Chapter Forty Five #2
“Wow, you really have been keeping tabs, and I haven’t seen you once. That’s some impressive stalking, maybe we should trade tips.” My lips twitch into a grin, but there’s a flicker of calculation behind it, the gears in my head already turning. Reid is sly, which makes him dangerous. Noted.
Reid’s stare doesn’t waver, his features not softening to my compliment.
I get the impression he’s cataloguing every trait of mine in the same way I’m doing to him, a stand-off taking place on Meg’s doorstep.
Leaning an inch forward, Reid gets closer in an attempt to daunt me.
My smile grows wider. Being an immigrant, I learnt early on to not show weakness.
To know where I belong, and throw all of my convictions into it.
There’s no use trying to intimidate me, but Reid’s efforts make me chuckle all the same.
“Where are they?” he growls. Ah. There it is. I tilt my head slightly, letting a beat of silence stretch between us as I weigh up how much he already knows versus how much he thinks he knows.
“I can’t tell you that, amigo, but between me and you, Meg might not need any midnight one-on-one art therapy sessions in your room when she gets back.” Yeah, I know all about that. Bathing in Reid’s flicker of surprise, I bob my brows intentionally. “Her demons will be a thing of the past.”
I deliver it lightly, like it’s a joke I’m letting him in on, but the effect is anything but amusing.
I’ve seen that responding look before, the exact moment reality fractures and an ugly truth starts clawing its way to the surface.
The color drains from Reid’s face, his usually controlled features slipping into a look of horror.
Briefly, it takes me back to the first time I saw Meg in the wreckage I pulled her from.
The same hollow shock, the same creeping horror.
A bit of an overreaction about being caught having after dark visits with my girl, but whatever.
“Oh fuck,” Reid mutters, his hand lifting like he doesn’t know whether to cover his mouth or drag it through his hair.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” My eye twitches at his reaction, an alarm beginning to ring in my head.
That’s my wariness alarm. Reid stumbles back a few steps, his rigid control gone and replaced with frantic, uncoordinated movements as he drags his phone out of his jeans.
His shoulder slams into the doorframe of his room, barely slowing him down as he disappears inside.
I don’t need to follow to pick up on the panicked hitch in his voice.
“We have a problem. Call me back immediately.” The door slams straight after, leaving me wrapped in a blanket and staring into the empty hallway.
Huh. What an interesting man, I think to myself, easing Meg’s door closed with a gentle click of the latch, as to not raise any suspicion.
However, as soon as the bolt slides into place, I’m flying across the room and throwing myself into the wheeled chair.
It travels into the wall, which I push off and plant myself in front of the computer screen.
“Okay, asshole-next-door. Let’s see what you’re hiding.
” My fingers crack as I shove the game window aside, the bright colors disappearing in favor of a black-screened server.
Pulling up a clean interface and routing through a secondary server, I tap into the local network, skimming for active devices and filtering out the garbage until I find what I’m looking for.
A phone pings intermittently, its signal bouncing just strong enough through the wall to latch onto.
Reid isn’t broadcasting his secrets, but he’s not invisible either. No one ever is.
“Come on. Come on,” I mutter, fingers moving faster now as I pull up metadata and connection logs.
Finally, after what feels like forever but is only a few minutes in reality, I locate the recent outgoing call.
There’s no name attached, just a number.
My grin sharpens. “Now we’re getting somewhere. ”
Isolating the number and running it through a quick sweep, I realize it’s not local but bounced through various towers.
The kind of number that someone wanted to hide in plain sight.
Unfortunately for Reid, nothing is ever hidden if you know where to look.
A few more keystrokes and I’m piggybacking off the connection Reid just used, ready to tap in as a ghost listener.
Now all I have to do is wait for a call to come through.
Slipping the headset back on, I snuggle into the blanket and stare at the screen, waiting not-so-patiently.
“Come on, call him back,” I whisper expectantly, my gaze drifting toward the wall that separates us.
Luckily, I don’t have to wait long. The line flickers to life with a soft crackle, the audio stabilizing as I hover a hand near the keyboard in case I need to adjust anything mid-stream.
Thankfully, the connection is clean and crisp, possibly better than whatever service Reid is actually paying for.
“Finally,” Reid breathes, and I can practically hear the uneven thuds of his pacing. “Where the hell have you been?” There’s a pause on the other end before a woman responds.
“I was in the pool, making the best of my life now, remember?” I take note of the edge in her tone and the insinuation being made.