“I’m up … I’m up …” I hear the rustling of covers. “Everything okay?” He clears his throat. “What time is it?”
“Late,” I answer.
“Who is it?” a woman’s soft voice asks in the background.
“Tell your fuck to pack her shit and get out,” Cole orders coldly. “We need to talk to you!”
I expect Bennett to argue, but instead, he sighs heavily. “Give me a second.”
Cole paces before me, water dripping from his boxers, his entire body rigid. I feel sorry for him. For what he has gone through with Austin. Finding the woman you love dead changes a man. I don’t care who you are. Especially when you were the one who wanted to hurt her in the first place.
“I’ll call you later,” Bennett says after a long second. “Okay.” He returns to the line. “What is going on?”
“Deke and I just got a text. That’s what’s up!” Cole explains.
“A text?”
“It was actually a PM through Facebook.” I clarify for Bennett.
“A message?”
“Did you fucking send it?” Cole snaps at him.
“What? Why would I send you a message?” he growls, getting defensive.
“Because it was sent to us from Evan Scott.”
Silence falls over us again as Bennett takes that in. Evan Scott is my spam account. I used to use it for several things. None of them were good.
Bennett is the first one to speak clearing his throat. “What? How is that possible?”
“I don’t know,” I answer. “But I can’t log in to that account. Someone has gone in and changed the password. I’m locked out.”
Bennett sighs heavily. “And you think I did it?”
I go to answerno, but Cole beats me to it. “You’re the only one I can think of who has that kind of knowledge. You crack passwords. Change emails. You knew who was behind it, and you know how to get into it.”
“Listen, Cole, I didn’t change anything, and I sure as hell didn’t send you a message. And it doesn’t take a genius to change that shit. A Facebook page isn’t that untouchable …” His voice trails off.
“What?” Cole demands after the silence lingers.
“Hang on,” Bennett tells him.
I take a hit of my cigarette, and Cole begins to pace some more.
“I got one too,” he growls.
I blow out the smoke and sit up straighter. “You got a message? From Evan Scott?”
“Yeah. What the fuck is this cryptic shit?” he barks.
“What does it say?” Cole growls.
“I see you, but you don’t see me. I know who you are, but you’ll never know me.”
“Hmm,” I say to myself.His is different than ours.
“Does it have the address at the end of the message?” Ours had a time and place here in Texas for tomorrow evening.
