“Just chill.”
Seriously?
Her teeth sank into her bottom lip.
“It’s our device,” he confirmed. “I’m going to need your password.” He shot her a look, adding, “And don’t say Fuck You.”
She grimaced.
He smirked.
Then more assertively prompted her. “Nikki.”
She sipped. Sucked it up—as difficult as that was—by caustically saying, “One guess.”
His fingers didn’t touch the keyboard. Not at first.
They hovered mere millimeters away for the briefest of moments. Then he plugged in the letters to spell out Conner…and a screensaver of Nikki and her husband popped up. She was snuggled next to him, leaning over his shoulder, her mouth against his ear as she whispered something into it. While he grinned.
Nikki’s eyes squeezed shut and she turned toward the window.
She remembered exactly the words she’d uttered as Kate had snapped that photo.
I’m pregnant.
It was the only time she’d said that out loud.
Two days later, Connor was dead and Nikki miscarried.
“Just do what you have to do,” she ground out. “And then close the lid.”
“Nikki—”
“Just…for God’s sake,” she said on a mangled breath. “Just—”
“I have to validate if this program has been launched,” he told her. “There’s an encryption code embedded. It’s a one-time code, a one-time launch. If it’s been entered before now—”
“You’ll think I’m a terrorist.”
“Or a spy. It is your computer…”
“Fuck you, Damen.”
He sighed. “Evidence is evidence, Nikki.”
“Justice can be blind, Damen.”
She tore her gaze from the window and they stared at each other.
She wasn’t about to be screwed in this deal.
He said, “Let me enter the code.”
She pulled in a deep breath. Sipped her wine. Gave a slight nod.
Damen’s fingertips skimmed over the keyboard once more. Then he sat back.
Her breath caught in her throat as several intensely suspended seconds held them in limbo, while the screen turned black.