Page 18 of Byte

“Oh, that’s clever,” Lauren said and took a seat on the couch.

“I’ll just finish up in the kitchen and get out of your hair,” I said.

“I’m sorry, Byte. This totally slipped my mind.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have some work I need to catch up on anyway,” I told her. I didn’t, but it gave me an excuse to be close by so I could eavesdrop without looking like a creep. I opened upmy laptop and pretended to work while Gabby went back to the living room to study with Lauren.

“What’s going on, Gabby? It’s been days since I’ve heard from you, and then I show up here to find you with some super hot guy being all protective.”

“Oh, stop. It’s nothing like that. I told you my sister and her family were going on a trip to Scotland. I went home for the weekend to help her pack and see them off. Monday was hell at work, and Tuesday at the office wasn’t much better,” Gabby explained.

“If you say so.”

“I do. Can we study now?” Gabby asked, sounding irritated.

Throughout the evening, Lauren strayed off topic several times, mostly to ask Gabby about me. How she met me. How long she’d known me. How old I was. If I was seeing anybody. Each time, Gabby gave her a vague answer and redirected her attention back to whatever they were studying.

When Lauren finally left, I could tell Gabby was relieved to have her gone. “That was exhausting.”

“Why’d you lie to her?” I asked.

“I may not be a member of the club, but I’ve been around long enough to know to keep things to myself when something’s going on,” she explained.

“Yeah, you’re right about that.”

7

BYTE

“What the hell?” I shouted when we walked out to my truck the following morning. All four tires were flat.

“Did someone slash them?” Gabby asked.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what happened.”

She glanced at the time on her phone and back to me. She didn’t have to say anything. Her thoughts were written all over her face. She didn’t want to be late, but she didn’t want to leave me to deal with the tires.

“Come on,” I said and guided her back to the house. “We’ll take your car, and I’ll deal with this when I get back.” Thankfully, her car had been safely parked in the garage.

Gabby was unusually quiet on the ride to the office. I had a feeling she was blaming herself for what happened to my truck, and I couldn’t let her continue to do so for the whole day. Before she got out of the car, I reached over and grabbed her hand. “This isn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it is,” she said quietly.

“No, it isn’t,” I insisted. “I get why you think it is, but trust me on this. It’s actually kind of a good thing.”

“How in the hell is having your tires slashed a good thing?”

“Typically, tire slashing is an act of rage. Angry people are sloppy, and sloppy people are easy to catch,” I explained, and gently squeezed her hand. “Go do your thing, and don’t worry about this. I’ll have it all taken care of before I come back to get you.”

“I’ll try,” she said and gave me a weak smile. “Thanks, Byte.”

I called Phoenix as soon as I pulled out of the parking lot and filled him in on the new developments.

“He slashed your tires? What a bitch move,” Phoenix said.

I chuckled. “That’s exactly what I thought.”

“How’d Gabby handle it?”

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