laptop and connected it to the small piece of hardware he’d pulled from his bag. His hands flew over the keyboard at warp speed, far faster than Jackson’s own hunt and peck typing.
“Seriously, are you violating your own rules? Weren’t you the one who said no more canoodling with the clients or we’re fired?” Webster asked, his eyes never leaving the screen.
“I’m the boss and he’s not paying,” Jackson said, already irritated with the direction of the conversation.
“So, the loophole is, you’re doing him pro bono?” Webster said, emphasizing the last word by wiggling his brows.
It was on the tip of Jackson’s tongue to say he wasn’t ‘doing’ him, but that would be a lie. Day had been done quite thoroughly by Jackson. At the hotel, on the flight home. Twice in the shower. Once on the back porch. Then, in the shower again. Day had even blown Jackson in the kitchen fifteen minutes before Webster had shown up. They hadn’t really been able to keep their hands to themselves for the last two days. So, he said nothing, instead choosing to glower at Webster. After all, it was his fault Day was mad.
Webster mirroring Day’s hard drive came after two days of frustrating dead ends where Day’s stalker was concerned. Whoever he was, he was either incredibly smart or terribly lucky. Either way, if Jackson found him, he was going to tear his arms off and beat him to death with them. He was caught up in a rather vivid fantasy when Webster cleared his throat.
“Uh, Jack.”
“What? Did you find something?”
“Uh, I’m not sure. Does Day have vision problems?”
Jackson frowned. “He wears glasses, but he doesn’t fall down the stairs without them. Why?”
“His computer is wired for software that’s most often used by people who are blind or, at least, legally blind. Voice to text software. Software that close-captions webpages.”
“I—” Jackson cut himself off, running through a series of memories rapid fire. Day staring at the Elite contract for ten minutes. Day telling Chloe he didn’t read so well. Day asking Jackson to order for him at the restaurant. Day’s phone reading his emails to him out loud. Jesus. Was that what Day was trying to hide from him? Was Day losing his vision? He didn’t think that was it.
“Is it pertinent to the case?” Jackson snapped.
Webster’s gaze went wide. “I don’t know. Probably not.”
“Then mind your own business.”
Webster gave him a mock salute and went back to clacking away on his keyboard. Jackson looked up at Day’s closed door before heading up the stairs and knocking gently on it.
“Go away,” Day shouted from the other side.
Jackson pushed the door open to find Day lying across his bed staring up at the ceiling. He kicked the door closed behind him and sat at the head of the bed.
“Guess I should have known better than to expect any privacy. If I can’t have it on my laptop, why would I have it in my room?”
“Dayton,” Jackson said softly.
Dayton’s gaze darted to him, and he rolled up onto his forearm, frowning. “What? Did Webster find something on my computer? Is that person spying on me or something?”
“No, it’s not that. I need to ask you something.”
Day shook his head, hand flailing. “What? Why are you looking at me like you’re about to ask me for one of my kidneys? You’re freaking me out.”
“Webster asked if there was a reason that you have software on your computer that helps the blind better use their computers… Is there?” Jackson asked.
Dayton’s mouth formed a perfect O, and then he flushed from his throat to his hairline, the tips of his ears turning bright pink. He snapped his mouth shut and looked away, rolling off the other side of the bed to pace. “So, what? I’m just lazy. I like to have stuff read to me. It’s not a big deal.”
“Day…”
Day stopped dead in his tracks, his arms crossing protectively in front of his chest as he sneered at Jackson. “What? Stop looking at me like that.”
Jackson frowned. “Like what?”
“Like you feel sorry for me. Like I’m some one-eyed homeless cat Sarah McLachlan wants you to fucking adopt. I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me. I pay my bills. I buy my own groceries. I’ve been making my own way in life since I could tie my own shoes. Stop looking at me like I’m defective.”
Tears streaked down Day’s cheeks, but Jackson wasn’t sure Day even noticed. He was too mad. Too humiliated. Jackson had