Nash Brothers Box Set - Carrie Aarons Page 0,224

speed and heat, working on hacking every hackable thing I can find to unearth this person.

On the whiteboard hangs sheets of bank statements, lines of code, possible theories, and other documents.

“Well, fuck, this looks like something out of Killing Eve …” An amused smile paints Ryan’s lips.

Presley’s best friend from New York City is a total bombshell. She’s got the whole dark-haired beauty thing going on, and most of the time I’m not sure if she’s going to joke around with me or eat me for breakfast. Ryan is that effortless cool girl in a Victoria’s Secret model’s body, but with a computer nerd side that makes her so geeky, it’s hot. She should be the total package for me, and I see why Presley tried to set us up.

The only thing is, there is absolutely zero sexual chemistry between us. When I look at her, I can appreciate how attractive she is, but nothing deep in my gut stirs. My cock doesn’t twitch nor does my tongue tie when I think about talking to her.

We’re strictly platonic, and since we met at Presley and Keaton’s wedding, we’ve been professional friends. I’ve helped her with a few coding problems, and she’s consulted on a few of my cases … even though Kline wasn’t privy to those previous times.

With the email that had been sent, I knew drastic measures were necessary. It was now, or this would all end in …

I didn’t want to think about how it would end.

So I put on a brave face, called Ryan, strapped my proverbial boots on, and shut off my mind to everything other than catching this prick.

Inside, I’m a hollowed-out shell. After the email came through with the surveillance pictures of Penelope and the kids, I cut off contact. It’s been a full week and I haven’t seen her, returned calls, answered texts, or responded to any of my brothers’, or their wives, persistent nagging about dumping Penelope without so much as a goodbye.

They don’t know what kind of danger I’ve put her in, or the threats that have implicitly been made against them. If anything ever happened to her because of me …

I don’t know what I’d do.

When I’d brought dinner over to her house, I basically all but told her I love her. Without saying the words, I hoped to convey that meaning. Because I do … love her. What I feel for Penelope is stronger than any other human emotion I’ve ever held for another person.

But if there is a choice between keeping her safe and cutting out my own heart? I’d pick the latter every single time.

I am a self-proclaimed reformed asshole, so I know how to piss a woman off when it comes to matters of the heart. The best way to douse a romance with a bucket of cold water is to ghost her; give her absolutely no reason as to why you are ceasing all contact and then let her anger build while you ignore every attempt she makes to reach out.

Pretty soon, I’ll get a rage voicemail or text message. One that claims how much of a jerk I am, that I am a piece of shit for tricking her and her kids into thinking better of me. That she hadn’t wanted to start this in the first place, and who was I to leave her? That I am a selfish player who has no regard for anyone but himself.

She’s not going to be wrong, but Penelope would also never know how deeply leaving her is killing me.

After I lay out the entire case to Ryan and show her the ways in which I’d caught him seconds too late, we get to work. She’s busy tracing my steps, working backward on the progress I’d made with a fresh set of eyes. I am damn good at what I do, but it is personal … so it’s possible I missed something.

While she does that, I slave away, hacking my way through every available network in the state of Pennsylvania, and some beyond. If I catch even an inkling of our suspect, I follow the trail.

“Hey, Forrest, I came over to see if you still have that tube of foot cream you never used … have that wart again on my left toe, I guess I’m going to see if Keaton can freeze it off. I’m an animal, right?”

I don’t know how long we’ve been working when a door slams somewhere in the house. The next second,