Chapter 4 The Chaos Application
FOUR
THE CHAOS APPLICATION
LARK
Knight Hayes is the human embodiment of a locked cabinet.
And I absolutely love picking locks.
He stands in front of me now, arms folded like steel doors, jaw clenched, eyes stormy. He looks like he’d rather wrestle a bear than have a conversation with me.
Which only makes this more fun.
I drop my bag onto his kitchen table and unzip it, slow and dramatic.
Knight watches me like I’m a live grenade. “Don’t take anything out of that bag,” he warns.
I ignore him completely. A stack of manila folders lands on the table. Then a burner laptop. Then a USB drive with a tiny pink bow on it.
Knight stares.
I flash a smile. “Time to talk business.”
He blinks once. “No.”
“I haven’t said anything yet.”
“You don’t have to. Whatever you’re planning, the answer is no.”
“You’re not even curious?” I tilt my head to study him.
“Not even a little.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“That’s a lie,” I sing.
Knight scrubs a hand down his face.
I flip open the first folder, turning it so he can see—pictures, profiles, bank trails, timestamps, and locations. Each page is labeled with a codename.
PROJECT SCORPION — CHILDREN'S REHAB FRAUD
Another folder.
PROJECT SILK — HUMAN TRAFFICKING COURIER
Another.
PROJECT WOLF — GAMING COMPANY EXPLOITING DATA MINORS
Knight’s arms drop from his chest.
Bingo.
I tap the top sheet. “These are predators who hide behind non-profits, charities, and corporate boards. You go after the scraps—the low-hanging fruit. Meanwhile, I’m tracking the ones who know how to erase their trails.”
His voice is gravel. “How did you get these?”
“Public record. Private servers. One secure Department of Justice database that definitely needs better encryption.”
His eyes widen. “You hacked the DOJ?”
“Relax. I didn’t break anything. I just borrowed information they weren’t using.”
Knight pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like I need holy water.
He takes the folder from my hand and starts flipping through, scanning the intel. A muscle jumps in his jaw. He realizes something.
My intel isn’t surface level.
It’s mission-ready.
He closes the folder slowly. “You shouldn’t have access to any of this.”
“I do.”
“You shouldn’t be tracking criminals alone.”
“I’m not. I’m tracking criminals with you.”
He looks up sharply.
I slide the USB drive across the table. The little bow bounces.
“What is that?” he asks.
“My application to the team.”
He stares at me like I handed him a time bomb. “We don’t take applications.”
“You do now.”
“No.” He shoves the drive back. “Absolutely not.”
I shove it right back. “Watch it.”
“I don’t work with civilians.”
“I’m not a civilian.”
“You’re not trained.”
“Oh, I’m trained.” I lift my bat from where it rests against the chair. “In emotional terrorism.”
Knight closes his eyes like he’s praying for patience.
I hop onto his counter, boots kicking lightly. “Knight. Face it. You need me.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I literally don’t.”
“You absolutely do.”
His voice goes low and dangerous. “Why?”
I soften—just barely.
Because this is my moment.
“Because you don’t finish,” I say quietly. “You drag these guys into the light, you give the evidence to the authorities… and then you walk away. But sometimes? The system breaks. And bad men walk back into the world.”
His throat bobs. He knows I’m right.
“And because…” My voice softens even more. “…you’re trying to protect people without letting anyone protect you.”
Silence.
Knight’s not good with emotions. They scramble him. He prefers anger—it feels cleaner. He finally exhales and sits across from me. “What’s on the drive?”
“Footage of every op you’ve done in the last three months.”
His head snaps up.
“Plus,” I add cheerfully, “the weak points in your encryption, your blind surveillance angles, and a list of ways you could’ve gotten arrested.”
“You—assessed us.”
“I evaluated your deficiencies.”
“That’s worse.”
“And I also included a folder titled ‘Why Knight Needs Me.’ It’s color-coded and formatted. You’re welcome.”
He glares. “Delete it.”
“Not unless you accept my terms.”
He leans forward. “There are terms?”
“Oh yes.” I hold up one finger.
Term One:
“I go on missions. Not behind a screen. In the field.”
He opens his mouth to argue—I cut him off.
Term Two:
“You train me. Properly. No half-assed ‘stay in the car’ crap.”
His gaze drags over me, slow and heated.
My heart trips.
“And Term Three…” I lean in, close enough to smell his aftershave, to feel the electricity between us crackle.
“If you tell me no…” I tap the drive. “…the world gets a front-row seat to every illegal thing you’ve done since April.”
Knight’s nostrils flare. “You’re blackmailing me.”
I smile sweetly. “I’m encouraging your growth.”
He stands abruptly, pushing away from the table like he needs distance.
Not to think.
To stay sane.
“You are chaos,” he says.
I hop off the counter and saunter toward him. “And you? You’re control.” I stop inches away. “Imagine how deadly we’ll be together.”
He swallows.
Hard.
I tuck the USB into his hand and pat it twice. “We start tomorrow.”
He whispers, “I haven’t agreed to anything.”
“You will.” I head to the door, swinging my bat over my shoulder. “See you at 7 a.m., Knight.”
“You don’t have access to our HQ.”
I wink. “I’ll find the key.” The door clicks shut behind me.
And I know he’s standing there, staring at the USB drive in his hand, totally losing his mind.
Good.
Let the games begin.