Page 60 of Mind Maze

When I get my phone back, I’ll have to find that out…

Caius

Romy is a damn knockout in the pale blue dress she picked up earlier today. When she came out of the dressing room, I was seconds from following her back in to rip it off her. The woman assisting her, though, beat me to it.

Now that we’re at the venue, I’m not surprised that everyone else also notices how gorgeous she is. The dress fits her lean, muscled form and reveals a whole lot of her sexy leg. Every time she takes a step, she flashes the whole place her sleek skin. My hand twitches to cover the nakedness, hiding her from everyone.

The attention she’s getting is good for me, though. Men and women alike are distracted as she sashays through the ballroom, each gawking at her. Some people whisper, no doubt asking if she’s famous or someone they should know. I like that she’s the topic of conversation. It gives me ample time to survey the people around her.

I scan the area for a restroom. I’ll need to wash my hands before I get caught shaking hands. The last thing I want is to pass her scent to every horndog in this room.

“Keep an eye on her, yeah?” I say to Theo. “I need to make a pitstop at the restroom.”

He nods, unable to keep his eyes off her ass. Shouldn’t be too difficult for him. Grunting my thanks, I excuse myself to head for the restroom. Her phone in my pocket continues to buzz with incoming texts. I wonder what else Bastian is sending her.

There was a method to what he sent and it affected her.

I’m going to find out exactly what it was.

I slip into the bathroom and make my way over to the sink. After enjoying a sniff to remind me of just how sweet she smells, I scrub up with soap and water. Once I’ve dried off, I pluck her phone from my pocket. Since I set up this phone, I bypass her lock screen with a code of my own.

Thanks, Dad.

When I told him I wanted to learn computers, he taught me everything he knew but also hired world-renowned hackers and programmers. I soaked it all up like a sponge. What fifteen-year-old boy doesn’t have dreams of hacking into corporations, websites, and people’s phones for fun? I quite enjoyed that as a teen.

Her text messages are full of Bastian’s videos. When I’d set up her phone, I created spoof contacts of her family that redirected to my phone. The program I created allowed me to reply back to them as her. As for her, I didn’t bother replying as them or forwarding on their messages to her. It was better for making her compliant if she was completely cut off from them.

So how did she get access to him?

I’m a bit miffed that she pulled this maneuver while I was at breakfast today. I pull up the data log of her phone, a background application that tracks everything she does, and confirm that it was added this morning, probably around the time Bastian was getting ready to leave.

Their messages between each other are benign. Then he randomly starts sending her videos to watch. I don’t click on any of them. I’m well-aware of their media tactics. They’re not what I’d expect—something like stories about my family or the like—but are instead about climate change crap. It’s an odd thing to share with her.

It makes me wonder if there’s something in the videos meant to make her compliant again. Neither Langston man was pleased she’d landed in my lap. Her father was agitated that her littlespell they’d put her under wore off. It could be a way to bring her back into their fold.

Despite everything I’ve personally done to Romy, the idea of other people doing it to her makes me vibrate with anger.

I shove her phone back into my pocket and head out of the bathroom. Another man is coming inside as I leave. His eyes remain fixed ahead and he walks with purpose. Something about his demeanor makes my skin crawl. I turn my head to watch him as he disappears behind the door.

He was military.

Part of the president’s security detail?

Possible. He’s dressed like me in a tuxedo. There’s no doubt in my mind, though, that he could be lethal with just his hands.

But something was off.

I felt it.

It’s easy to find my group. Romy has gathered a crowd of admirers. I’m okay with letting them get their fill so long as she goes home with me at the end of the night. I watch the bathroom door so I can see when the man comes back out. Seconds later, he emerges and scans the crowd.

He’s looking for someone.

His eyes skate past me like I don’t even exist. When he stops his search, I follow his stare to Romy.

Not again.

I glance over at Dad to see if he is responsible for this. He speaks to an older man, laughing as though he doesn’t have a worry in the world. If he were the one to have sent this man after Romy, I believe he’d be watching the entertainment unfold.

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