Page 23 of Make Them Bleed
“Arrow knows everything,” she says quietly, staring out the window. The streetlights strobe across her profile. Guilt punches me. Here I am lying to her face while she praises me.
Carlo slows at a grimy one-story house, halfway through a roof replacement that looks abandoned mid-hammer.ELIJAH123inreal-life form. We thank him, slap five-star promises, and step onto the sidewalk.
Juno tugs her jacket tight. “Okay. We just look from here, right?”
“Correct.” I scan. Two cars in the cracked driveway, fading bumper stickers for a local high school marching band. Curtains half-drawn, TV glow inside. Wind rattles a chain-link gate.
Then the front door opens. Out waddles who I'm assuming isElijah—hunched, lanky, wearing Pikachu pajama pants, dragging a trash bin. Kid can’t be older than eighteen. His earbuds blast tinny rap.
Juno’s shoulders sag. “He’s a baby.”
“Cyber fanboys start young.”
She steps forward anyway, determination hardening her posture. “He might know something.”
I exhale, tug my hoodie higher, and follow. When Elijah sees us approaching, he freezes, earbuds dangling. Recognition flashes across his acne-speckled face.
“Holy crap—Juno Kate?” Voice cracks. “I watch your livestream breakdowns! Uh—watched, I guess.” His expression crumples, apology shimmering. “I’m…sorry about Arby.”
Juno forces a smile. “Thanks, Elijah. Can we talk?”
His gaze snaps to my mask. “Why’s Herbert Hoover here?”
“Economic turmoil’s making a comeback,” I deadpan through the modulator.
The kid snickers, and pushes his glasses up. “Okay, that’s kinda funny.”
We guide him to the porch steps. Porch light spills sickly yellow over peeling paint. Elijah hugs the trash lid like a shield.
Juno keeps her tone gentle. “Elijah, we found your username linked to some aggressive comments on Arby’s channel.”
His eyes widen. “Whoa—those skull emojis? That wasn’t hate. That was my gamer clan dropping support. Like,SkullSquad stands with Arby.It was a thing.”
Juno frowns. “You never met her?”
“I wish.” He pulls out his phone, shows a lock screen of Arby mid-laugh. “She was the realest influencer. When she dumped HOLO-BURST energy drink after they tried to rebrand her as ‘Gamer Barbie’. Iconic.”
A bolt of interest shoots through me. “She ended the sponsorship?”
“Oh, yeah.” Elijah nods vigorously. “They kept ghosting her invoices. Shady as hell. She posted about it on her close-friends Insta two days before she…you know.”
Juno and I exchange a glance. I can almost see the suspicion form behind her eyes.
Elijah continues, words tumbling. “I did some digging. HOLO-BURST’s shell company is run by a venture-capital guy in Saint Pierce. Gracewood Holdings? Same dudes backing a crypto casino that got hacked last year. Total scammers.”
Kid’s better at OSINT than half the PD. I reach into my hoodie pocket, slip out a business-card-sized sheet of paper—blank except a protonmail address. I hand it over. “Anything else you find, send it here. Encrypted.”
He stares at the card like it’s a Hogwarts letter. “Yes, sir, Mr. Hoover, sir.”
Juno gently touches his arm. “Thanks, Elijah. And hey—maybe tone down the skull emojis for now?”
He blushes. “Right. Sorry.”
We retreat to the sidewalk as Elijah drags the trash bin back like a dutiful nonplayer character. Juno exhales a shaky breath, adrenaline fading.
“So, energy-drink money laundering,” she murmurs. “That’s new.”
“Could be a motive,” I say. “Corporate sabotage, hush money, influencer liability.”
