Love and Wargames: A Bad Boy Hacker Romance (12 page)

“A concerned neighbor called Dani to tell her about a strange man in glasses climbing our fence.”

“Don’t you rich bastards have anything better to do than spy on your neighbors all day?”

“Apparently not,” he answers. “You’re going to fix it, right?”

“Of course. I just needed…
a distraction.
”

“Ahh, jeez,” he mumbles, recognizing my tone. “What’d you do?”

“What’d
I
do?!” I spit. “You mean what’d
Caleb
do?”

“What happened? Is she okay?”

“She’s
fine
,” I say, rolling my eyes. “So am I, by the way, since you’re so full of concern.”

“Please tell me you didn’t do something stupid.”

I pause to admire their giant kitchen. Stainless steel appliances. Hardwood floors. I could definitely move in here for a while. Damn place is so big, they probably won’t even notice I’m here. “Define
stupid
.”

“Tell me what you did and I’ll tell you if it was stupid.”

I lay my bag down on the cabinet and check the refrigerator for something strong and alcoholic. “I kind of…” I bite my tongue for a moment,
“slept with her.”

“Already?” Fox asks. “It’s been like two hours.”

“Hey, there’s no one more surprised about that than I am, dude.”

“Whatever happened to
never give a second chance to a girl with a boy’s name
?” he chuckles.

“I never said…” I pause. “Actually, that sounds exactly like something stupid I’d say.” I find something imported stashed in the door and grab two bottles of it. “Where’s your bottle opener?”

“Top drawer, left of the fridge,” he answers. I slide open the drawer and snatch the bottle opener off the top before shoving it closed. “Although, you probably shouldn’t be drinking right now considering the circumstances.”

“She said the same thing,” I point out. “Didn’t stop her from tearing my pants off.”

“And how exactly did that lead to you sulking around my kitchen?”

I plop down onto the couch in the living room, my eyes once again scanning the unfamiliar surroundings of their quiet, yet echoey, home. “We got married.”

There’s a long, heavy pause.
“
It’s been
two hours…”

“No—” I shake my head. “Not today.
Before.”

“Yeah…” he chuckles. “I know, Box.”

I raise a brow. “You know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“How did you know?”

“I worked for the most dangerous criminal organization in the world. I had more than enough means to check in on you two every so often.”

“I feel so violated…” I joke. My eyes fall to a picture frame sitting on a short end table across the room, instantly gravitating towards it like a magnet. I push off the couch and wander over to get a better look. “Two years ago,” I mutter. “Right after you
died
… they shipped us both back to the States and they dropped us off at the airport in
Vegas
, of all places….” I chuckle. “I thought it was a sign, she thought I was an
idiot
but she said yes anyway.” I grab the frame, once again overwhelmed with crippling nostalgia at the desert sand surrounding the three of us. It’s a silly photo — completely unprofessional given the setting — but I can think of plenty of times overseas when that was the norm. Fox stands in-between myself and Caleb with his arms wrapped around our shoulders, holding the three of us together like he always did. “I dunno, without you around, we just kind of
panicked
. Needed something to cling to so we chose each other.”

“Why didn’t you tell anybody?”

I set the frame back down. “Three days later, she kicked me out. Three days after
that
…” I sigh. “I haven’t seen her since.”

“You’re still married?”

I smile. “Technically, yeah. She wanted to divorce, but… I’ve been avoiding that.” He says nothing as I roam the room with restless feet. “Fox, I need to ask you something. It might sound weird but just bear with me…”

“Go ahead.”

“What are you scared of? Like — worst case scenario, worst nightmare you can think of. What is it?”

“Well, that’s easy,” he says, his voice low.

“Dani?”

“Yeah. Losing her — or even worse…” he pauses. “Even worse would be the thought of putting her through losing me…
again.
”

“But still, you stay with her even though you know that could happen any day now?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve cheated death once already,” he answers. “That doesn’t happen twice.”

I bite my lip. “Right…”

“Box, we don’t get a lot of time in this world,” he says. “Especially people like us. You live the life you can while you can.”

“If only Caleb thought the same way, man,” I chuckle. “She’s got it in her head that she has to push me away.”

“Then you go to her and you convince her otherwise. Dani and I have our fair share of problems, believe me, but… I live each day with her as if it’s my last. You two should do the same.”

Christ. He’s right. As usual.

Caleb Fawn might be a high-maintenance and downright frustrating woman but she’s
my
woman. Always has been — whether she cares to admit it or not.

“So, tell me, Fox…” I say, “did I do something stupid?”

“Only if you don’t fix it, Boxcar.”

I chug the rest of the bottle and set it down on the table beside the old photograph. “Your house kinda sucks, dude,” I say. “I’m a little disappointed.”

“Have you found the theater yet?”

I pause. “You have a
theater
?”

“In the basement. Check it out —
later
. Now, go find Caleb. I don’t like the idea of either of you being alone with the Harts out there looking for you.”

“She’ll be
fine
…”

“Box.”

I sigh. “All right. I will return to
my wife
.”

“Well, that sounds weird.”

“I don’t know,” I smile. “I kinda like the sound of it.”

Chapter 12

Caleb

Los Angeles

Present Day

My husband is fucking idiot.

God, I hate the sound of that…

ILOVEYOU? I-
fucking
-LOVEYOU? Since when did we ever say that each other? Even on our wedding night, the L-word didn’t come up once and I liked it that way. Not that I never felt it for him but I don’t waste time on redundancy. It goes against my training. Every second counts during times of war. One second wasted could mean your death and the deaths of everyone around you. If something is a given, you don’t take the time to express it because the ones that matter should already know and the ones that don’t probably aren’t worth the effort.

Then again, he’s right. We’re not out in the desert anymore.

The L-word doesn’t matter when nothing else works. I came from a family that looked perfect on the outside.
Love
this.
Love
that. But there was darkness lurking around every corner waiting to remind you it exists. For years, I thought that’s how the world worked. Then I met Fox. He had his own bit of darkness following him around and for the first time in my life, I knew what it was like to have a friend.

Then Boxcar crashed into my life, along with the L-word.

Damn son-of-a-bitch.

I stare across the room at my television but I haven’t managed to turn it on yet. I still can’t get past the way he said it. Head down, eyes just barely open. He couldn’t even look at me but I could tell he wanted to.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

Why is that so hard for me to say?

I push off the couch, grab my phone, and slide on my shoes. It’s far too quiet up here and I’m starting to get tinnitus in my ears. My fingers are also twitching with restlessness. There’s only one thing that’s always managed to calm me down and luckily, I’ve got a whole arsenal of weapons stashed downstairs in need of cleaning.

I bounce down the stairs, tying my hair back into a loose ponytail as I go. The
back room
of my shop is a little-known secret — one that I’ve managed to keep quiet for the most part. I have a few elite clients that pop in now and again to pick up the latest tactical gear and weaponry (the most recent being the newly resurrected Fox Fitzpatrick). It’s not the most legitimate of black market business practices but when you’re in as much debt as I am, you play to your strengths and my military expertise makes me a hell of a lot more trusting than the teenage street gangs around here.

I step into my shop and squeeze behind the counter, headed towards the back room with a dusting cloth wrapped in my hand when the hairs stand up on my neck. I pause, sensing the slow, quiet movement across the room — smack dab in the middle of my very closed pawn shop.

“Hello, Ms. Fawn.”

I size the woman up before I even turn around. My eyes dart left and right, scanning every reflective surface around me. She’s petite like me but, also like me, not the kind you want to fuck with. Tight jeans, even tighter black shirt. Sporty hair the color of spilled fruit juice on white carpet. And her eyes. Knowing, experienced.

Deadly.

I turn around and she grins at me. “We’re closed on Sundays.”

“I know.”

“Come back tomorrow.” I toss the cleaning cloth onto the counter between us.

“I’m not here for…” she points a finger and draws a line across the nearest shelf, “whatever the hell this stuff is.”

“Then what do you want?”

She wipes her finger on her jeans. “I’m looking for your husband.”

This must be Lilah Hart. My brain works in the background, calculating how fast it would take for me to secure a reasonable weapon. I’ll need five seconds minimum to get to the back room but she could easily scale the counter in less than three. “I don’t have a husband.”

“The state of California seems to think otherwise.”

I shrug. “We separated years ago. I haven’t seen him since.”

Her little cartoony eyes squint at me. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“He flew into L.A. early this morning,” she says. “He didn’t stop by?”

“Nope.”

“Bummer.” She heaves a tiny, defeated breath. “Any idea where he’d go?”

“It’s a big city. Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have some work to do and you’re trespassing so if there’s nothing else…”

Lilah’s lips twitch to the side but she doesn’t move. “Actually, I didn’t just come here looking for
Bartholomew Carson
. There’s a much bigger fish I’m after.”

I point behind her. “In that case, I have a decent selection of antique fishing lures in the corner. Take your pick.”

Impatience coats her painted eyes but it’s gone just as soon as it appears. “Caleb, where is Fox Fitzpatrick?”

I tilt my head, feigning confusion. “He’s dead.”

She rolls her eyes. “Try again, honey.”

“No, really,” I chuckle. “Two years ago. He was killed in action overseas. I was there.”

Lilah inhales all the way to the bottom of her lungs and takes a short step closer to the counter. She lays her fingers against the glass, leaning over in a decent attempt at intimidating me. “I know that’s bullshit, Caleb. I know he’s alive and I know your husband made contact with him in Colorado a few weeks ago. Now, I’m tired and I’m cranky and I’m getting really bored of this shit…”

“Sounds
awful,
” I quip.

“Tell me where he is and I’ll let you walk away.”

“Glendale Avenue,” I say. “Forest Lawn Memorial. That’s where you can find Fox — his empty box, anyway. From what I remember, there wasn’t much left of him to ship back home.”

Her hand falls to her side and she reaches behind her, obviously to rest her hand on the weapon she’s got stashed behind her back. “You’re not doing yourself any favors protecting him, Caleb.”

I brace my toes, ready to move. “Feels pretty good though,
Lilah
.”

She pauses and her white teeth drag across her bottom lip. “You know, I’m curious… Just between us girls.” Her brow crinkles. “Why
Carson
? Don’t take this the wrong way but you could seriously do better—”

“Boxcar.”

“What?”

“His name is
Boxcar
,” I say, “and you picked the wrong morning to mess with me,
Gidget
.”

Her bicep flexes and I know she’s starting her draw. I reach forward quickly to snatch her shoulder and force her down against the glass but she’s much faster than that brutish man last night. Lilah twists out of my grasp and draws her pistol to point it at my face.

I dodge behind the counter, reaching beneath it to grab the baseball bat hidden out of sight as two bullets strike the wall behind me, followed closely by another that shatters the glass counter and pierces the floor near my head.

I grip the bat and push off the floor, swinging quickly to strike her outstretched hand before she can pull off another shot. It connects with her knuckles and she growls with pain as the pistol slips from her fingers and flings across the room to the other side.