Page 46 of Taste of Addiction

“You gave me a new laptop, a new phone! New everything when you quarantined me away from the world! And now this happens?”

“To keep you hidden, Angie, not to mess with your accounts or your work,” Graham explains. “We had nothing to do with this. But someoneisresponsible. Someone did this to you with the intention to cause harm. This is not accidental.”

“What? Why? Why would someone do that?” I ask. “You don’t think this is a random act?”

“No,” Nic says, his tone serious.

My stress level marinates and boils, going full force at maximum velocity. All of my work over the course of three months is now hidden away on a tiny flash drive that stores my now corrupt files or corrupt device or corrupt-whatever-the-hell. My throat clenches, sobs rolling over my upper body, quivering to fight my emotions back down into control. I forfeit round one. The unladylike crying is turned on to full blast.

“We’ll figure out who did this,” Nic tries to comfort, but it is useless.

“Finding the person who did this is not going to fix my work. It is gone. And recreating it will be next to impossible.” In this moment, I wish Graham would ride in on his white horse and wave a magic wand and fix this nightmare. He always fixes my dilemmas—except this one. This one he can’t fix. I would relish the white-knight behavior and would even volunteer to groom and feed the stupid horse if I could just get my project back.

I get up from the sofa and try to find my phone. I stumble, nearly face planting.You are so out of it. My nerves, emotions, and motor skills are out of whack. My logical side goes on hiatus.

I start to crumble. My legs give out on my descent to the floor. I hear a curse vaguely echo in my ear. It feels like I am underwater, the air leaving my lungs in anger. Strong arms band around me at the waist and scoop me up like a small child. I get pressed to the chest of a muscular wall of steel, giving me a flicker of believable comfort. It is in this moment that I feel Graham’s love radiate from his core. In the moment, I feel safe—a sensation that rarely surfaces.

My head sinks against Graham’s shoulder, my mouth resting against his scruffy neck. I sniff the intoxicating aroma of mild soap. I will never tire of his scent. I snuggle in closer, like a kitten. His five o’clock shadow is my new favorite thing. I am center stage to enjoy it.

“Are you petting me?”

I let out a whimpering giggle. “Maybe.”

He kisses my cheek and then my ear, making me shiver with the remembered feeling of his lips on me.

“I’m glad you are here.” My words are barely a whisper. “I’m sorry I accused you and Nic of sabotaging my work.”

“It’s okay, baby,” he says, placing me back on the couch. “Is there any way your professor will give you an extension?”

“No, he’s a hard-ass. I had over an entire week off from classes for the fall break to work on this assignment. He won’t cut me an ounce of slack because I should know better. It’s my fault. I should have backed up my work in other ways. I’m a moron.”

“It’s not your fault someone maliciously attacked you, Angie,” Nic defends. “I’m going to keep your laptop so I can figure out the point of entry for how someone was able to add the keylogger. I just need time to analyze it.”

I nod. “Okay, but what am I supposed to use now if this machine is broken? I need to start writing something to hand in tomorrow.” A huge percentage of my grade is this draft. I am in over my head.

“You can use mine,” Graham suggests. “It’s in my bag.” He gets up from the couch and grabs his device out and then sets it on my lap. “It’s late and you should be sleeping. But I understand your desire to get something on paper."

“Thank you,” I mouth. I open the lid and a blank document and start typing. I lost all of my email accounts, so I also lost the victims’ emotional testimonies that were the backbone to my article. This all just sucks.

“You’re going to want to create new accounts and use strong passwords to secure the entry into them. If you use the same password to access any online banking or credit card management, you will want to log in to those accounts and change the password,” Nic explains. “I would also suggest using a password keeper that uses a two-factor authentication to access it. But we can set that up at a later date. Just know that none of this will protect you from an actual keylogger if you are prone to clicking on links that could actually be harmful.”

I nod to Nic. This is his thing. I thought Zander was nerdy for computers, but Nic takes it up a few more levels.

While the brothers talk amongst themselves, I lose myself in my writing and get as much as I can on paper. Something is better than nothing. I can print it out at the lab in the morning before my early private appointment with Dr. Williams.

I must have dozed off because when I wake, Nic is gone and Graham is gently placing his laptop on the coffee table. I look up at him, and he bends to kiss my forehead.

Before I am able to protest, he lifts me like a small child, one hand under my knees and the other on my back. He carries me up the steps and puts me down on the vanity in the bathroom, with my back to the mirror.

He puts his fingers on my cheeks, igniting the blush that already is inflamed. “You called him first.”

My eyes move to his. “Excuse me?”

His brow raises as his eyes narrow, studying my facial features in detail. “Zander. You called him first. Why?”

“It was a technical issue.” My short explanation doesn’t appease him.

“You know Nic and I have computer science backgrounds, albeit Nic’s is way more extensive.”

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