Page 16 of A Boy Is a Gun: Part II
“But never mind all that,” She climbs back into bed with me, “are you ready for round two?”
I’m ready for round two, but not with her.“I might have to take a rain check on that.I need to handle some important business right now, but later?”I kiss her lips and then her forehead.She moans her appreciation.
“Promise, Cam?”She pouts.
“No, but you’ll see me later.”I can promise that.
The next day, I staged a robbery and break-in at my home, and video footage was mysteriously stolen, including Morgan’s words on tape in 4K.Que went to Morehouse and graduated with a degree in Computer Science, and used to work for some of the top companies in the world before he quit corporate life.He can break into almost any computer program and wipe it clean without a trace.He’s a natural hacker.
He also has friends in high places at every social media company, radio, and television station.Morgan’s words were broadcast everywhere before most people had a cup of coffee.
Morgan immediately quit the university and shut down all her social media, and her father is under investigation at the police department, with a resignation coming soon.
That’s only strike one.
~~~~~
THE HOUSE IS DARK ANDquiet now.Just me, the low hum of the fridge, and the glow of Que’s laptop in the corner.He’s on my couch, eating cereal like he didn’t just commit digital warfare twelve hours ago.“You know,” he says between bites, “I’ve ruined careers before.But this?This was art.”
I sink into the armchair opposite him, whiskey in hand.“She thought she could use me for access.”
“She thought you were stupid,” Que corrects.“Like you didn’t know her type.”
I take a sip.“They always tell on themselves eventually.”
Que chuckles.“Yeah, but most don’t do it on camera in 4K, lit like a Netflix doc.”
The footage was surgical.Morgan’s high-pitched laughter, the venom in her words, the smug confidence of someone raised to believe the world would never punish her for being exactly who she is.
Now she’s a meme.A cautionary tale.A morning news segment.And her father?His “routine traffic stops” are getting subpoenaed.
Que leans back.“You want me to kill the next one quietly, or you want fireworks again?”
I shake my head.“No.Strike two’s going to be personal.Quiet.Just between me and them.”
He raises an eyebrow.“Them?”
I don’t answer right away.I’m already thinking about the next name on the list.Not Morgan.Not her dad.Someone else who forgot who I was.Someone who let power turn to arrogance.Someone who thought I wouldn't bite back.
I swirl the whiskey in my glass, slowly.“Jamie and Ethan,” I say, eyes on the glass.“What happened at their wedding was only the start.”
