Page 11 of Beautiful Broken Vengeance

“Are you not a hacker?”

Her eyes are wide. “God no, I keep the department running, paperwork Don can’t stand to do and hackers can’t figure out. I worked my ass off to become a field agent, then I manage to land one of the top five cities everyone wants and I hate it. After I broke my leg last year I got stuck with Don. My husband was as relieved as me.”

My eyes flick to her bare left hand. She pulls out a chain that has an engagement ring and plain gold band on it. “Poor Binh, my husband puts up with so much. He didn’t want to leave his family behind in Houston. Then when I got Chicago, he freaked out. He’s willing to stay here in Chicago as long as I stay in this low-risk department.”

“Why don’t you just leave?”

Her shrug is thoughtful. “I worked hard to get here. I’m not willing to give up on all of it yet. What about you?”

“I’m just trying to help. They use me then threaten they’re going to throw me in jail and take away my computer. It’s always on their terms. I’m not okay with it anymore.” I give the excuse I came up with for John. It’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

A light chuckle. “You’re getting better at lying. Just so you know, Don told me about what happened to you. I warned him that he shouldn’t have and not to tell anyone else on the team. I’m sorry. I think he hoped it was a case of you always wanting to be an FBI agent like your uncle and you not being able to do Quantico or something.”

It’s a smack in the face. I loathe that anyone knows, that they’ll look at me with pity. That they’ll know I’m broken. Even if they’re right.

“Hey, don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. And Don won’t make the mistake of telling another person. I thought you should know. It felt wrong not to tell you I knew. I’m not an asshole who will ask questions. But if you want to talk then I’m here. I did a double master’s in accounting and psychology.”

“I never wanted to be an FBI agent.” The words are out before I can stop them.

She tilts her head. “What did you want to be?”

“Safe.” I hide from her soft black eyes full of pity, hating I couldn’t keep the word in. “I’ve always been good with numbers. Ray used to tell me I should be an accountant. I thought I would do it to make him happy, but none of it ever interested me.”

“How did you come to hacking?”

I shrug. “Looking for some people who were trying to escape consequences.” I’m vague because this woman already knows way too much about me. “I came across shit that shocked me with how poorly covered their tracks were. The government I sent the information to acted immediately, within weeks he and a dozen other men were in jail. I was proud of myself. Pulling that loose stitch unraveled a handful of others. Only this time the government I sent stuff to did nothing. That’s when I knew if I didn’t do something, no one else would.”

Her cell phone rings. “I need to get this. Let me know if you need anything.”

Forcing a smile, I nod even though I’m pissed. How dare John tell people? The fucker. For the first time in years I wish I had kept going with therapy so I could have one person to talk to about shit like this.

Normally, I took refuge in being alone—the only person I spoke with on a regular basis was the lady who came to clean and buy groceries for me. We didn’t talk much though, always surface chitchat about groceries and things happening in the city. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have someone to really talk to.

Running a hand down my face, I focus on the picture of one of the girls who went missing—a girl I’m almost positive I’ve found for sale in the Dominican Republic. What had it helped this girl to have friends? It was her best friend’s brother who sold her.

I have no awareness of time passing until the lights of my office flicker. “And that’s our time for the day.”

I shake my head. “I’m close—”

“Too bad. It’s five o’clock and I’m going home. Late nights happen often for us so when we can leave on time, we do. You can’t stay unless I do, so you’re going home too.” She motions me to stand.

Despite not wanting to I’m up, and moving out of the office to keep her from touching me. Damn it, the next thing I know we’re in the elevator. Her smile is smug, I bite my lip to not curse out loud.

She waits at the corner outside of the building. “And how are you getting home?”

I sigh. “The bus.”

“I’ll just wait to make sure you get a seat.”

Forcing a smile, I nod. “See you tomorrow.” This is the first day. I’ll have another chance.

Once I’m settled on the bus I try and come up with a plan for the rest of the week. Except my mind is fuzzy and it’s hard to focus. By the time I’m home it’s all I can do to crawl into bed.

* * *

I’m awakea little after two in the morning. I stand in the shower until I run out of hot water. Wrapping my robe around me I suck down yogurt while I bring up the show Presley mentioned. Now that I see it, it sounds familiar but I’ve never watched an episode.

During the years withhimthere was no television in the house. He taught me himself through books. The library in the large house was filled with everything from seventeenth-century books on flora and fauna to Agatha Christie. However, it stopped at literature in the fifties. He said the newer books were dirty and weren’t for my eyes.

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