Come To Me (Owned Book 3) (21 page)

“Fuck you, my shit is golden.”

“How the goddamn fuck am I supposed to destroy GEM?” I urged.

“There you go, being dramatic.” Seven waved his cigarette back at me and peered out the shit-stained curtains. “I said, I need you to eliminate their wetwork division.”

“Sorry, you’re right, regular fucking day in the park…”

“You might be surprised…”

I turned on my setup, the glow of the old computer lighting up my face. As I started booting up the Stone Age software, I thought back to my plan. There was only one dumbass in the world I could screw over to pull it off.

Dom Weathers.

Lucky for me, he was the same guy that fucked me over, so I wasn’t feeling any particular pangs of loyalty. Dom always had a soft spot for pretty faces. It nearly got him kicked out of the program. At the end of training, every recruit was given “confidential” information and later a beautiful woman would approach us at a bar while we were celebrating. Most of us saw right through it, but some weren’t so astute.

Of course Dom nearly spilled everything, but once again I pulled him out of it. I don’t know why I did it. Maybe it was because Dom had become like a brother to me. My family was non-existent at that point and I was trying to fill voids better left empty. I should have realized my family tree was rotted beyond salvation, and Dom would prove to be no exception.

Lucky for me, Dom never learned from his mistakes, and was still the dumbass I knew from basic. When he’d confided to me months ago about the “blondie sys analyst” he’d been trying to get ride his dick, he’d given me more information than he thought.

Blonde hair, brown eyes, and sys analyst was all I needed to know. Malorie Grey, a systems analyst with a level two clearance, had started working at GEM three years before. As far as I’d learned, she’d only crossed paths with Dom a few times.

Since Malorie worked in marketing and not wetwork (an officially nonexistent department), all of her logs were transparent and available. She appeared to be a normal person with a normal job. She worked her nine to five, walked her dog, occasionally took sick days, and was really looking forward to spending vacation with her boyfriend.

Yeah, her fucking boyfriend, who was definitely not Dom Weathers. Outside of GEM, Dom and Malorie were perfect fucking strangers. Malorie probably wouldn’t even remember Dom, considering the only time they’d met was when he emailed her to fix something on his computer.

“This isn’t really my purview, I will have IT check into it.” And that’s all she wrote, folks. Sounds like love. I wasn’t surprised Dom had developed a near-stalker level attraction for her. Since I’d known the guy, every single one of his “relationships” had involved a restraining order. Lucky for me, his delusions were going to work in my favor.

They were fucking Facebook friends, though, because today it didn’t matter if you liked the person or had even met the person, chances were you were still their friend on Facebook. Another delusion that was going to work in my favor.

It took all of two seconds to hack into her account. I didn’t even bother trying to break Facebook’s encryption algorithm, I just looked at her public profile and found her dog’s name. Her password? The fucking dog.

I sent Dom a private message from her account:
Dom, I need your help.

Almost instantly, Dom replied,
What’s up Blondie?

I don’t think I should say over Facebook,
I responded.
It’s not secure.

I can meet you at your place.
How the fuck Dom Weathers knew her address when this was the most they’d spoken moved him further into Ted Bundy territory.

It’s not safe.

It’s not safe at your place?

I’ve already said too much…
I logged out and deleted the messages, making sure to delete her account as well. Malorie would assume it was a glitch and reinstate the account the next time she logged on. Dom, however, would be intrigued and worried. Then in a day or two I would send him a text from a burner phone.

I glanced at my watch. It had taken the better part of the day getting and setting up the equipment I needed to catfish Dom and I was now an hour late for Lenny Watch. Grabbing my dark hoodie, I headed out to find her, trying to suppress the similarities that were starting to crop up between Dom and me.

“W
hat the fuck are you doing, Lenny?” I muttered to myself. I’d been watching her for over a month now and her behavior kept getting more and more bizarre. That day she’d driven from Santa Barbara to Fresno, holing herself up inside some outpatient clinic.

At first I thought it was the only place her insurance covered, because insurance is shit like that. Then she went to a pharmacy in Santa Barbara, obliterating that theory.

I’d followed her practically every minute the past month. Back in Santa Barbara, she’d gone inside one building every single day. The building was nameless on the front, but after doing some digging, I’d discovered it was home to many businesses. At least thirty businesses shared the same roof. I had no idea what Lenny was doing there.

Once a week she went to a hospital. I was just as in the dark as to why she went there. Now this, driving to fucking Fresno for an outpatient clinic. My mind raced. Did she have some kind of cancer that required multiple doctors? Was she ill?

I gripped the steering wheel as I waited for her, mind running through various terrible scenarios.
Cancer—how many different cancers are there now? Hepatitis—did Lenny ever use drugs intravenously? AIDS—see previous question.
Just as I was thinking up even worse possibilities, my burner phone pinged. Dom had responded to the trap I’d planted.

What’s going on, Blondie?
Dom asked.

Keeping my eyes on the building, I typed out my reply. A
week ago people approached me and threatened me. They said if I didn’t give them the information they wanted they would kill me.

What information is that?
Dom asked. A person walked out of the doors and I jumped slightly, but settled when I realized it wasn’t Lenny.
Fuck
. I’d been sitting in the car for almost an hour. Seriously, what the fuck was she doing in there?

I don’t even know!
I typed. The more helpless I appeared, the more Dom would want to take advantage of me.
I’m just a systems analyst. I tried to explain it to them but they threatened me.

I leaned against the leather of the stolen car as I waited for Dom to reply. It was hot as fuck outside, the sun high in the sky with no cloud coverage. The heat outside made the clinic building blur.

Try and explain to me what they wanted to know,
Dom replied.

You are a fucking idiot
, I thought in my head, but instead responded,
They said they needed codes and numbers. I don’t know what that means. I told them I work in the marketing department but they wouldn’t listen.
Everything inside GEM was accessed through a series of codes. Operations, files, birthdays, you name it—accessed through a code. Agents were given their own code, but were probably the lowest fucking totem on the pole. If you accessed something, you better have a damn good reason.

Even before my death, if I tried to access higher-level operations or files with my code, they’d be in that room before I even pressed send.

Enter the Fool, Dom Weathers.

What codes and numbers?
Dom asked.

I don’t remember,
I typed back, playing up my role as Malorie Grey, scared and unknowing system analyst.

Try.
Just as Dom responded, Lenny exited the strange building. I turned on the ignition while Lenny’s fiery mane bobbed across the scorching asphalt. She had no bag except her purse, was wearing the same clothes from when she went inside. I was looking for anything that might tell me why she kept going inside that building, but nothing.

Lenny pulled out of the parking lot and I followed. It was fruitless at that point, as I knew she was going back to Grace’s. She’d followed through on her threat to Zoe. I had to imagine it was cramped in their one bedroom. Lenny had become routine, even in her mystery. I might not know what she was doing, but I knew where she was going. My phone pinged just as I followed her onto the freeway.

Blondie?
I glared at Dom’s insistence, annoyed that I had to be Malorie Grey and not Vic Wall.

Budapest. Moore. Alice. I think…I think maybe Morris.
When I’d quit GEM, Budapest and Morris were missions nearing fruition. Hopefully he wouldn’t think twice about the fact that Alice and Lenny’s names were in there. Sure, I had to do what Seven asked, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t kill two birds with one stone. I could simultaneously destroy GEM and find out if they were looking into Lenny at the same time.

Dom would log into his account, access classified information, and hand it over to pretty Malorie Grey, going against everything he’d been taught in the process. Then again, I think we’ve established Dom never really learned much.

Give me a few hours,
Dom responded.
I can get you those numbers.
Fucking bingo.

How can I ever repay you?
I asked, pulling to a stop a few houses back from Grace’s.

I’ll think of something,
Dom sent back. Our correspondence ended, and I didn’t expect to hear from him again for days. I could practically picture the Cheshire grin he had on his face, though. If there was ever a way to get into Dom’s head, it was through the one in his pants.

Like I said, I thought it would take awhile. Days, to be specific. I knew Dom would get the numbers to me, but I expected him to take a
few
precautions. You know, at least
try
and mask the fact that he was stealing them.

Nope, like foolish fucking clockwork, the numbers came to my burner email just hours later. A few houses down, while I waited for Lenny to turn off her light, I cemented a plan that would keep her safe forever.

“W
hat the fuck did you just sell that girl?” I demanded, throwing the punk against the wall. Week six of following Lenny and shit wasn’t getting any better. Lenny continued to go into odd buildings and drive into the middle of Bumfuck Nowhere, California. Now it looked like she was buying drugs.

“Wh-what?” he stammered, fear creeping from his eyes to his limbs.

“What did you just sell that girl?” I repeated, slamming him once more against the bricks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he exclaimed, eyes darting around. “I didn’t sell anything to anyone.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me. Red hair. Beautiful blue eyes. You sold something to her.” I’d watched the exchange from the car, fists curled the entire time. The boy, who couldn’t have been older than eighteen, had been jittery and apprehensive. Lenny, however, was calm as rain.

Whatever the fuck that saying means. As if rain is ever calm. Still, Lenny was as calm as I’d ever seen her. She touched his shoulder, she smiled, and then hands were grasped and I just
knew
drugs were inside.

Dawning spread across his features. “You mean Lennox?” I nearly dropped my grip on his collar. Lenny was on a first name basis with her drug dealer? That couldn’t be good.

“Yes.” I tightened my hold while at the same time trying to loosen my anger. “What did you sell her?”

“I didn’t sell her anything. She sells to me…” At the look on my face he trailed off, clearly terrified. “Wait, wait! That didn’t come out right! She doesn’t sell to me, she gives to me.”

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Why was Lenny selling drugs? I hadn’t been able to transfer all of my fortune to her yet, but I’d made sure my life insurance paid out in her name. It wasn’t much, but it was enough and it was also the safest way to get her money without raising suspicion—that is, suspicion from my world. In the civilian world life insurance policies were reasons for murder, but in my world it was like tipping a waiter.

“Look, we met in group therapy, okay? I don’t have insurance and she does. I’m schizo and if I don’t get my meds, bad things happen. She goes to a doctor in a different county and lies to get meds and then gives them to me.” I let go of his collar completely and he fell to the pavement. His words made the puzzle pieces fall into place. Now I knew why Lenny drove to all the godforsaken corners of California.