Ruthless: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (22 page)

“Damn girl, I know you want to cut down on your electricity bill, but you could run this entire setup right now with two nine-volts and a hamster wheel,” Darcy says, making her way through the dim space. “What, short on money again?”

“You know that's not the problem,” I tell her, although there have been times in the past when I barely had two dimes to rub together and another payday nowhere in sight. “The skills you taught me provide better than that.”

An anarchic, idealistic hacktivist, it took Darcy a long time to come around to my point of view on things, and agreeing to teach me more than the basics of computer science. Not that my education was ever traditional, but nowadays, under the hacker handle Coup De Grace, I'm able to earn enough to put food in my stomach and keep the lights on.

“Yeah, of course I know,” Darcy says, her boots clomping on the floor. She and I share somewhat similar viewpoints on fashion, and that's one of the things we bonded over first. Well, that and a hatred of all things Microsloth. “Jeff saw the pics a half hour ago. I dropped Henry off with his grandmother and hightailed it over here, telling her a client had a computer issue. She doesn't quite understand my work, so it's cool like that.”

“You didn't need to rush over here. I'm fine,” I say, getting to my feet. My little toes are still tingling, but it's not too bad. “Have you seen them?”

“Sho'nuff. Didn't think he'd be so...short. Thick, but short.” She holds the tips of her index fingers close together, indicating his length.

I laugh and get up. “Actually, he's bigger than the average man. I'd say a solid seven or eight, although I didn't have my ruler with me. I'm guessing the jacket hid some, and the angle of the photo hid some more. They get any of me?”

“They got your body and hair, but the photos released so far don't show your face. Don't matter though, since you're off-grid so much. But from what I did see...you were lookin' good, girl.”

Darcy's comment about me being off-grid is true. Katrina Grammercy has no driver's license, no photo IDs, no voter registration card, not even a library card. Everything is handled through 'Net identities and anonymous numbered accounts, or face to face with no paper trail. Cuts down on my income...but money isn't what I need. And it's definitely not what motivates me.

“Well, regardless, you and I both know that Peter DeLaCoeur's going to be coming for me. I just need enough time to take him the rest of the way down,” I say.

“And your friend? I know he's a womanizing asshole, Kat, but he was your best friend when you was kids. You take Papa DLC down, you take down Jacky-boy, too.”

I sigh and shake my head. It surprised me, but it actually hurt when I saw the look in Jackson's eyes. Once he realized who I was, there was a distinct look of betrayal I saw before I got out of the car. “You know there's no other way, Darce. I can't attack the DeLaCoeurs head on. Hell, I can't even hack their systems. Peter runs his business the old-fashioned way, with a lot of offline backups, and he only keeps paper trails on the stuff that's legit. From what I can tell, his memory's the only thing that keeps track of his illegal dealings. I need to pull the king out of his fortress, or else I'm dead before I get anywhere near him.”

“You could be dead either way,” Darcy reminds me. “And that, to me at least, is a greater loss than not getting your revenge.”

This is one of the few areas where we still disagree, but we're at peace with the situation. By that I mean I'm at peace with Darcy continually trying to get me to have a more positive outlook on life, and she's at peace with wasting her time trying to achieve that. “Not revenge, Darce. Vengeance. There's a difference,” I say.

“So you've told me for the past six years. But you know I disagree.”

We walk toward my sitting area, if you can call it that. By sitting area I really mean two old, patched-up wooden chairs from the boxing gym. The accompanying “table” is nothing more than a board of plywood sitting on top of two old computer towers. Since Darcy's here, I turn on the light, which is a solar-powered LED lantern that recharges during the day from the small amount of sunlight that comes in through the only window that isn't boarded up in the warehouse. “Darcy, if you really disagreed with me that much, you'd tell Jeff. If he busted a hacker like me, he'd get a promotion for sure. At the very least, it'd get him off patrols and a detective's shield.”

“And betray my best friend?” Darcy asks, shaking her head. “No honey, me and Jeff, we got ourselves an understanding. He don't ask about what I do besides put together custom computers for people, and I've backed off my online stuff for the most part. He helps me sometimes too though, when our purposes align.”

I chuckle. “Backed off? Since Henry's been born, I barely see you on the boards any more. Let alone see your traces around the systems.”

Darcy smirks and shrugs. “Ah, it's all good. I keep up-to-date, and besides, I make more money building kits for Tulane kids than I ever did trying to change the world one server at a time. And you know, if you really need my help, well, BlakDhal1A can always make a comeback.”

“You still worry about me though,” I say with a smile. “Why?”

“You know why, Kat. I already buried my family one time, when Katrina came through. I don't wanna bury you, too.”

“If by setting one’s heart right every morning and evening, one is able to live as though his body were already dead, he gains freedom in the Way,”
I quote to Darcy, smiling softly. “The
Hagakure.”

“I hate that fucking book,” she counters, then sighs. “All right Kitty-Kat, you my sister. You wanna run headlong to your doom...I'll be there to make sure you at least get a proper funeral. We'll have jazz and everything.”

I stand up, and Darcy follows. We hug at the door, and I give Darcy a bit of a smile. “Don't sweat it, Darce. Give my regards to Jeff and Henry. Someday I'd like to meet them in person.”

“I'd like that, too. Good night, Kat.”

“Good night, Darcy.”

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