Page 4 of Property of Booker

“He doesn’t care about your protocols,” I tell them, meeting Riptide’s gaze head on. “He’s got a specialist who’s just as good as yours. He’s already inside your network, mapping your routes and finding your vulnerabilities. He’s not playing a game of chance. He’s running a simulation until he gets the result he wants.”

“Who? Who is he using against us?” Riptide asks, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous rumble.

“Me,” I confess. The word tastes like poison on my tongue. “He has me under his thumb. He thinks I’m the best weapon in his arsenal. The only problem with that for him is that I don’t want him to win. I want you to win.”

Riptide stares at me, his gaze sharp enough to cut. “Why?” he demands, stepping into my personal space. “Why risk your neck to betray him for a club you don’t even know?”

“Because I see exactly what he does to people,” I reply. “ I’m done being the tool he uses to build his empire.”

CHAPTER

TWO

Kendall

“Who the hell are you to Jerome?” Indiana snaps, his frustration boiling over as he continues to pace in front of me. He stops dead, his face darkening until he looks ready to snap. “He doesn't just let some random stranger walk in here and offer up his secrets. You're hiding something and I'm itching to beat the truth out of you.”

I refuse to let his intimidation tactics land. “He thinks I'm his most loyal asset,” I answer, keeping my voice steady while I hold his stare. “I'm the one who handles the delicate jobs he can't trust his usual crew with. He relies on me to keep his network running smooth. At least he does until he realizes I'm burning it all down.”

Riptide watches me from the side, his silence heavier than Indiana's shouting. He's clearly assessing the risk. “That's a lot of power for someone he's supposed to be controlling,” he rumbles, his doubt plain to see.

“Power is just a perspective,” I counter, refusing to flinch. “He believes he holds the leash because he controls the systems I need to survive. But he forgets that I'm the one who built the cage.”

“You’re dancing around the question. Who the fuck are you to Jerome?”

“I’m his dirty secret,” I admit, shame lacing my words. “I’m one of his original girls. I didn’t join him out of choice, I joined him out of necessity to survive. He has one thing he holds over my head, the one thing that in this entire world will keep me compliant.”

“What’s that?” Riptide asks, his voice scratchy, as if he’s anticipating my answer.

“My son,” I remark.

The silence that follows my confession is absolute. It’s heavy, the kind that swallows the sound of the world outside and leaves only the thumping of my own heart in my ears. Indiana stops his pacing, his eyes widening for a fleeting second before his mask of stone slides back into place. Riptide just stares at me, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment as if he’s processing the weight of that single word.

“He’s got a kid,” Indiana mutters, his voice stripped of its edge. It sounds almost like an accusation, directed at the unfairness of the situation. “He’s holding a child to keep you in line?”

“He doesn’t care whose life he ruins as long as he gets what he wants,” I reply, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “He keeps my son in a place I can’t reach, under a guard I can’t bypass. Every task I complete, every system I hack for him, that’s the price of my son’s safety. But I’m running out of time, and he’s getting reckless.”

Riptide approaches, his boots heavy on the concrete. He doesn't look like he wants to intimidate me anymore. He looks like a man calculating the cost of a war. “How old?”

“Five,” I whisper. The number feels like a splinter in my chest. “He’s only five.”

Indiana lets out a low, rough breath. “That makes it personal.”

“It’s been personal since the day he took him,” I say, finally meeting Riptide’s gaze with every ounce of resolve I have left. “If you want to end him, you can’t just go in guns blazing. You need to know where he hides. And I’m the only one who can get you to that location.”

“And your boy? When we take Jerome out, what happens to him?” Riptide inquires.

“I’m going for the back entry,” I say, my voice devoid of hesitation. “While you create a diversion at the front, I’m scaling his perimeter fence and slipping into the security grid. I’m disabling the alarm triggers and taking down his guards so I can reach my boy before he even knows I’ve flipped.”

“You’re here to make a deal,” Riptide guesses.

“I am. I have penance to pay,” I tell them something I shouldn’t, but I’m tired of doing the wrong thing.

“To who?” Rip asks.

“To Booker,” I murmur, finally letting the truth spill. “I’m the one who keeps leaving those digital breadcrumbs for him to find. I’ve spent months scrubbing my tracks so he doesn’t trace the origin back to my terminal, but it’s a dangerous game. I try to guide him from the shadows, giving him just enough data to keep his investigation moving, but that encryption software I coded is almost too efficient. It works better than I ever expected. It keeps leaking more than I intend, and he’s getting too close for comfort. He’s brilliant, sharper than I anticipated, and now I’m scrambling to protect him from the very trap he’s walking into.”

“Your own system is tattling on you, isn’t it?” Indiana probes.