My punch connects with his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. I pat his back as he wheezes. “When you fall for someone, Brother, I’ll remind you of this. Repeatedly.”
He’s too winded to respond, but it doesn’t stop him from flipping me the bird.
My business with Samson and Dalton concluded, I take a seat opposite Wylder. “Ansel wants his phone.”
Wylder’s lips thin. “Over my dead body. We’re still going through it.”
That makes my eye twitch. I knew they’d refuse, but hearing it brings me crashing down to reality. About who we are and who Ansel is. He’s involved in a huge mess, and now we’re going to have to clean it up.
I don’t mind. But my brothers do. They mind very much.
“Have you found anything of use?”
Wylder shakes his head. “No. Your boyfriend is smart. Everything is encrypted and password protected. This is going to take some time.”
That makes pride well up inside of me. “Heisthe smartest.”
“But he has received several messages from a Neo. They sounded worried.” Wylder taps the desk. “Could be a lover?”
My jaw clenches, my mind flashing to the N on the wall and everything Ansel told me. I’m glad I already know about him, or this revelation would have me throwing more punches. “Not a lover. His best friend.”
“Well, Neo has great taste in names. LoveThe Matrix,” Samson says. “Awesome films.”
I ignore that. Samson’s taste in films is about as accepted as my taste in music. “Ansel needs to message him and let him know he’s okay.”
Wylder doesn’t budge. “We need to discuss this as a family. We’ve done some digging on Neo, and he seems to be a hacker. As is your Ansel. Although online, he goes by Ghostmode.”
“Not the most original name. I like Neo better,” Samson drawls, and I shoot him a warning look. No talking badly about what’s mine.
I stand and lean on the desk. “I know he’s a hacker. He told me so. It’s how he got into trouble and why he kidnapped me. The simple solution right now would be to let Neo know his friend is okay. They have an agreement that if they don’t hear from one another for three days, then they know shit is going down. Do we really want Neo looking into us? With a name like that, who knows what he’s capable of.”
Wylder considers it. I know not to push him. He likes to take his time making a decision. Finally, he pulls a phone from his desk drawer. I recognize it as Ansel’s.
He doesn’t let it go as I reach for it. “Instead of giving him the phone, because we aren’t done combing through it, you can go ahead and send a message to Neo. Nip this in the bud, Cade. Candace isjoining us for dinner tonight, and I don’t want to have to cancel because you accidentally get us into some shit.”
“Wouldn’t be the worst if you missed a date with her,” Samson grumbles. Wylder hears him, but ignores his comment. I don’t think any of us like Candace—don’t really trust her—but Wylder does, so we say nothing.
Well, mostly say nothing.
Sometimes we can’t help ourselves. Like Samson right now. It’s harder to bite our tongues when we know we will be subjected to her company.
Usually, I’d be giving an excuse to skip it, but maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll take Ansel along. It’ll be good for him to see more of what he’s getting into.
And he’s bound to liven shit up just by being there. For me, at least.
I give Wylder a clipped nod. “All right, give it to me. I’ll get him off our trail.”
I take the phone and slide to the messages. Neo is one of only a few contacts in this phone, and I feel my chest clench at that. Is my Ansel really so alone? His parents are gone and he has no siblings, but does he have no one else? I don’t know what that would be like. I have my brothers in my personal space at all hours of the day. Sometimes it drives me crazy.
I think being alone would drive me crazier though. If I’m honest, my brothers are the reason I’m as sane as I am. Which isn’t a lot, but like I said, it could be worse. I could be zero percent sane.
That wouldn’t be good for the world.
As I glance at the thread, I see a long string of messages from Neo, each one more concerned than the last. I scroll up to see when Ansel messaged and note that it was two days ago.
If I also note that there’s nothing romantic in the messages, I won’t admit it.
Even if something in my chest unclenches at the knowledge that they truly are just friends.
