Page 79 of Hide and Seek
“He fucked up and the kid got away.”
“And what did you do?” he presses.
“I altered the feed like I was told. I got rid of all the footage that showed Jacob was there.” I pause for a few beats. “But I left evidence that someone tried to kill the kid.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Because I felt like shit for helping them kill someone who definitely doesn’t deserve it. I didn’t want them to get away with it, so I covered my tracks and left as much evidence as I could for the Rebels to use if they wanted to find him—Jacob, not the kid I helped them kill. They already knew him since he’s under their protection.”
“Is that the end of your involvement in the plot to kill him?”
“Mostly.” I lift one leg and hug my knee to my chest. “They had me put a tracker in his phone so I could keep tabs on him and tell them where he was when they were ready to try again. I gave them the info, but I made sure the kid wasn’t where he was supposed to be so they’d fail.”
“Why did you risk that? You had to know that would put you in danger if they realized what you did.”
“I know. But I couldn’t go through with it. I saw what he did to the kid the first time he tried to kill him, and it stayed with me. When they told me about the second plan, I just couldn’t be part of it, so I did what I could to help him and hoped to fuck they didn’t figure out that I was the one who screwed up their plans. And if they did figure it out, then I hoped to fuck that whatever they did to me would be quick.”
“Is that why you put the backdoor into your code? Because you were afraid of them?”
“Partly. I was desperate at that point. I knew they wouldn’t stop going after him until they killed him, and they’d keep using me to do it. I didn’t know if I’d be able to foil their plans again, and maybe this makes me a selfish asshole, but I knew they’d kill me once they were done, and I was desperate. I thought maybe someone would find it and realize that I wasn’t involved because I wanted to be and they might spare me and go after the guys who were really behind the hits.” I roll one shoulder in a shrug. “It was kind of my Hail Mary, and it worked because someone found it and used it. And I still have no idea who the fuck they are.” I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice at that last part.
He makes a thoughtful sound. “Interesting.”
“Interesting?” I ask incredulously. “That’s all you have to say after I tell you I helped people try to kill someone who didn’t do anything wrong?”
“What would you prefer I say?” I don’t miss the tinge of amusement in his voice, and I give the camera a flat look.
“I don’t know. Maybe that I’m awful and a terrible person, and I deserve all of this because of the shit I’ve done?”
“I could say that, but then I’d be lying. Do you want me to lie to you?”
“Well, no, but…”
“But?”
“But… I don’t know.” Letting my leg fall back to the floor, I rub one hand over my face tiredly.
“You were blackmailed into it, but you still did what you could to make catching them easier. And you went against them and foiled their plan even though you knew they’d kill you if they found out what you did. Is that accurate?”
“Yeah…”
“So how does that make you a terrible person? A terrible person wouldn’t have tried to help, and they never would have put themselves at risk. And unless you have some black hat hack jobs under your belt that I don’t know about, nothing about exposing a bogus charity is terrible, so why would you deserve bad things to happen to you when you didn’t do anything bad?”
I sit with that for almost a full minute, letting it percolate and roll around in my mind. “I…I don’t know?” I finally say.
“From where I’m sitting, you did what you could to fix a situation you had no control over. You didn’t have to do any of it, and the fact that you did and you still feel guilty about it proves you’re not a terrible person. You were just in a terrible situation.”
“I should pay you an hourly wage for being my therapist,” I say with a small smile. “I’ve been tearing myself up over that for months, and you literally took all that guilt and crap away in what, two minutes?”
“It helps that I don’t think like other people,” he says. “And I don’t see things the same way, so it’s easier for me to use logic instead of emotion. Logically, you did nothing wrong. It’s your emotions that are convincing you otherwise.”
I suck in a deep breath, then let it out in a rush. “You make a lot of sense.” A bubble of laughter escapes me, and I bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t start laughing hysterically.
“What was that for?” he asks.
“Mostly a release,” I tell him, fighting back more of those pesky releases. “And partly because I just realized how easy you are to talk to, and how I’ve never talked with anyone like this before.”
“What do you mean?”
