Page 17 of Rue

“And you’ve done this?”

“No, of course not!”

Geo snorted. “Why not if it’s so easy?”

“First, I don't have the setup I’d need for it. Second, you only do this if you have nothing to lose. I have everything to lose,my family depends on me.”

“But you have them programs written already, don't you?” he asked, his eyes sharp as he leaned on the desk and crossed his arms.

“No… I know how to, but no. I’ve never written them. They’d take a minute, and I wouldn’t want anyone else getting hands on them.”

“You have time… how many months till that kid drops? You have all kinds of time.”

“I’m not doing that for you.”

He chuckled then. “You think I’m’a let you just get hands on a computer and ask for help or somethin’? I ain’t stupid, Rue. This is all hypothetical, right? Here’s what we doin’, though. I’m’a get you a paper, and you gonna write down all that shit you just said about why what he was doin’ won’t work. I’m’a double check you an’ if you lyin’? It won’t be good for you, Rue. It’s gon’ suck, in fact. So how ‘bout you take this minute to say if you was just fuckin’ with my shit. I won’t go so hard on ya.”

“I’m not lying, I don't lie,” Sailor scowled at him.

“Nah? So you wasn’t tryna get out of shit by sayin’ your moms would die without you?” he asked with another snort of derision.

“I went there,” Davon spoke up. “She couldn’t move. I had to spoon-feed her after she freaked out thinkin’ I was gonna rob her. She could hardly breathe, and I hadda call Social Services when I left because Say wasn’t exaggerating. Her mom is dying, and she cain’t even get out of her bed on the couch.”

Geo was scowling at him as he spoke, but he looked back down at Sailor as soon as he finished. “You see her gramma too?”

“No… she told me her info, and I’m gonna call Social Services for her too.”

“Yeah. Aight. How ‘bout you go get on that, then? Mig, give him next week's shit. Keep your fuckin’ phone handy, boy. Be here fuckin quick if I need you, yeah?”

“Yeah, man, always,” Davon agreed with a nod of respect as Mig led him out the front door.

Sailor looked up at Geo nervously as she hugged herself, and he smirked down at her.

“Marc, get her some paper. Gabe, get up so she can sit down. Pencil, too, dipshit. Write it out, Rue. Be specific.”

Sailor swallowed hard but sat down and started writing. Geo took hold of the chair behind her and leaned over her, his mouth close to her neck. At first, she thought he was trying to make her nervous, but he was watching her write.

“What’s a proxy?” he demanded.

“Think of it like a P.O. Box when you don't want people to know where you live,” she mumbled, continuing to write. “But it’s for Internet and not mail. The more you have, the more people will chase their tails, from P.O. Box to P.O. Box, never finding a real address, you know? And you don't use them very long, you don't want them to be able to be traced, so you keep switching them out…”

“Just like your programs.”

“Exactly.”

“What’s API mean?”

“Programming interface… are you going to let me do this or ask questions?”

“You best watch how you speak,” he chuckled. “Remember what got you into this. What’s OS?”

“Operating System,” she huffed impatiently. “That’s, like, super basic. Everyone should know that.”

“Why the fuck should I know or care about that shit?” Geo demanded. “Computers ain’t my thing, never hadda mess with this shit.”

“Okay, boomer,” she mumbled.

“You just call me old?” he asked darkly, going still.

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