Page 46 of Hacker Beloved

“Xavier, a friend of mine. Has a former employee who is in a relationship with an absolute genius. There hasn’t been a code Willa can’t crack. She might be one of the strangest people I’ve met, but I trust her ability.”

Willa lived with her partners Thane and Lucas outside of London.

“When I spoke with Kat, she said Vincenzo owes her after Antonio and her helped find their missing children,” Paolo said.

I slid out of the passenger side door and headed for the entrance of the restaurant. Paolo was a step behind me.

Every table was filled at the front of the restaurant. The smell of freshly baked bread filled my nose as I headed straight for the back rooms. Just before I stepped through the employee entrance, a photo caught my attention. Not sure how I zeroed in on that one when the walls were covered with family portraits, but the woman looked so much like Zayla. I could only imagine it was her mother, with Zayla in her arms. I stared at the photo for a second before turning and heading down the hall that led to the back room. Vincenzo’s men blocked my path. Just before I demanded they move, Paolo pulled out his gun and leveled it at the guard on the right. “You won’t shoot us, Paolo. We are family.” The one blocking him stated.

Paolo didn’t answer. Instead, a loud bang filled the room, and the man dropped to the floor, clutching his leg. “Well, I guess I shot family.”

I glanced to my right. Paolo shrugged and stepped over the screaming man. We continued down the hall until we reached the end, and Paolo busted the door open.

Vincenzo had his gun pulled, and two men flanked his sides.

“Vincenzo, I’m calling in the favor you owe my family,” I announced.

“The fuck you are. You just shot one of my men. I’m pretty sure you just started a war between our families.”

I shook my head. “It was a flesh wound. Now are we going to talk about this favor…or do I need to give these two matching wounds?”

Vincenzo's jaw tightened, and the room filled with tension before he nodded toward the table.

“CJ and Zayla were taken this morning by the killer. I need your help accessing...” I paused. For a moment, a thought crossed my mind. It was a shot in the dark, but I wanted to try. I tapped my phone and found the screenshot I had taken of the video from the bank. “Do you know who this is?”

“Can’t be,” Vincenzo whispered. “She looks different, but I recognize the birthmark on the side of her neck. That’s Jasmin, Zayla’s sister. But that’s impossible because when we found her body, we had dental records checked.”

“Unless someone swapped out the information in the system. If Jasmin was to kidnap and kill someone, where in New York would she go?” I asked.

Paolo pulled the phone from my hand. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice that. Fuck, I know where she’d keep them. In Brooklyn, there’s an abandoned tunnel that leads to her father’s secret hideout.”

“Let’s go.” I waved toward the door.

I only hoped we weren’t too late.

* * *

CJ

I blinked against the haze clouding my vision, struggling to bring my surroundings into focus. After a moment, I realized I was staring at the ceiling, covered with a labyrinth of cobwebs. The few fluorescent bulbs that worked hummed.

Glancing to my right, I noticed a derelict ticketing window, its glass shattered, and graffiti sprawled over the once pristine white subway tiles. It dawned on me then that I might be in an underground subway station.

The musty odor of dampness and decay, coupled with the stale, unmoving air, confirmed my suspicions about my location. This place was a tomb of public transit, long since abandoned and forgotten. When I shifted the leather bindings cut into my wrists when I tried to move. I didn’t know how long I was out, but my muscles ached in protest from the position I was currently in. The hard cold table didn’t help the situation either. The events right before I passed out came crashing down as I remembered the SUV had filled with yellow smoke.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zayla’s fingers move. I swiveled my head and could see her strapped to a medical bed next to me. Her brown eyes fluttered open and locked with mine. Pure panic washed over her face. I whispered for her to stay quiet. She gave me a quick nod as tears streamed down her face.

Surveying the room, I spotted two silhouettes hunched over a table, engrossed in a stack of papers. Adjacent to their makeshift card table was a desk, on which a computer hummed quietly. A long black cord hung from the ceiling, snaking down to connect to the computer. The two figures seemed entirely absorbed in their work. I knew I had to seize this chance to escape.

I twisted my hand in the leather straps and didn’t care as it bit into my skin. The stakes were too high, and the only thing that mattered was to get Zayla out alive.

Asher had made me go through hours of training with Kat. I swore she used training techniques that weren’t probably sanctioned by any type of survival coach. When I’d called her out on it, she told me I would thank her one day. I bit the inside of my cheek as I pulled my wrist so hard that the metal buckle of the strap cut through my hand. I could feel blood as it trickled down my wrist. Kat had said during training, a little blood loss to get out of a situation is better than losing all your blood when they cut off your head. At the time, I’d thought she was a little dramatic.

My fingers started to slip through the cuff, and I let out a small sigh as I freed my hand. Once my hand was free, I slipped out of the rest of my restraints. I slid off the table and was next to Zayla in two steps. I freed her hand and her second. She sat up and unlatched her right foot while I worked on her other one. When the last strap was off, I pulled her into my arms and off the table.

“We have to go by them to escape. No matter what, I want you to run. Don’t look back even if you think I’m hurt. Get to Asher,” I whispered.

Zayla shook her head. “I’m not leaving you. We leave together.”

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