Infuriating - Onley James Page 0,45
organs were quivering with fear.
“Dayton, come here.”
Day stood, walking the two short steps to Jackson. He pulled Day into his lap, cradling him. He hated himself for dropping his head on Jackson’s shoulder and letting himself be held. “He said he killed Juh-Jay. He killed Jay because of me. This is all my fault.”
Jackson kissed Day’s forehead. “Stop that. It is not your fault that some lunatic imagined some connection with you. He’s clearly unstable. Maybe now that he’s used your personal email, we’ll be able to see where he’s sending them from.” Jackson flipped through Day’s other emails while he held his breath. “As soon as we touch down, I’ll get my guys working on this. He’s clearly devolving. He’s bound to make a mistake.”
Day shook his head. “What if he hurts somebody else to try to get to me?”
“Then it still won’t be your fault, but I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen. I won’t let anything happen to you, Day. I promise.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“No. No fucking way,” Day said, stomping his foot like a toddler.
“Day, be reasonable.”
“It’s reasonable to expect a certain level of privacy, Jackson,” Day countered, his head wobbling back and forth, hands on his hips, like he was ready to fight until his last breath.
Webster sat with his ass half on the arm of the sofa, arms crossed over his chest, his blond hair flopping into his eyes, his glasses perched on his nose, watching Jackson and Day’s exchange with some amusement. It was the first time Jackson had contemplated punching the tech wizard.
“Not when somebody wants to murder you!” Jackson growled through gritted teeth.
Day pushed his way into Jackson’s personal space, standing on tiptoe until they were almost nose to nose. Jackson could literally feel his breath puffing against his lips. Day smelled like toothpaste. “Don’t think you can just go all ‘grr’ on me and I’m going to wilt like some fucking flower, Jackson Avery. I’m not afraid of you.”
Jackson threw up his hands. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I want you to be reasonable, which it seems is something you’re completely incapable of doing, even when somebody might be trying to murder you.”
“I’m sorry that I won’t just hand over my laptop to a total stranger, but I need it to work. You know what work is, right? I don’t have houses around the world and employees who jump when I snap my fingers. I have to pay my rent. I have to keep my lights on. Just because I’m living here doesn’t mean my other life ceases to exist. I can’t work without my laptop.”
“I’ll pay your bills!” Jackson shouted, his tone somewhere between exasperated and infuriated.
He never got mad. Ever. It wasn’t something he considered worthy of his time or energy. There was nothing that couldn’t be fixed if you just came at the problem logically and with an open mind. At least, that’s what he’d thought before Day had steadfastly refused to hand over his laptop so that Webster could check it to see if it was being monitored remotely somehow. That was an hour ago.
“If I might interject,” Webster finally said, holding up a hand. “I don’t actually need the laptop to come with me. I can just mirror the hard drive and check it that way. Even though it would probably be better if you weren’t using it until we know for sure whether it's got a virus or spyware on it. We don’t want him tracking you.”
Day blew air out of his nose, his face sullen. “Why didn’t you just say that then?”
“Who could get a word in edgewise?” Webster asked.
Day’s expression was mutinous as he handed over his prized laptop and pointed at Webster. “You. I don’t like you.” He turned on his heel before stopping to glare at Jackson. “You, either.”
Jackson tried to bite back a smile as Day walked up the stairs, regal as a Queen, Kevin hot on his heels. Jackson’s roommate had clearly chosen a side, and it was not Jackson’s.
“So, that’s your type?” Webster asked when they were alone. “That twinky ball of rage?”
Jackson gave him a look. “I’m still your boss.”
“Then fire me, but you know you’ll never find anybody else willing to do the sketchy shit I do for you and your crew of misfits,” Webster said.
“And you’ll never find another boss willing to fund your little passion projects, so we’re even.”
Webster opened Day’s