“Yeah,” he says, sounding confused. “But I didn’t open it. I just deleted it.”
“You didn’t need to open it for it to work,” I tell him. “Opening it cuts out the rest of the steps, but it also works if the text is moved to a different location on your phone, in this case, the trash folder. Once it’s moved, the tracker implants on your phone, and it gets activated by an ad.”
“An ad?” he asks and ducks under a low-hanging branch.
“Do you remember seeing an ad for discount sunglasses when you were using one of the apps on your phone after getting that text?”
He pauses. “I think so. But I never click on ads. I exit out of them as soon as they let me.”
“For this tracker, you don’t have to click on the ad. It’s enough that you watched it. Even a second of play is enough to activate the tracker.”
“How the hell do you have access to that kind of tech? That sounds like some spy-level shit.”
“It’s amazing what my cousin can come up with when he’s bored,” I say with a chuckle.
“Your cousin?”
I slow down and carefully sidestep some sharp, jutting rocks that would tear us to shreds if we slipped and fell on them. “Technically I didn’t put the tracker on your phone. Jace did it for me. He also created it.”
“Jace? Like the same Jace who can spin knives around like a serial killer?”
I huff out a soft laugh. “Yup.”
“So he’s like, a hacker or something?”
“Yep. And a damn good one.”
“Is Jax one too?”
“Not to the same level. His thing is code breaking. He’s been into cryptography as long as Jace has been into coding.”
“And what about Killian? Or you? Are all of you hackers?”
I laugh again. “Not at all. Killer and I are normies compared to them.”
“Killer?”
“One of Killian’s nicknames.”
“Considering what I’ve heard about him, that seems very fitting,” Damon muses. “I remember when you told me how Jace and Jax used to use each other for target practice when you were kids, and I didn’t fully believe you. I thought you meant they practiced hitting targets and would stand too close to them and accidentally get hit or something. Now I know you meant they literally threw knives at each other, and theywerethe targets.”
“Yup. Thank fuck they got bored with learning archery and axe throwing before they got to the using each other as human targets phase of those hobbies.”
“I know all this should terrify me, but it doesn’t.” He sounds befuddled, but not afraid, and that’s a good sign.
The kind of shit that just went down is pretty normal for my cousins and me, or at least normal enough that we’ve dealt with that kind of situation before. Damon obviously hasn’t, and I was worried he’d have another breakdown like he did after I took out those kidnappers.
“They’re different, aren’t they?” he asks, his voice hesitant. “Like, there’s something legit different about the twins, right?”
“Yeah, there is,” I confirm. “I’ll explain what I mean once we get to the cabin.”
We might be in the middle of the woods and away from cameras and recording devices, but I don’t feel comfortable telling him about the twins’ diagnoses out in the open like this.
“Were you tracking me before you…before you guys saved me?” he asks, and I can tell by the tone and cadence of his voice that his thoughts are racing. “Or were you just out and happened to have the best timing ever?”
“I was tracking you,” I tell him. “We were heading into town, but I noticed you went for a walk when you were supposed to be hanging out with your friend West.”
“How did you know I was supposed to hang out with West tonight?” He shoots me a surprised look.
