.
Our whole lives were online for the world to see.
I ordered a coffee in a to-go cup and waited. And then I saw him sitting at a table nearby with his hood pulled down, sunglasses hiding his eyes. Something about his jawline seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it. He stood and came to sit at my table.
“You’re Sketch?” I whispered, making sure I was sitting across from the intended person and not just some hooded stranger.
Wait, he was a hooded stranger. From the internet. My stomach sank. How stupid was I?
“I am. And you’re Malone. Malone Davis Rochester. Pretender.”
All three names. Still, anyone could find that out.
“I am. Thanks for adding that. Good layer of freak-out.”
He cursed under his breath, but when the waitress approached, he ordered food and coffee. “You didn’t order food?”
I shook my head.
“I hope you don’t mind that I did.”
Clearly, he wasn’t nervous.
That made one of us.
“You have a lot of information online. Anyone could get to it. It was too easy.”
“Everybody does. I’m a nobody. No one. I have no money. Nothing to steal.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Sometimes who you are is what they steal. Or they’re just doing it for fun.”
I took a long, deep breath. Tried to get my head on straight. “Well, I don’t give two shits about why they’re doing it anymore. Funsies. Or pranks. Or jokes. I want it to end. It’s ruining the little life I have.”
“I’m gonna help.” The waitress delivered his iced macha and, to my surprise, he put the fries and churros between us. “Eat. You look like you haven’t eaten and slept in weeks.”
“Way to tell me I look like shit.”
I ate a handful of fries. Goddess, he must’ve been hot in that black hoodie. The sun was getting higher in the sky by the minute, and even I was sweating.
The moment descended on me.
I was sitting in a café with a person I somehow met online and was trusting him to get me out of a mess I had no hand in creating.
When did my life turn into this?
I ignored the stirring in my stomach, telling me to believe in this man and be wary of him at the same time.
He finally finished eating and sat back. “Are the devices in your car? I don’t see a bag.” Craning his neck, he looked around me.
“No. I didn’t bring them.”
“Why not?” A bit of his cool cracked.
“Because I don’t know you from anyone. For all I know, you could be the person harassing me.”
He snorted. “That’s actually smart not to trust me or anyone else. I sure as hell wouldn’t if I were you.”
“How did you even find me? I posted in a place I’d never been before.”
Another shrug. “You stumbled into the forum. It’s a place where amateurs go to learn hacking things. Sometimes I help. Most times I don’t. It’s entertaining. Most often I’ll be in a private room speaking with someone who is not an amateur.”
“Entertaining?” I scoffed. “People desperate for help isn’t entertaining.”
“Not you. The others. Not people who want help, the ones trying to hack. I felt sorry for you after I blocked you.”
Sympathy. Perfect. I would take it. Didn’t have much pride left.
“How do I know I can trust you?” I asked, knowing I might not like the answer.
“You don’t. That’s the thing about all this. You can only trust yourself. The rest is walking over the edge and hoping what I do is less evil than what others do and I’m willing, in your case, to use my wickedness for good.”
“Why?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”