Page 87 of Savage Seduction

I shake my head and smile. No matter how much my bestie protested, she would never be able to let the cult go until she found out everything there was to know about them.

“Lay it on me.”

“Meet me at the Los Angeles Central Library. Six o’clock tonight.”

“Why there?” I ask.

“I don’t want to risk accessing the dark web again from Nana’s house. We both know that wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Agreed.”

“I’ll bring some of my equipment and we can use their public server along with my multilevel VPN and wit, I think it’ll work. Last night I couldn’t sleep so I wrote a program to keep changing our login location. Whoever is tracking us… it’ll send them on a wild goose chase.”

“It’ll still mean putting yourself in danger. Are you sure you want to do that? I’d be sick if anything happened to either of you.”

London doesn’t respond for a few moments. “I know what I’m getting into, and I don’t give a shit. Listen to me, Max. I am not ever going to rest until I know who the hell assaulted us and almost killed Nana. Not knowing is unacceptable.”

“I agree, but you’re going to need to manage your expectations.”

“In what way?” Her tone is borderline hostile, but I don’t blame her; she’s still pissed off and she has every right to be.

“Even if we find out who was responsible for what happened, there might not be anything we can do about it.”

She sighs. “I know, but I can’t live in fear and be constantly wondering who it was. Who is still out there. At least I can get a name or names of people to avoid, keep track of… you get me on this?”

“Completely.”

“Six tonight then,” she says.

“I’ll be there.” I disconnect the call and start the car. Looking down at my phone, I sigh. I'm going to reach out one more time, but then that’s it. I type a quick message to Ben asking if we could speak later tonight. I hit send, put the phone back in my pocket, and pull out of the motel parking lot.

I can’t imagine going to work and paying attention to setting up the exhibit, giving it the needed brain power it deserved. Instead, I call in sick. Now, with my day free from responsibility and without a destination in mind, I take my time driving through the city. I take in sights I hadn’t been to in years. Point Dume, Palos Verdes, Santa Monica Pier—I'm like a tourist in a city I’d grown up in. Up and down the coast I drive, stopping long enough to take in the views and daydream about this entire shit show being over with.

I check the time. There’s enough time to stop for a coffee and then get to the library. Parking is always hit or miss in Los Angeles unless you're willing to pay an arm and a leg for it, so I might need to circle the block a few times.

I arrive with minutes to spare. As if luck is finally on my side, a spot opens up around the corner from the library. With a brisk pace, I carry my coffee in one hand and an iced latte for London in the other. Rounding the corner of the street, I hurry over to the automatic doors and enter the building. Assoon as the doors close behind me, all noise from the streets is silenced.

The expansive open courtyard of the library is so big and full of people walking the hallways, but barely a sound can be heard. Looking up, I see there are multiple floors of business offices and library storage. Escalators lead down to other areas of the library based on what you are looking for or researching. Outside each entry point, people sit utilizing the free WIFI with their laptops.

“Did you bring me a coffee?” London says as she enters the building behind me. The smile on her face is both genuine and excited. “You don’t have any idea how badly I need this right now. I got no sleep last night.” She takes the drink and sips, sighing heavily, punctuating her delight with feigned weak knees.

“I know my bestie almost as well as she knows herself.”

“Better,” she says. “Okay, we should get going.”

“I haven’t been in here for years. Do you have a good spot we can do this without people watching us?” I ask.

“Never can tell with the library, but usually the area containing tax law and accounting is pretty light this time of day.”

“Great,” I say. “Let’s go.”

I follow her and we go down three flights of escalators, enter the glass-walled section, and then weave our way through aisles of books and banks of computers. London points to a few glass-walled, private study rooms along the back wall.

The rooms are all unoccupied, so we choose the one farthest from the rest. It sits near the back of the expansive room. Closing the door, I turn and watch London set up multiple computers. She connects everything and taps in commands with the ease and deftness of a true hacker, computer-nerd.

“I think we’re ready,” London says, turning to face me. “Ithink we can evade most anyone for an hour… once they start hunting us. My program is pretty high-tech, but this organization is obviously well-equipped.”

“I’m ready when you are,” I say.

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