Page 39 of Sypher

“He’s telling you the truth, Mr. Scribe. Mr. Enigma deactivated his account.”

“So, that just leaves this other fuck,” Priest spoke up.

“Yes, Mr. Priest. Whoever this HungryMan493 is, he’s dangerous. He’s got several other websites he belongs to, always using the same screen name.”

“Rookie mistake.” Gunner smirked, shaking his head.

“Look, gentlemen, I can’t stress this enough. Having online accounts opens you to identity theft, fraud, and a slew of other crap. You may think you are safe, but you’re not. If any of you have online accounts, you need to make damn sure your logins don’t lead back to you and choose passwords that are unbreakable. Passwords need to be at least eighteen digits long. And please don’t use the phrasepasswordor any variation of it. That’s the first thing hackers look for to break into your accounts. And for the love of God, no pictures. With one picture, hackers can not only find out exactly where you are but create whole new identities. Just don’t do it.”

“Well, shit,” Gunner groaned. “Now I have to change my Facebook password.”

Rolling his eyes, King sat forward. “You heard Sypher. I want all of you to check your accounts and make sure they are secure. Sypher will be with us until we catch this fucker. You need help. Go see him. He will secure your shit so tight the NSA won’t be able to find you. Got me?”

Everyone nodded as they all got up and filed out of church.

Closing my laptop with a soft click, I rose to leave, but King’s hand on my arm stopped me.

“Hold up, Sypher. We need to talk.”

Sitting back down, King waited until the last brother left, the heavy oak door groaning shut behind him.

King reclined in his chair, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he finally spoke. “When was the last time you went home, kid?”

Unsure of his intentions behind this particular line of questioning, I decided to respond with complete honesty. “When I helped the club get rid of theSociety, so at least a year. Why?”

“You talk to your family recently?”

“I was playingCall of Dutywith Jackson and Digger when you called. What’s going on, King?”

“They tell you what happened to Sunny?”

Sitting up straighter, a cold trickle of unease snaked its way down my spine, raising goose bumps on my arms. “What happened to Sunny?”

“She was in a really bad car accident a few weeks back. She’s on life support at Rosewood Memorial. Sandman is refusing to leave her side. Thought since you were here, you’d like to stop by and see her.”

With a smooth motion, King slid a set of keys toward me, then added, “Go. I’ve got this. Go see your family, kid.”

I nodded, snatching the cool metal of the keys as I hurried out of the clubhouse, leaving the quiet hum of conversation behind me.

The drive to Rosewood Memorial was quick, the scenery blurring past in a flash of green and gray. I had seriously considered driving across the state line into Tennessee to confront my family, but I knew, with a certainty that bordered on disgust, that the majority of them would undoubtedly be at the hospital.

And I was right.

Because the second the elevator doors opened into the Intensive Care Unit, there they were.

All of them.

“Danny?” I was vaguely aware of Stella’s gasp as my brothers, startled by my unexpected appearance, spun around quickly.

The second Bailey stepped forward, I raised my hand with a sneer, stopping him in his tracks. “Don’t.”

As I angrily marched away, I walked toward the nurses’ station, where I discovered Savage, Jess, and Claudia engagedin a quiet conversation with Valhalla, the president of the Nyght Nymphs Motorcycle Club. In the private sector, Dr. Abigail Robinette was renowned as one of the country’s foremost neurosurgeons. However, her professional achievements never overshadowed the personal connection we shared and to me, she was always just Val.

Due to my unique skill set, I had collaborated with Val and her club on numerous occasions in the past. Their projects frequently required my expertise in various capacities. Because Valhalla was not only one of my favorite clients, who compensated me generously for my work, but also one of my dearest friends, my relationship with Val transcended the typical client-service provider dynamic.

Upon seeing me, Jess immediately ran over, her eyes red and puffy from crying, embracing me in a tight hug.

As Jess cried in my arms. I glanced at Val, whose head shook ever so slightly, a gesture that spoke volumes. With a heavy sigh, I pulled Jess closer, holding her tightly as her tears flowed freely.

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