Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Do you have anything,” I lean in to whisper. “Non alcoholic.”
She laughs and gives me a conspiratorial nod. “Fruity or hoppy?”
“Fruity?”
“Coming right up.” She pulls out a glass and fills it with ice, coconut water, pineapple juice and some sort of blue mixer.
I take a sip. “That’s not bad! What is it?”
“A blue hawaiian, minus the rum. It’s Summer’s favorite and she craved them all the time while she was pregnant with the triplets so we managed to convince Chef to keep the ingredients.”
“Triplets!”
She must see the shocked, slightly horrified look on my face and nods. “No kidding. I’m happy for her and her boys, but no thank you. I’ll stick to being cool Auntie Jewel.”
Drink in hand, I take my laptop over to one of the tables and dive back into my research. Right now, I’m back to sorting through the files on the flash drive that seemed the most likely to have useful information. I don’t imagine we’ll see Mullerby again, not while he’s on his “leave of absence”. I still have a vague sense that I should feel bad for what we did, but then I remember Danny and all the other people behind bars and I struggle to dig up any sympathy.
“Studying not going great?” Scrapper slides into the chair next to me and starts rubbing my back with the flat of his strong hand.
I shake my head without lifting it. “Not studying. Well, not really.” I turn the laptop his way and show him the files.
He squints at the screen, then reaches into his vest and does the very last thing I can imagine. Pulls out glasses. “Babe, I don't know much about computer shit, and file encryption or whatever you were calling it, but Snark’s one of the guys playing pool over there and we need to check in with him about that phone number anyway.”
I hear what he says, but I’m also too focused on how my hot biker guy just Clark Kent’ed himself into hot nerd biker guy. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
His cheeks redden just a touch. “Yeah. Have done for years. I can see just fine at a distance, it’s reading that sucks. Did I ruin my image?”
“Not at all.” I lick my lips and lean back. “I kinda like it.”
“Hmmm. I’ll keep that in mind.” He wiggles his eyebrows and leans in for a kiss before walking over to the pool players and leaning in to talk to a wiry guy with short hair and colorful tattoos.
They come back over together.
“Mila, Snark.” Scrapper points to me. “Snark, Mila. She’s the girl with the phone number and she's got a flash drive with some files or something that she can't get into. You wanna take a look?”
Snark flashes me a little wink. “This is what I get for coming out of my den. Let me see.” I push the laptop over.
He clicks around a little, opens the files in some programs that I didn't even know came with my computer, then snorts in annoyance. “See those? They look like he’s backed up chat logs, but they're encrypted. I bet I can figure out what's in them, but it's gonna take me some time. How important is this?”
“Very,” Scrapper says, and for once, his voice is dead serious. “I know you got shit to do, but if you're able to prioritize this, there's a bottle of whiskey, your choice, in it for you.”
“Shit, bringing out the big guns.” Snark laughs. “I'll get on it as soon as I can. You heard him, right?” he asks me.
“Yeah, of course.”
“Excellent. I'll send you a link to the bottle I want.” He pulls the flash drive out of my laptop, tosses it once and catches it again, then shoves it deep into his pocket. I reach for it before I catch myself. “Don't worry,” he says more seriously. “I'm gonna take good care of this. Trust me.”
The confidence in his voice has my hackles down again. I have everything backed up onto my laptop now, but giving away the physical drive still feels wrong. But if he can crack some of the files, then it could be worth it. Next time I visit Danny, I want good news. So far I’ve just managed to prove him right, that this is too dangerous for me to mess with on my own.
Good thing I’m not alone anymore.
After Snark leaves, a much more imposing figure comes down the stairs from the office that overlooks the common room. Eagle-eye. I recognize him from the party where he was dancing with his partner. I have to admit I was pretty distracted by other things, but there's no mistaking the grizzled biker for anyone else. Tall, with a barrel chest, and wearing a black T-shirt with his cut over it, there’s a patch on the right side that says, “Prez.” The most striking part of him, though, is how he only has one good eye. The other is pupil-less, just white. I think most people would've worn a patch over it or something, but he doesn't seem to care. And the steely gray good eye is sharp enough for two. He comes our way. Reaper gives him a mock salute, but it's me he looks at first. I do my best not to stare.