Samantha Hunter - Fascination

She didn’t want to pick up the envelope, but neither did she want to leave it there. Biting her lip, she knew it was meant for her. If someone else found it, it could be just as damning; she had to know what was in there. She could just take it and destroy it so that nothing in it could hurt her or anyone else.

Locke had barely changed in five years, but seeing him made her realize how much she had. In an instant she knew she didn’t want him back in her life and she feared for her freedom. He was tall and gaunt-looking in a very romantic, poetic way that had once appealed to her but now left her cold.

They’d met the summer before her junior year in college; he’d been an arts major, and she’d been in computer science. He’d been her first lover, and they’d had some good times. He was passionate and his adventurous spirit in bed had encouraged her own to blossom. Locke had been adventurous in other ways, too.

Though he’d studied art history, he was a hacker of brilliant proportions. He eschewed formal education and had taught himself everything he knew. And he knew a lot. He’d studied art as a form of camouflage. Who would suspect an art history major who studied restoration of renaissance paintings of being a master computer hacker? Sage felt the material of her jacket slide against the paper of the envelope and gulped.

Walking quickly up the street to her home, where she could inspect the package privately, she kept glancing around suspiciously, making sure she was alone. It wasn’t good news that Locke had showed up now. Being seen anywhere around him could violate her sentencing agreement. It was a relief to reach her house.

Throwing her jacket on the hall table, she held the thickly padded envelope in her hands and just stood quietly for a few minutes. When she finally ripped at the paper, an old zip disk and a letter fell out. She bent to pick them up from the floor. The disk was unlabeled, and she certainly didn’t have a computer to read it with. She opened the white slip of paper, feeling her heart sink.

To my LadyBug—

She closed her eyes when confronted with her old “nym”—her hacker pseudonym or nickname. Locke had christened her with it when he had discovered her budding talent for creating “bugs,” computer viruses. It was something she had done for fun; she’d never let any of them loose on the Net. It was enough for her to try to make the code work. She’d broken into some sites—sure, most hackers did—but she’d never been destructive in any way. Everything changed when she met Locke.

Opening her eyes again, she read.

I know this must be a surprise—hopefully a happy one. I’ve never forgotten you. I can only hope you still care since you didn’t tell them about me. You proved your loyalty. I’ve thought of you every day for the last five long years. I’ve missed you, baby girl.

Her skin crawled as she remembered how he’d always called her that and how she’d loved it, practically worshipping him, how he’d made her feel as if someone finally understood her. Locke had understood her—well enough to take advantage of her.

Remember the evenings we spent in the grotto planning our attacks? Well, it’s done, baby girl. It’s a true work of art, a testament to your sacrifice. I worked every day to finish what you started, and now it’s finished and ready to go. When you’re free, we’ll celebrate this great accomplishment together.

Always yours, Locke

Sage’s hands were shaking now, and the note fell from her hands to the floor. She stared at the disk, her heart in her throat. She didn’t need a computer to know what was on it—it was the thing that would take away her freedom for good.

IAN WASN’T QUITE SURE what he was going to do; he decided to just play it by ear and see what developed. He’d let a couple hours pass so that she wouldn’t get suspicious. But he’d been watching. She’d brought the package home, and he’d watched her through the window as she’d read something, seen her bend to retrieve an object she’d dropped on the floor. He wanted to know what it was.

His knock on the door received no response, but he knew she was in there and rapped his knuckles on the wood door again, harder. This time the door opened, his hand held up in midknock. Sage glared at him, seeming agitated but not surprised by his appearance.

“What do you want? It’s late.”

“Well, isn’t that a charming way to answer the door.”

“I don’t need to be charming with you.”

“True, and I don’t need to explain a random visit. Open up.”

Ian watched her move to the side and noted the tension in her stance and her expression. Something was definitely up. It wasn’t completely unprecedented for her to display bad temper when he showed up unexpectedly, but this was different.

She was guarded, protective. He could see it in the way she wrapped her slim arms around her midsection and how her eyes met his with their usual belligerence but none of the sexy challenge he usually encountered.

She was scared. He wanted to know why and of what. Of him? Of being caught? Or of something else?

“Everything go well today?”

“Jesus, Ian, I just reported in yesterday. Is it the usual practice to harass your people when they get close to the end of their sentences?”

“You’re making a pretty big deal over a random visit. And here I thought you were always glad to see me.”

The uncharacteristic flirtation, laconic as it was, triggered confusion in those green eyes, and he watched her lower her head before perusing the room.

“You mind if I look around?”

“You mean I have a choice?”

“No.”

Then something of the old Sage snapped into place, and she dropped her arms, placing one hand on her hip. “Yeah, I figured. Just try not to get too turned on by my bras hanging in the shower.”

Sliding her a look, he moved forward, going through the motions as he picked up a pile of mail and glanced through it, then at her calendar. No appointments slotted in for today, nothing she should have missed work for.

“You didn’t go into work today.” Looking up, he saw her slight surprise. Good.

“I wanted a day off.”

“Doctor’s appointment?”

“What, you want to know the results of my Pap smear?”

“I just wondered why you took the day off. They said you’d given final notice, as well.”

She leaned against the doorway, the white cotton T-shirt she was wearing pulling across her breasts as she stuck one hand in the pocket of her shorts. The little colorful clips that held some of her wild curls in place made her look impossibly young.

“Yeah. I did.” Her chin tipped up in challenge. “I hate it there. I’m leaving after my sentence is over, so you have no say in the matter. I want out of that place and away from you as soon as possible. I’m looking for a new job.”

“So that’s what you were out doing? Job hunting?” Made sense, he thought, remembering her outfit. Though it could also just be a cover for whatever else she was up to.

He’d checked out all the visible surfaces—no envelope. She’d hidden it or destroyed it, which made him even more suspicious. He’d have to do an extensive search to find it, but he couldn’t look around more than normal without raising her suspicions. He wanted to keep her off guard for the time being.

He continued his inspection, not really looking around so much as mentally scrambling to come up with a plan. He frowned. He had one idea, though it wasn’t a good one. He crossed back to where she stood, waiting for an answer to his question.

“Yeah, actually I had an interview, if you must know.”

“With whom?”

“Meyers and Dunn.”

Ian furrowed his brow. He’d met Jim Meyers once or twice at social affairs. He didn’t like him. The guy was a sleaze who didn’t even bother to hide it, married but never showing up to occasions with his wife. And the flavor of the month was usually someone just barely legal.