Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
“We’re kind of in the middle of something here.” Tucker gives me an attitude. “What’s your deal?”
“I found her,” I announce.
Sam and Tucker sit up, their eyes focused on me. I sit at the edge of Tucker’s bed, still in disbelief after all these months of chasing after her.
“I didn’t get a name, but I got an address. It’s owned by a holding company.”
“I don’t get it,” Tucker says. “A company owns the blog?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure yet. I have to check it out.”
“You need to get some sleep first,” Tucker snaps. “Dude, you look like shit. And maybe get a shower, too.” He waves his hand at the space between us. “You don’t smell so hot either.”
I laugh at his snarky comments. “I’ve been working on this all day and night. I didn’t exactly have time for a shower.” Leaning forward, I grip a chunk of my hair between my fingers, resting my elbows on my thighs. “I’ve finally found her.”
“What’s your deal with this girl?”
“I know her code,” I whisper. “It’s beautiful. She’s a real architect. It feels familiar, but brand new.”
“That stuff’s over my head.”
“It’s like being an artist and appreciating the painter for each swipe of their brush. She’s a genius.”
I’ve never been so impressed with anyone.
The Queen is the real deal.
A brilliant hacker.
A skilled coder.
And I’m dying to meet her in person.
“Sounds like you’re in love with her,” Tucker says.
I chuckle at his stupidity. “For all I know, she’s a man hiding behind a screen name.”
“She’s a woman.” Sam clears her throat. “Or, so I heard.”
“I hope so,” I mutter, unsure why I care so much The Queen’s a woman. Not like it matters.
“Okay, now get out,” Tucker jokes, though I’m sure he means it.
I nod. “I have to go find my girl.”
Why am I calling her that? Because she knows me. I know her. I can feel it in her words, in her code, in every single step she takes to bring us closer.
“Shower,” Tucker says. “Girls don’t like guys who smell like barn animals.”
“Dick.” I laugh and then bend down to punch him in the arm. “Thanks for the tip, Tuck.”
“Anytime.” He waves his hand in my face. “Now, go.”
* * *
Fear shoots through my body as I park my Tesla out front of a brownstone off the Ben Franklin Parkway. At this hour, the city is silent. A few cars whoosh by, but the streets are mostly desolate. Hesitant, I push the door open, hoping this isn’t another trap.
It took Maverick hours to ping her IP address to narrow it down to this location. I stare at the address on the paper in my hand, double-checking its accuracy before I reach for the door handle. It’s open. I have a feeling The Queen is waiting for me. She has to be. This is all part of her plan.
From the beginning, she baited me to see how far I would go to find her. And now, I have. But it feels like she orchestrated this meeting as if she left me a few breadcrumbs on purpose. It was too easy this time. After chasing her for months, this makes little sense.
The inside of the brownstone is empty, the only light coming from upstairs. I climb the stairs and follow the light, which leads to an open door at the end of the hall. A woman with her back turned to me types feverishly on the keyboard in front of her, her gaze fixed on dozens of computer monitors spread across the desk. It’s like a hacker’s paradise, the room filled to the brim with every gadget imaginable.
She swivels in her chair, a long head of black, curly hair whipping around to face me. “JJ,” she says in the frigid tone I still remember so well. My blood runs cold from the sound of her voice. “You found me. About time. You’re not as good as you used to be.”
I was so sure I knew her code.
I was right about Cece being involved.
“My name isn’t JJ,” I spit back. “Don’t call me that, Cece.” I enter the room, hesitant to get too close to her. “It was you all along?”
She smiles, holding out her arms, leaning forward to bow in her chair. “Wasn’t I masterful? A genius, some would say.”
I grit my teeth in anger as I approach her. “You tried to ruin my friends’ lives. You even made my girlfriend hate me.”
“I did a lot more than that, and I did it for you, baby.” Cece blows me a kiss. “I left little Easter eggs for you to find me. I told you I’d come back for you.”
I shake my head, laughing. “You’re sick and twisted. What’s wrong with you?”
Cece gets up from the chair, and when she runs her long fingernails down my arm, I can’t move. No one is like Cecelia Carmichael. She’s toxic, like poison slowing running through my veins. One touch from her infects me, makes me weak. And yet, as much as I hate her out of habit, I lean into her as she presses her lips to mine.