Page 85 of Knocked Up by my Best Friend's Brothers

“That is actually sweet,” I mumble.

“You’re in good hands, Christa,” Spike says. “At least, that’s what it sounds like to me, anyway. While I don’t fully understand how the four of you are going to make it work, I do believe in love. Believe it or not.”

“Aw…” Teagan laughs.

“I’m serious.”

“Shoot, you were right, Christa. The green window is up!”

I input a series of commands from my keyboard and listen to the swishing sound of an email going out. “Perfect; I just sent it. Do you see Vince’s inbox on your screen?”

“I do,” she says.

“There should be an email coming in.”

Spike holds back a laugh. “I wonder what Vince Mancini will say when he learns you hacked into his email without even setting foot in his office.”

“I’ll ask him once he’s locked up for life and rotting in prison,” I mutter and keep writing new code commands, as I’m up against a ticking clock.

“Got the email,” Teagan says.

I nod once. “Great. Open it, then forward it to every contact on the list I saved on the laptop. It will take a little while but just copy-paste the addresses into the BCC box only, then follow the instructions I left there.”

“On it,” Teagan says.

Minutes flow by in heavy silence. I listen to the clicking sounds of Teagan’s keyboard in parallel to mine and Spike’s. It’s a symphony of sorts, a song of righteous vengeance and a cry for justice.

“Okay, done. I sent it,” Teagan replies.

“Perfect. You need to get out of there,” I reply. “Your job is done.”

“Cool. I’ll see you two for coffee bright and early,” she says. “You’re working from home this week, right, Christa?”

“Yes. Thank you, Teagan. Just text me when you’re home safe.”

“And remember,” Spike interjects. “Don’t let anyone—”

“Follow me. Yes, I know!”

With Teagan now offline, I allow myself a deep breath of pure relief. We’re in. Spike’s worm will be opened sometime within the next six hours. It doesn’t matter who opens it within the Mancini organization. It will start a chain reaction in the background, and in less than forty-eight hours, I’ll be able to breach their main systems.

Spike and I will comb through it and organize it in several archived folders, each with their own encryptions and topics. One by one, these folders will be sent to key federal employees within the government—DEA, FBI, NSA, as well as the LA District Attorney. It will be the shitstorm the Mancinis didn’t see coming, and I will enjoy watching them burn.

“We’re looking good so far,” Spike tells me, still in the chatroom. “You should go home, if you’re done, Christa. We don’t wantyour beaus to wake up and find you missing.”

“Are you sure? I’m just about to input the last line of code.”

“Of course. Go to sleep. You and your baby need the rest.”

I smile softly and log out of my computer. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow.”

I end the call and slip the phone into my purse. Just as I’m about to turn the computer off, the door opens. I gasp, expecting to see River or Cassius or Nathan—assuming one or all of them woke up and realized I wasn’t there. In my mind, I’m already formulating a decent excuse.

But it’s not any of the Hawthorne brothers.

“Christa, honey.”

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