Page 39 of Diablo

I willed myself to inhale a steady breath, hiding my tremble of relief. LeBlanc gestured to the laptop.

“Continue.”

One hour bled into another, dead silent except for the click-click of my fingers on the keyboard. My head still hurt and my shoulders ached from being hunched over the damn computer, but I didn’t slow down or stop in case LeBlanc might interpret it as slacking off.

He moved to the window and lifted the curtain with two fingers, peering out.

“How much longer?”

“Nervous?” I asked without glancing up from the lines of code scrolling across the screen.

“I thought you would be faster than this.”

I shrugged. “You were the one who decided to keep me in the dark. I could have given you more details if you’d asked. Like I said, this shit takes time.”

“How did you get into Tarzan’s bank account so quickly then?”

“One account will take less time than an entire bank. Besides, protection has been ramped up since then. It’s going to be harder to hit it the second time around because they’re taking precautions to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

LeBlanc grumbled and continued looking out the window. I flicked my gaze up at him above the laptop’s screen.

Then the flash of blue and red lights blazed across the glass. A chorus of shouting echoed outside. LeBlanc whipped his head around to look at me.

I held up my cuffed hands with a little wave.

“I’m taking you down with me this time, my friend.”

A split second later, the door banged open. Police officers streamed into the room, guns raised, flashlights bright.

“Police! On the ground! Hands on your head!”

As LeBlanc was pinned to the floor, I smiled. Finally, it was over.

***

While I sat in the cold, empty jail cell, I was granted an ice pack for the goose-egg sized lump on the back of my head. I winced as I probed at it experimentally with two fingers. It was a small price to pay though. No one else was hurt. The bank was untouched. And LeBlanc was going to prison for a long, long time.

“Visitor,” the prison guard grunted.

A moment later, Brewer stepped up to my cell. I blinked in surprise.

“You weren’t expecting me,” he said.

I shook my head. “Not really.”

If I was honest, I hadn’t expected anyone to visit. I’d ruined everything with Stevie. The Alpha Riders had no loyalty to me as a failed Prospect. And I hadn’t spoken to my father in over ten years.

Brewer held up my kut.

“You left this behind.”

I glanced away, dropping the ice pack on the mattress beside me.

“I’m not your Prospect anymore, remember?”

Brewer sighed.

“The cops said you blew the whistle on yourself. Why did you do that?”

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