Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
“How have I never heard of this before?” Kat asks. “Have you heard about this, Sarah?”
Sarah shakes her head, exactly the way Goofy would. I can’t help but chuckle at the sight of her. The more I get to know this girl, the more I love her. She’s smart and sweet and a total ass-kicker, on the one hand, and yet the dorkiest, goofiest girl I’ve ever met on the other. I don’t think I’ve met anyone quite like her before—and I’ve especially never met anyone better suited for my brother.
“Kinda freaks you out when you hear about it for the first time, huh?” Henn says.
“Totally,” Kat agrees. “It reminds me of when I found out there are trillions of invisible microbes on my skin at all times.”
“Please don’t talk about that whole microbes-on-your-skin thing,” I say. “That always creeps me out.”
Kat bursts out laughing and I join her. It’s easy to laugh when Kat does—the girl laughs like a dude.
Henn continues his tutorial, explaining in detail how he only uses his hacking-superpowers for good. “I leave no trace, take nothing, do no harm,” Henn says, “unless I’m being paid to leave a trace, take something, do harm, of course. But I only do that kind of thing when I’m positive I work for the good guys.”
“But how do you know you’re working for the good guys?” Jonas asks, clearly skeptical. “Everyone thinks their cause is righteous. Hence, the concept of war.”
I’m about to jump in and defend Henn, but he clearly doesn’t need my help.
“Well, yes, of course.” Henn looks right at Kat and flashes what I imagine he’s hoping is a charming smile. “But let me show you how I tell the good guys from the bad guys.” He looks right at Sarah. “Sarah, are you a good guy or a bad guy?”
“A good guy,” Sarah says.
“And there you go.”
Sarah shrugs like it makes perfect sense. “And there you go,” she says.
Jonas is clearly not impressed. “But who would ever say they’re one of the bad guys? Who would even think that about themselves? People are brilliant at justifying their actions to themselves—trust me, I should know.”
“Well, yeah,” Henn concedes. “But I don’t always believe people when they say they’re one of the good guys. In fact, I rarely do. If I believe them, the way I just believed Miss Cruz here, then that’s good enough for me.”
“Aw, you believe me, Henn?” Sarah asks.
“I do. Indubitably.”
“Why, thank you.”
“Of course.”
“Sometimes, it’s a no-brainer,” Henn continues. “Like when a job comes from Josh, for example, I always know I’m fighting for truth and justice and the American way, no questions asked. Because a guy can set his moral compass to Josh—he’s always one of the good guys, through and through.”
Thank you, Henn.
Now here’s a guy who’s got a brother’s back, unlike Jonas. I glare at my stupid brother, sending him a nonverbal “fuck you” for the way he let me twist in the wind in front of Kat the other day—but Jonas is too engrossed in staring at Sarah like a lovesick puppy to notice me.
“Thanks, man,” I say to Henn.
“Just speaking the truth,” Henn replies.
“Well, well, well,” Kat says, arching that bold eyebrow of hers. “It turns out the Playboy’s a good guy, after all—Mickey Mouse roller coasters notwithstanding.”
I smile broadly.
She bites her lip.
Oh man, I can’t wait to fuck this gorgeous woman. It’s gonna be so fucking good.
“So, Henn,” Jonas says. “If The Club lives in the Deep Web, how the fuck do we find them and take them down?”
Henn proceeds to explain his strategy for implanting malware onto Oksana Belenko’s computer. In essence, Sarah’s got to pay a personal visit to “the pimpstress extraordinaire,” as he calls her, obtain her email address, and then send Oksana an infected email on the spot, which Oksana’s got to open in Sarah’s presence. Sounds kind of hairy to me, actually—I agree completely when my brother insists on accompanying Sarah on her mission.
“But they think I’m playing you, remember?” Sarah protests in a huff. “Why on earth would I bring you with me if I’m scamming you?”
“I don’t know,” Jonas says, crossing his monstrous arms over his chest. “Use that big-ass brain of yours to come up with something they’ll believe.”
Sarah sighs in frustration.
“It’s non-negotiable, Sarah. We’re doing this together or we’re not doing it at all.”
Sarah huffs. “Why would I bring you to meet her? It makes no sense.”
Jonas looks at me, obviously inviting me to come up with a suggestion, but I’ve got nothing.
“They think I’m playing you,” Sarah says slowly, like she’s thinking out loud. “Why would I bring you with me?”
“I don’t know, but it’s non-negotiable.”
“I heard you the first time, Lord-God-Master.” Sarah crosses her arms over her chest. After a moment, she picks up her champagne flute and ambles to the floor-to-ceiling windows on the other side of the room. Nighttime has descended on the city while we’ve been talking and The Strip’s dazzling display of neon lights is sprawled out before us.