Smoke glances over to the wooden doors currently keeping everyone out. “You know what about?”
I shake my head. “I don’t.”
“Okay,” Quinn says. “Well, I hope we see you out there.”
I’m just watching their backs disappear down the hallway when the church room doors swing wide and Catfish steps out.
His face is unreadable, tight around the eyes, mouth set.
I rise, my pulse kicking up a beat. “Well? Are you okay?”
He nods, then sits opposite me. It’s hard not to reach for him to soothe him. But we talked about this before we came over this morning. If we’re going to get away with him remaining in the house with me, we have to maintain the illusion that we are nothing more than friends working the problem together.
“Yeah. Just needed a sense of how the money was going to roll over the next few months, using the money we get from King for protecting you, and the money you already recovered.”
I can sense there’s more. “And?”
“I told him about the username.” His voice lowers. “He wondered how deep that username and email CG6 is using to connect with you was buried.”
My mouth goes dry. “It was buried, like, three firewalls deep. Only someone who knew of me in the past would even know where to look. Or someone really great at cybercrime. It’s not something, say, Wraith or Smoke could find on a Sunday afternoon using a mainstream search engine.”
He glances over to the door where laughter from outside drifts in. “That’s what I thought. And Grudge agrees, it must be someone who has access to your past. Family. Old friends. You said Calista pulled a group of you together.”
A quiet chill runs down my spine. “No. It couldn’t have been one of them.”
“Couldn’t? Because you have access to their machines and know everything they’ve ever done, or you don’t want to believe any of them capable of what we’re talking about?”
I feel it deep in my bones that this isn’t a random hit but a betrayal. “You know it’s the latter because the former is impossible. But we’ve all been through so much together over the years. Hunted in the same way. I can’t believe any of them would do that to me.”
Catfish smiles softly. “You’d be surprised what people would be willing to do in a tough situation.”
I glance over to the doors of church, where I see Grudge putting on his coat. I drop my voice and lean closer. “Like lie to their president?”
“If it means I get to kiss those lips every day, it’s an easy yes.”
Lucy bounds into the clubhouse but doesn’t see us. She’s too focused on Grudge, who grins when he sees her. She throws herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, before kissing him thoroughly.
He holds her tight, backs up into church, then kicks the door shut with his boot.
Catfish looks at the door as wistfully as I do. “One day, we’ll be that open, Wren. I promise.”
There’s an itch beneath my skin. One that I’m sure tells me lies. But it’s hard not to conflate being non-binary and being told people would be ashamed to date me and hiding who we are to each other now.
I force the thoughts away and reassure the man who has done nothing but stand for me. “What we’ve got is real enough for me to hold on to. Other people knowing about it won’t negate that.”
Catfish sighs, his hand twitching like he wants to touch me. He doesn’t, of course.
Turns out, motorcycle club hands-off clauses are a lot more binding than I would have imagined. A part of me wants to ask King to lift it, but that means forcing Catfish’s journey and effectively outing him to his president, and I won’t do that to him.
My phone vibrates on the table, and I look down at it.
“Who is it?” Catfish asks.
“Chase. Again.”
His brow wrinkles. “Twice in one day, you must be top of his list. What does it say?”
I read the email out loud. I have nothing to hide.
