Page 59 of Zen's Crash

“Since you think you’re such a great hacker, you should know every computer can be hacked on a long enough timeline. I’ve never met a computer my encryption program couldn’t eventually break.”

The smile falls off his face as fast as it showed up. “Look, dude, we can work this out.”

“We hold all the cards. You’ve got nothing left to bargain with. I’ll get the evidence we need, and then you and your old man are getting a dirt nap.”

“The first rule of negotiating is there has to be a carrot as well as a stick. Otherwise, there’s no motivation to meet in the middle.”

“It’s cute that you still think we’re negotiating.”

Siege interjects, “The van’s here. Let’s get him loaded and chained up. We can continue this interrogation at the clubhouse.”

We take him outside and load him up. Rage comes up to me the minute I get into the van and opens his paramedic bag. “He got you pretty good. There’s a four-inch gash down your shoulder. It’s gonna need stitches.”

Moving my shoulder to see if it still works, I tell him, “Just wrap it to stop the bleeding for now. You can stitch it up at the clubhouse.”

“You got it, brother. He cut you almost to the bone. Does it hurt?”

“Fuck no. It just pisses me off, that’s all.”

“Yeah,” he says as he wraps gauze tightly around my arm. “Injuries like these release endorphins. It keeps you from feeling the pain for a while. You’ll be feeling it about the time we reach the clubhouse.”

“Well, that’s something to look forward to,” I say sourly.

Rage just chuckles and keeps working on my arm as our club brothers bring Terrance in and chain him to a metal bar running along the side of the van. He’s cursing under his breath, but my club brothers are practically jovial. In our world, we went hunting for a bad guy and caught him. We’ll go back to the clubhouse, drink, celebrate, and bang our old ladies. It’s the cycle of renewal we live for.

Terrance tries to talk to me, but I shut that shit down. He’s just looking to lie to me and get inside my head. I’m not having any of that, so I tell him, “Shut the fuck up, or I’ll have our club medic tranq you.”

“Why you gotta be that way? I’m not who you think I am.”

I jerk my chin at Rage, and he pretends to reach for his medical bag.

Terrance panics. “Fuck, alright. I’ll shut the hell up.”

Rage begins to clear up the packaging his bandages came in, along with the bloody pads he used to stem the bleeding and clean my wound. I settle back and replay the situation in my mind. This guy has admitted to being MadHitter. This is what I know about him so far: He’s Lexi’s long-lost cousin. His mom said he’s a bad seed. He cozied up to Lexi over the last few years. He created dirty comics with her face on nude bodies. He’s done that with loads of women. He posedas a food-delivery driver and tried to get into her house. He stalked Lexi and installed a two-way, disappearing, encrypted communication program on her computer to eavesdrop on her. Either he or his dad killed Lexi’s father and wanted to kill her too. Killing their two closest relatives makes me think money is involved somehow.

All that’ enough to make me hate this fucker. I decide right here and now that I’m not giving him any quarter. This fucker and his old man thought they could box Lexi in, probably like they’ve done to other women before. I am not gonna let them get to her. I’ll kill both of them before I let them touch a hair on her head. She’s been through enough already.

Chapter 24

Lexi

I’m desperate for Zen to come back to the clubhouse safe and sound. Although talking to my friends helps keep me from going into a full-blown panic, I can’t stop worrying about him and his club brothers. I can’t get the idea out of my head that it only takes one stray bullet to take him out. I can’t bear the thought of him dying while trying to keep me safe. The guilt is eating me up inside.

I’m so nervous that I feel like I’m going to throw up. I barely make it to the restroom before the contents of my stomach come up. After I finish heaving, I wash the sink out and pull an antacid out of my pants pocket. I’ve been eating them morning, noon, and night for the last week or so. I guess all this stress is giving me stomach trouble. When I’m feeling presentable, I head back to the bar.

When I finally hear the throaty roar of multiple motorcycles in the distance, I rush out of the clubhouse to meet Zen. Only there’s another brother riding his bike. I don’t see Zen anywhere. My legs give way, and I fall to my knees and start rocking back and forth. He can’t be dead. He can’t be. The prospect riding his bike walks over and stoops beside me. “Zen’s okay. The fucker we were after knifed him in the shoulder. I had to bring his bike back for him. He’ll be along in the van shortly. Our medic is tending to him. He’s gonna be okay, alright?”

I nod, wiping at the tears streaming down my face. “Thanks for telling me. I’ve been really worried about him.”

His hand comes out to land on my shoulder, and he gives me a little squeeze. “Of course you were worried. You’re a good old lady. The good ones always worry.”

When he walks away, I realize that I am a good old lady. I love Zen, and I think he loves me. So, when the van pulls in, I go running right out to meet it. Their medic helps him out of the van—or tries to—but Zen pushes him away. “I’m not fucking feeble. Both my legs work just fine.”

“Alright, man, you don’t have to get fucking snippy.”

I want to throw my arms around him, but I approach cautiously because I don’t want to make his injuries worse. Yet as soon as I get within reach, he pulls me into his arms. I let him because I’m just so relieved to see him alive and whole.

“It’s so fucking good to see you, Lexi. Are you okay? That twisted old man didn’t hurt you, did he?”

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