his head away stiffly. “I have one final attempt at entering a passcode. I have tried the most common ones now I am left in a dilemma as I have one final try but two final common passcodes to attempt.”
"What if he used something more personal?" I asked with a sigh.
"Then I will be unable to break it. So we must hope that he was not CIA and that his simpleton mind would have lead him to using one of the common passcodes that countless sheeple use in this world on their own phones."
"Sheeple?" I questioned with a snort and his mouth twitched at the corner before he quickly schooled his expression back to a cold wall.
"People who are sheep, blindly walking through life doing as everyone else does," he explained and I laughed. "Knowing your upbringing, your father would have taught you the value of having a random passcode, am I correct?"
"Yeah," I said, bemused.
"Kyan uses one two three four entirely to irritate me, but whenever I get my hands on his phone, I change it and write it in invisible ink on his forehead while he's sleeping. He bought a UV light to ensure he can always find it before it's washed off in the shower."
I smiled at him, knowing that was his way of showing how much he cared about Kyan, protecting his private information. It may as well have been a candle lit dinner and a proposal for how much that meant coming from Saint Memphis.
We arrived back at The Temple and Saint walked away to take his shower while I headed into the kitchenette to make breakfast. By the time everyone sat down, I was anxious to see Saint attempt the final passcode.
"Don't keep us in suspense any longer," Monroe growled, having been badgering Saint to try his decided code all through breakfast. I had a feeling Saint enjoyed holding that power over everyone as he made us all wait. But I was getting pretty sick of it myself.
"Saint," I said sharply and he pursed his lips slightly before reaching into his pocket and taking out Mortez's phone.
Silence fell over us all as we waited for him to try the code.
"Which ones did you decide on trying?" I asked.
"Four four four four, or two two two two," Saint said thoughtfully. "Was Mortez a low numbers man with a flare for the easily reachable four? Or did he extend his thumb enough to hit the two? He did have large hands...perhaps he could reach the two as easily as the four..." Saint frowned.
"Just fucking pick one," Monroe insisted.
"How about we flip a coin?" Blake offered.
Kyan reached across the table, snatching it from Saint's hand and tapping in his own choice.
"No!" Saint roared but Kyan grinned widely.
"Guess he liked those twos," Kyan said, tossing the phone back to Saint. "We're in."
"Oh my god." I got up from my seat, moving around to look over Saint's shoulder and the other guys moved to do the same. Monroe stepped behind me, his hand resting against my back and the pine scent of him reached me. I soaked in the comfort of his closeness, holding my breath as Saint navigated his way to Mortez's messages.
"You're lucky Kyan, if you'd gotten us locked out I'd have had to punish you," Saint growled.
"If you really wanna spank me, Sainty, I'll go lay face down on your bed with my ass out, but don't blame me if I end up liking it," Kyan mocked.
"Don't tempt me," Saint muttered.
"Just show us the damn messages," Monroe said in frustration.
Saint opened them up and flicked through the first couple, clearly passed between his men on the night of the attack as they all got into position. But there was nothing in them more meaningful than that.
The only other messages he'd shared was with someone with the code name 52 and my gut clenched as he scrolled through them.
52:
Have you locked down the target?
Mortez:
We're following his daughter now, boss
52:
Call me when it's done.
52:
Where are you?
52:
Check in.
52:
If you have let me down on this Mortez, I will be revoking your privileges at Royaume D’élite.
"What do you think would happen if we replied pretending to be Mortez? Reckon this asshole will fall for it?" Blake suggested and I nodded in encouragement.
"Can't be worse than doing nothing," I said thoughtfully while Saint drummed his fingers on the table, clearly weighing up the pros and cons.
“What are you thinking?” I asked him.
“I am trying to work out the relevance of their