The Lover's Surrender (No Exceptions) (4 page)

I looked at
Brian’s package, which had remained untouched in front of me. Kenny picked up
on it and continued, “When he heard the good news, he asked me about Nate, then
told me to get the package. He wanted to give it to Brooke a long time ago, but
he never had the opportunity. Now, with you two separated and Nate out of
prison, he wants you to go after her, sort things out. You know, spend time
with her.”

“Go after
her? Isn’t he quite the romantic?” I smiled sarcastically. “Forget roses. I’m
sure she’ll swoon over a gun. I’m sure she’ll want to make up in no time,
shooting at the stars and all.”

Kenny
laughed, his eyes meeting mine. There was a glint in them that I couldn’t
pinpoint. “Look, he knows that Brooke wants to learn how to shoot. He thinks
that with you being good at that sort of stuff, you should teach her, spend
some time with her. It would make her feel safe from Nate, and she would have
some form of protection. Don’t you think she should carry a gun now that she is
part of the gang?”

I stared at
him as alarm bells began to ring in my mind.

Part of the
gang?

When the
fuck did that happen?

The last
thing I needed was for Brooke to carry a weapon—any weapon—and get
into even more trouble than we already were.

I shook my
head vehemently. “Not happening.”

“I know you
like the whole damsel in distress crap, but Brooke needs to be able to defend
herself. Brian’s words. Not mine,” Kenny said. “You can’t protect her from
everything at all times, dude. However, teaching her to shoot a weapon could
bring you just a little bit closer to it. If you don’t teach her, then someone
else will. If you don’t want to, she’ll find someone else who’ll help teach her
to defend herself. Someone who’ll get the importance of it. The question is
who?”

I stayed
silent.

He was
right, of course.

While I
wanted Brooke to be able to defend herself if she ever found herself in danger
again, I also wanted it to be me who protected her and defended her with my
life, if need be. That I couldn’t now sent a piercing stab through my heart.

“She saw
someone today,” I said, still staring at Brian’s gift.

On impulse,
I lifted my phone and checked the screen reluctantly. The app I had installed
showed that Brooke hadn’t yet left her apartment.

Or at least
her phone was still there.

My stomach
churned at the thought that she might have outwitted me by leaving her phone at
home while going out.

She had
done that before.

What if
Brooke had discarded it on purpose, knowing I had the tracker installed, and
was now getting back at me doing God only knew what? Or worse yet, roaming the
streets in spite of the danger she was in, like she had done two days ago.

“I called
you because I need a favor. I need you to check this address and find out
whatever you can about the person who owns GR Photography.” I fished a small
piece of paper out of my pocket and handed it to Kenny.

The silence
lasted for all of two seconds.

“So you
need me to hack into his system.” There was no surprise in Kenny’s voice. No
judgment. His expression barely changed, as if he had been suspecting that I
might need him for something like this that all along.

“Yeah. Can
you do that?” I asked.

“Easy.”

“Good.” I
eyed the paper again. “All I’ve found out so far is that his name’s Grayson
Robert. He owns the building, and from his profile on the web, he seems to work
as a photographer, but I’m not sure he’s the one Brooke’s seeing. His name’s
linked with far too many people.”

“So, you
want me to check up on him…” Kenny repeated, glancing at his watch. “At 12.30?”
When I looked up, there was a grin on his face.

“Is that
going to be a problem?” I grimaced. In the past, Kenny had made fun of my
obsession with Brooke at every opportunity. I thought he had grown out of his
irritating habit.

Fat chance.

By
admitting that it was indeed urgent, I would also admit that I couldn’t live
without Brooke, which was kind of the truth. But did I want Kenny to know that?

“Just do
it,” I mumbled. “And be discreet about it.”

“Well, then
let’s go.” Kenny reached the door in a few long strides, waiting for me to
follow. “The sooner you know what your Juliet is up to, the sooner Romeo will
get to rest.”

I groaned,
irritated at his Shakespeare reference.

Trust Kenny
to miss the definition of ‘discreet.’

JETT

Kenny’s
room was decorated in black, which included the walls, the cupboard, and the
curtains. Even the bedspread was a soft shade of licorice. Kenny claimed that
the color black helped him focus, pushing aside any form of distraction, which
was fundamental in his line of work as a professional hacker. The only vivid
splashes were the flickering screens of about fifty computers set up all around
his desk on adjustable black shelves and a dangling light bulb in the middle of
the ceiling.

The moment
Kenny slumped down in his chair, he propped his legs on the desk, and his good
hand glided to a keyboard, his long fingers poised over the keys. And then his
furious typing began.

Five
minutes passed.

Then ten.

I leaned
back on the bed, waiting patiently, even though patience wasn’t exactly one of
my virtues. In this instance, however, I was glad to let him do the work and
wallow in my gloomy thoughts instead.

Eventually,
the computer in front of him wired up, and the screen filled with numbers and
letters that moved so fast, I didn’t even try focusing on them.

I jumped up
from the bed and leaned over his shoulder, suddenly nervous, suppressing the
urge to pace the room.

What the
heck could one find about a person through a computer?

I had
listened to Kenny’s recounts of his many illegal activities so many times that
I had no doubt if there was dirt buried in a yard, Kenny would stumble upon a
virtual picture of it.

Kenny
always joked that no secret was safe from him. And I believed him. He always
knew what he had to do, extracting the most coveted secrets as if they were his
own.

That was
how we found out that my father had been blackmailed and that he had
transferred a large lump of money to save his reputation. If he could find out
my father’s secrets so easily, what could possibly stop Kenny from discovering
something that might just change my life…and not for the better?

What if Brooke
had been seeing that Grayson guy for longer than I thought?

What if he
was some ex she had failed to mention?

Did I want
to know?

I swallowed
the thick lump in my throat, and my expression hardened, my resolve
strengthening.

“I’m in,”
Kenny whispered, drawing my attention back to him.

My vision
focused on the screen. I expected to see images, videos…anything but a black
screen with countless strings of symbols, numbers, and letters.

“Yeah? You
might want to translate that,” I muttered. Admitting that I had no idea what
the heck that was pissed me off.

Kenny
chuckled, aware of my incompetence around computers.

“What you
see is an indirect access to his main computer’s hardware. Logs, passwords,
photos, emails, hidden folders…you name it, I have access to all of those now.
I can basically monitor his every movement, if you want. Give me the word, and
I’ll even activate his computer’s webcam.” Kenny’s eyes were gleaming as he
shot me a sideways glance, and the enthusiasm in his voice was unmistakable.
This was his realm, and he made no secret of it. “I’ve developed a new program
that allows me to track every single letter he types on his computer and even
record anything he speaks while he’s in the same room. It’s still in its beta
stage, but it should work, seeing that his firewall is down.”

At my
silence, he turned to face me, and his brows shot up questioningly.

Thinking he
was waiting for some sort of acknowledgment, as usual, I nodded. “That sounds
great.”

Kenny
continued to look at me, his finger hovering over the keyboard, and I realized
it wasn’t praise he was waiting for.

“What the
hell are you waiting for?” I asked.

“This is
very personal business, man. You could pay her a visit and ask her if she saw
someone today,” Kenny said softly. “There would be no need to sneak around and
invade her privacy.”

He said it
as if he hadn’t done it countless times before.

As if he
weren’t a hacker—paid to meddle in people’s personal affairs.

Talk about
hypocrisy.

“Come on.”
I laughed and raked a hand through my hair. “Are you lecturing me about privacy
now? Really?”

“I’m just
saying you might not like what you find out and that it could jeopardize your
relationship. Once we’re in, it’ll be like an addiction and there will be no
way back. You can’t ‘undiscover.’ You can’t retrace your steps and say you
didn’t know about it. Eventually, it will spill out in a most unfortunate
moment and she’ll find out you snooped around.”

“So?” I
frowned. “I don’t have a choice but to find out what she’s up to and what kind
of person she might be seeing. We’re talking about my child and my girlfriend
here. It’s my responsibility to know who she’s dealing with and what kind of
person he is.”

“You don’t
know that,” Kenny said, shaking his head slowly.

“What?”

“That she’s
seeing someone.”

“Well, I
do, but that’s not even the point.” I let out a deep breath, the lump in my
throat constricting.

“How do you
know?”

“I talked
to her. Besides, I took your advice and had her phone traced. Or how else do
you I think I got Grayson’s details or found her at the club?” I pressed my
lips into a tight line. “Believe it or not, she seems to be enjoying her life.
Even if I wanted to confront her, I don’t think I’m welcome right now. Can’t
say that I’m too happy about what we’re about to do, but I need to know that
the people around her don’t mean to hurt her. Now if you could just dive in
there, that’d be great.”

My tone was
decisive, leaving no room for discussion.

Kenny
caught on to it and shrugged. “Hey, I’m just trying to make sure you won’t have
one too many regrets.” He turned his back to me, his gaze returning to the
screen. “Let’s check out his correspondence, documents, and so on. Watch this.”

With one
click, the screen changed to blue. A few seconds passed in silence, which only
managed to increase my nervousness. Eventually, the blue screen changed to a
desktop cover. I stared at it in surprise, my words failing me.

It was some
sort of plant with human-like roots, its thick body resembling a face.

Kenny let
out a laugh. “That shit is sick,” he said, pointing his thumb to the picture.

I raised my
eyebrows and watched his amusement disappear from his face.

“You like
it?” He pointed at Grayson’s desktop again.

“It’s
interesting.” As much as I hated the fact that the guy might be trying to date
Brooke, I couldn’t degrade myself by lying about the fact that I found his
strange taste in design at least interesting.

Kenny
leaned forward with renewed interest.

“It’s a
mandrake,” I remarked.

“A
mandrake?”

“I’m sure
you’ve heard of it.” The question was: was Brooke seeing some sort of hippie, a
lover of plants, or a very strange individual?

“You think
he’s seeing her?” I asked, putting my thoughts and fears into words.

“No idea,”
Kenny said, oblivious to my distress. “But we could go through his most recent
documents, see his past activities, and then we’d know their relationship
status.”

I grimaced
again.

Their relationship status.

The way
Kenny said it sounded as though it was a real possibility.

Brooke
wasn’t like that. At least that was what my gut feeling told me. And yet, did I
really know her? The mere thought of Brooke dating this plant guy was crazy.
Immediately, a nerve started to throb above my left eye, and my hand
instinctively went up to my neck to ease the pressure building inside me. My
hands balled into fists.

Kenny
turned his head to me, and his grin disappeared as he noticed my grim
expression. “I didn’t mean…” He sighed, pausing. “Shit, man. All I’m saying is
that if he saw Brooke today, he might have mentioned her in an email, in some
correspondence. They might be friends, or something like that, or maybe he’s
just—”

I crossed
my arms over my chest, cutting him off. “How about you shut up and see what you
can find out?”

“All right,
man.” Kenny’s tone was strained with something. It was certainly not worry or
guilt. With annoyance, I realized that his lips were twitching, as though he
was trying hard to hide his amusement. “Give me a second.”

“You sure
it’s his computer? It doesn’t look professional,” I asked to change the
subject. “The guy’s supposed to be a photographer.”

“Yeah,
check out his logo, dude,” Kenny said, pointing to the blue banner below the
huge cover. Right in the middle of the screen, almost undistinguishable and
hidden by a plant, was:

GR Photography

It was his.

For a few
minutes, Kenny’s typing was the only sound in the room. My heart began to thump
a bit harder as I noticed the countless files cluttering his main folders.

My eyes
came to rest on today’s date. Brooke had met up with him. What were the chances
he’d be mentioning her to someone else? Probably zero, but I had to know
anyway. Fighting the onset of desperation, I leaned over Kenny’s shoulder and
pointed to the folder.

“Click on
this one.”

As
instructed, he opened it. Instantly, hundreds of pictures flicked to life, all
large. All professional looking. All taking part at some kind of dress-up
party.

“It seems
to be work-related,” Kenny commented, stating the obvious. “I doubt we’ll find
anything here.”

“Go through
them,” I commanded.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, just
to make sure we’re not skipping anything.”

I didn’t
know what I expected to find. Maybe just seeing Grayson’s models would make me
imagine what kind of man he was.

Kenny
started to click through one picture after another, opening and closing them
all.

“There are a
lot of girls in here. Lots of
good-looking
girls,” Kenny said, amused. “My best guess is Brooke is friends with one of
them. Maybe she can get me the numbers of a few.”

I frowned
at him for not taking this seriously. “Very funny.”

Kenny
looked up, casting me a side-glance, and I realized he hadn’t been joking.

“What?” he
said and shrugged his shoulders. “I’d hook up with them if they were available.
I mean, we’re talking professional models. I certainly wouldn’t say ‘no’.”

“Aren’t you
dating Sylvie?”

“She’s not
the exclusive type.”

I frowned.
“You made that conclusion based on what?”

Kenny
shrugged again and said nothing. I realized it wasn’t the time or place to make
further comments, so I decided to drop the topic.

As Kenny
continued to comb through the pictures, the sour taste in my mouth intensified.
My heart raced. My stomach churned as the intensity of my suspicion grew
stronger, until a hint of nausea rose in me.

And then,
there she was.

“Stop
here,” I whispered. Kenny’s hand hovered in the air, ready to resume.

In front of
us was a picture of a woman, half-naked, draped over a chair in a seductive
pose, next to two other models. Her hair was tied up in a complicated style,
and her face wore so much makeup, other people would have had a hard time recognizing
her. But I would recognize her eyes anywhere.

I stared at
Brooke’s face.

It was her,
without a doubt. The same brown eyes. The same high cheekbones.

 
“I’ll be damned,” I cursed. “What the
fuck was she doing there?”

Her dress
was shorter than anything she usually wore and almost transparent.

There was
an air of confidence about her, a hint of sexiness—like the one of a
stripper ready to glide down a pole, showing off her body in the process.
Posing the way she had, she didn’t look like the Brooke I had fallen in love
with. She looked like a different woman.