Page 68 of Emma's Element

“No,” Marcus answered. Not yet. He had emailed it to himself and Graham, though.

“Good,” Harrison said, deleting the video. Then he dropped it to the ground, smashing the phone with his boot.

Emma, holding her injured cheek in her bound hands, chuckled.

Harrison leveled his gaze on her. “Something amuses you?”

Emma nodded. “I think it’s quaint how you think that part of your problem is solved.”

“What is she talking about?” Charlie asked.

“Nothing digital is gone forever. Jeez, even kindergarteners know that nowadays. You think that deleting the video and destroying the phone actually got rid of it.” She laughed again.

“What is she talking about?” Charlie asked again, his panic growing.

Her gaze slowly turned to Charlie. “I’ll explain it so that even you, dickwad, can understand. Ever hear of the cloud? I’m not talking about those puffy things in the sky. I’m talking about the magical place in cyber la-la-land where all digital files languish. Most people have it set up on their phones that every picture or video taken gets uploaded to their own personal cloud vault, where it waits to be viewed again or downloaded somewhere else. Now, even if your digitally savvy brother hasn’t set that up yet, it doesn’t matter. Every file, every picture, every video taken on any digital device gets turned into a special type of?let’s use the word ‘code’ so the simpletons in the audience can understand. And that code, all those ones and zeroes, are just floating around out there, and anybody with half a skill can find them. Nothing digital is ever gone forever.” Brilliant. She was fucking brilliant . . . and so marvelously snarky. He loved it.

Marcus gazed at her, sure his love for her shone in his eyes. She gave him a sheepish smile and shrugged. “I thought everybody knew that.” He laughed, hardly believing this extraordinary woman was with him. He leaned over, pressing his lips to her temple. She snuggled closer to him, and he wished his hands were free so he could wrap his arms around her.

“Fuck, Dad. Do you think that’s true?” Charlie whined. He’d never noticed how annoying his brother’s voice was. As a kid, he’d never talked that much. He’d spent most of his time holed up in his room on his computer, lost in his video games. It was his escape from the hell they went through with their dad. But as he grew, he’d become even more of a lazy recluse. A momentary pang of remorse that he’d been unable to get his brother to turn his life around hit him. He had done everything possible for Charlie but eventually realized that for there to be change, Charlie had to want it for himself.

“Shut it, Charlie. It doesn’t matter. Let’s focus on getting what we came for.”

Colleen stepped forward with a sheaf of papers. “Here you go, Harrison.” While Harrison’s attention was on the papers in his hand, Marcus noticed his brother was growing increasingly agitated. He was pale and sweating profusely; his eyes kept darting to the door. The dipshit was getting ready to bolt.

Harrison threw the papers into his lap, drawing his attention away from Charlie. Marcus looked down at them, noticing a lawyer’s name in the header, then back up at his father. “What am I supposed to do with these?”

Harrison waved the little man towards Marcus. “Right. How can he sign anything with his hands tied behind his back?” Shorty dug Emma’s pocketknife out and cut through the tape. Stretch stepped forward and, without removing the old tape, secured his hands together, this time in front of him.

“Again, what am I supposed to do with these?” Marcus questioned.

“Sign them.”

Chapter twenty-four

“WhatexactlyamIsigning?”

“Your new will and testament.” Marcus picked up the papers and leafed quickly through them, noting most everything was bequeathed to Harrison. If he signed these, he wasn’t getting out of here alive. And he was sure Emma wasn’t either. He needed to figure a way out of this and fast.

Emma had said as soon as the weather cleared, the Nighthawks were flying up here as backup, and they could use that right about now. He glanced out the window. The snow had stopped during the night, and the sun was trying to break through the remaining clouds. He needed to stall his father and give them time to arrive.

“Yeah, no. I’m not signing these.”

Harrison raised his gun, pointing it directly at Emma. The minions did the same. “You will if you want your girl to live.” Shorty snickered again. Marcus narrowed his eyes and glared at the imbecile even as his heart hammered against his ribs.Come on, Nighthawks. We could use a little help here.

“Stop. Lower your guns,” Marcus pleaded. “Lower them, and I’ll sign.”

Marcus hated the triumphant expression on his father’s face. He hadn’t seen that tyrannical gleam in his eyes since the day before he’d stood his ground when he was twelve. And he’d hoped never to see it again. It made his stomach turn sour. Marcus swallowed down the bile and picked up the sheaf of papers.

“So, how’s this going to work? I sign these, then you wait for me to die so you can inherit everything?”

Shorty snickered. Harrison smiled slyly. “Something like that.”

“Um . . .” Emma started, raising her hands as if she had a question for the teacher.

“Fuck, what could she possibly have to say now?” Charlie complained as he paced.

“You don’t see the flaw in your plan?” she asked.

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