Page 76 of Web of Lies
He frowns. “What are you, my mother now?” He groans, poking me in the center of my slightly smudged forehead.
Zepp snorts from across the room, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Someone needs to keep you in line. Might as well be her. She could probably kick your ass,” Zepp says, trying hard to keep back his laugh.
“I do have a mean nut kick.” I grin in victory as Seger sits up straight in his seat, placing his hands protectively over his groin.
“Fine, Mommy, I’ll go put my uniform on,” he grumbles as I get out of his way.
“I’ll walk you back to your apartment,” Zepp says, gesturing for the door. “I can even cover for you if you want.” He says, running a hand on the back of his neck.
I nod as we head out the door. “That would be great. I need to get these hooked up ASAP,” I say, making our way out on the front lawn and through the maze. The naked bodies that littered the yard have left, leaving trash in their wake.
“Anyone clean?” I ask, pointing toward the trash.
“It’ll get cleaned,” he says through clenched teeth, eyeing the carnage of Seger’s party. He huffs, walking faster, leaving the mess in the dust.
Zepp walked me back to my apartment thirty minutes ago and sent a text confirming he covered for me. Somehow, he flexed his computer skills by forging a note stating I was with the doctor and would be back, which suited me just fine because breaking into two phones is a process.
Hadley’s phone proved easier than Oscar’s. Hers didn’t have theAntiEyesinstalled, much to my surprise. So, every message, every email, and every phone call stayed on her phone. She didn’t have as many messages from Alpha on her phone, leading me to believe it was a hierarchy. The more you proved yourself, somehow, the higher up you got. The only thing Hadley’s phone verified was that she was Omega. The lowest of the low. Alpha praised her in the text messages repeatedly for breaking my nose. Prick. She’s lucky my online doctor said it was fine and should heal without setting.
Oscar’s phone proved more difficult. Just like Carter’s.AntiEyeshid everything until I could break through it. He was on the same text chains as Carter and after confirming back and forth between the phones. I confirmed Carter was Beta, Alpha’s second in command. And Oscar? Delta. Whatever he oversees, it places him right up there with Carter and Alpha. But who the fuck is Alpha? And the rest of them? Tracing both phones back to their origins leads me back to what Carter’s did. The Apocalypse. No address. No real name. Even the numbers associated with their phones lead back to the end of the world.
The moon rose into the sky by the time I was finished. So much for going to class today. I rattle off a text to Seger and Zepp, letting them know I’m on my way for my sushi dinner. I holed up in my room for the entire day, going through Oscar’s phone until everything disappeared from the screen. It seemed to me that someone discovered their phone had disappeared and panicked. AlthoughAntiEyeswould keep ordinary people out, it didn’t keep me out. Thankfully, I had gotten everything I needed to see before it went blank. The only downside? No mirroring could happen if I didn’t physically have his new phone. So, on my way towards the maze, I dumped his phone on the ground. Like he had lost it at the party last night. As I make my way through the mouth of the labyrinth, I throw Hadley’s phone through the bushes. Hoping she’ll find it later, thinking, she dropped while drunkenly stumbling around. I cross my fingers she’ll find it instead of buying a new one. Hadley’s phone got a very special treatment from me—veryspecial. Tons and tons of unnecessary viruses and porn now bog down her phone. She’s so low ranked. I’m confident nothing super important will come through to just her. I see it all through Carter’s phone, anyway.
I walk into the house like I own it, only giving a slight knock before entering. Seger is in the same place I left him this morning. His shirt is still off, but now, fuck no, he’s in a pair of tight jogging shorts. Showing off his tattooed, muscular legs and no shoes or socks. I take back the wet dream from before. This is even better. Damn, my hormones sure didn’t cool their jets. Instead, I’m hornier than I was before. Apparently, I need some action that I haven’t craved in years.
“Don’t worry, Mom, I went to class,” he says through a grin, staring at me with the same intensity as this morning. Bruises line his inked chest, and a fresh cut bleeds down his cheek. I stand over him, dotting a tissue across the bleeding gash, furrowing my brows.
“What happened?” I whisper, looking over the cut intently.
“Just football,” Zepp says, entering the room from the kitchen carrying a plate for me.
I take the plate and sit next to Seger’s unmoving body, biting into the sushi he brought me. “Do you ever tire of beating the shit out of people?” Seger snorts, swiping a piece from my plate.
“Nah—it’s too enjoyable.” He licks each finger and goes back to sitting back, looking like a dead man.
“So?” Zepp asks in anticipation. We decided not to text, email, or say anything outside of these walls in case of spies.
“Confirmed.” I nod, taking another moaning bite.
“Urghhh, New Girl, don’t do that beside me unless you want me to throw you on my bed,” Seger grumbles, half asleep.
I smile at the thought and flick his exposed nipple. “In your dreams, Handsome,” he yelps, covering his chest with his hand.
“So, both of them? Seriously?” Zepp asks, sitting back in the chair. I nod, explaining to them their names and how much was on each phone.
“You don’t think they suspect something, do you? His screen just went black in the middle of snooping like someone flicked a kill switch.”
“As long as you’re protected on your end, and they can’t trace it back to you. It should be fine,” he says with a shrug.
“All this nerd talk is making me tired. Peace out, Beautiful.” Seger looks over at me with a wink and stumbles to his feet, ruffling my hair. I slap his hand away as he laughs, heading toward a door across the room.
“You sleep here?” I ask with a raised brow.
“More often than not,” Zepp says, falling back onto the couch. His fingers rub along his eyebrows, trailing down his drooping face.
“Thanks for dinner, again,” I say, making my way into the kitchen, setting the plate into the sink. Only the dishes we used during our meal tonight sit in the clean sink.
“You don’t have to do that. We have someone who takes care of it,” Zepp says, waving a hand above his head. But his eyes narrow in on my movements, watching me work.
