“Will do,” Wake said, sounding worried.
I rolled my eyes at the mother hen and went about getting ready to go.
I was just getting my bags to the back door when there was a knock on it.
I opened my back door to find Folsom standing there.
Just the sight of her made my heart race.
“Folsom,” I said.
Folsom was Aodhan’s wife’s best friend. She was also a longtime friend of Etienne, another friend that I’d made in prison.
Aodhan was another member of Gator Bait, and Aodhan’s wife, Morrigan, was always with Folsom. It was as if they were one soul living in two separate bodies.
“Hey,” she smiled at me, her perfectly straight white teeth impeccable as always.
Her eyes were a dull brown, almost muddy in color, but there was something about her face that always seemed so familiar to me.
As if I’d met her before.
“I’m coming with you,” she informed me.
I didn’t even blink at the understanding that she knew where I was going.
It didn’t surprise me in the least.
One, Wake’s wife would’ve told her, asking her for help.
Though I knew that wasn’t it.
Folsom was a hacker.
And not a government one, either. A black hacker that did what she wanted, went where she wanted, and couldn’t care less whose privacy she invaded when she did it.
Pretty much, she was the smartest person I knew and did a damn fine job at driving me nuts.
“Um,” I hesitated.
She smiled. “Don’t worry, JP isn’t coming with me.”
JP was actually her daughter, Julie Payne, and she was a genius just like her mother. Though in a less in-your-face kind of way.
Both JP and Folsom were hard for me to be around. They acted and reminded me so much of my sister and father, both certified geniuses themselves, that they were always bringing up bad memories. That was why I went out of my way to avoid them if I could.
“I’m more worried that you think you can come with me,” I shouldered my bag and walked out, pushing her to the side as I did.
Once the door was locked, I headed back into the alley that would lead me to my truck.
Normally, I would ride my bike, but it wasn’t quite so easy when you had a big-ass bag with you. Since I didn’t know how long I’d be there, I had to bring more than I wanted and would probably need.
“I can help,” she argued as she followed behind me. “I’ll get there on my own. So either I can go with you now, or you can just let me in when we get there.”
I grumbled under my breath but didn’t protest when she got into my passenger seat.
“Don’t complain when you get sick then,” I snapped.
It really wasn’t Folsom’s fault that she was a genius and I didn’t like her.
Honestly, it was my hang-up.
All my life, I’d been told that I was less because I wasn’t as smart or as outgoing as my father or my sister. Needless to say, I ended up taking that out on Folsom—though I managed to rein it in when it came to JP—because neither of them deserved it.
But fuck, the things she said and did, her outright uncaring demeanor when it came to anybody else…that was my sister, plain and simple.
My father at least had some caring in him. Though that caring only extended to my sister.
“I thought for sure you would fight this more.” She buckled herself in.
“I feel like there are a lot of things that I could do when it comes to you that wouldn’t matter,” I admitted. “You are like a fungus that just won’t go away.”
“Herpes,” she chirped. “Always popping up out of nowhere when you least expect it.”
I rolled my eyes.
“How did you even know?” I asked.
“I have your phone tapped,” she said. “I told you that I wanted to help you.”
She had.
Months ago, she’d come to me when she’d gotten bored and expressed an interest in helping me with my work. I’d told her a resounding no.
I just couldn’t handle being around her.
Not when everything that she was set my teeth on edge.
“Well, then it’s time to get over it, Kobe Sano.”
CHAPTER 2
Good men still exist. Your eyelashes just won’t let you see them.
-Folsom to a customer
FOLSOM
“Why is it that you can’t stay in your lane?”
I looked over at my best friend.
“Why would I want to stay in my lane when everyone else’s lane is a whole lot more fun?” I asked.
My best friend Morrigan was my best friend for a reason. She took me as is. Allowed me to have my faults. Didn’t complain when I got too far in her business—or anyone else’s business, for that matter.
She loved me for me, and that was what I needed.
Someone that didn’t care when I invaded her privacy and didn’t care that I broke the law.
What she cared about was the way that I always helped people. That I was always there for her.
“That may be true,” she said. “But one day, he’s going to kill you.”
She was right.
That night, years ago, he didn’t know it, but he gained a guardian angel.
He stayed when he didn’t have to stay.
He provided a helping hand—hell, he’d caught my baby as she practically launched herself out of my vagina—when I needed one most.
From that moment on—after I’d recovered from childbirth, of course—I’d gone out of my way to keep an eye on him. To make sure that he was doing all right.
He needed a break? Well, I made sure that he got one. Even if I had to hack into the warden’s computer that oversaw his penitentiary.
He needed extra medicine because of headaches he wasn’t telling anyone he was having? I hacked into the doctor’s computer, made notations in his patient chart, and ensured that anytime that he needed Tylenol, or something even stronger, all he had to do was look at the doctor.
And I watched him. I watched him on every single camera in every single room of that prison.
Well, all but the one that gave me any intimate insights into his life. Those I left alone because I knew there was a line that I couldn’t cross.
Not when it came to him.
Anything he did in his private cell—and yes, I ensured that he got one all to himself—was off-limits to me.
I even got him—as well as all the people I watched him protect from afar—out of prison.
How did I do that?
I contacted a friend. A friend who also happened to be a fellow hacker. And, like Kobe, had been wrongfully imprisoned.
Once I’d learned how they’d gotten out early—nothing was truly “hidden” from me—I’d contacted my hacker friend. Who’d then contacted his “boss.” That boss had then noted the merit in my plan and gone to bat for Kobe.
Though, it was all Kobe saving his friends. I’d just wanted him out. I hadn’t much cared about the rest of them.
Not that the rest of them—Wake, Cassius, Bain, Aodhan, Davis and Etienne—weren’t great people. They were. Etienne was also a good friend, so this was a no-brainer—help them all. But my main priority was Kobe.