“But it’s in code.”
“Right. Except it’s nine-year-old-kid code. It won’t take a genius to think of looking at it upside down.” He punched into his phone. “I’m deleting the account right now and setting up a new one. The Spider is going to think we’re idiots.”
“Who cares? He’s being well paid.”
“Guys of his caliber don’t waste time with idiots, no matter how rich they are. Idiots get you killed, Bryce.”
He was right. I’d fucked up. Majorly.
“The gym’s still open. We can go back to Snow Creek, go to the trainers’ office.”
“And tell them what?”
“That I lost something. It’s probably not that uncommon, Joe.”
“I’ll ask you again. What the fuck were you thinking even looking at that card while you were in a public place?”
I’d been thinking about his sister, about her new trainer, about everything Marjorie and nothing about the potential trouble I could get myself into.
In other words, I hadn’t been thinking.
I couldn’t tell Joe any of that. Not if I wanted to live. He’d hate me being with Marjorie.
But you love her.
I silenced my inner voice.
I couldn’t afford to love anyone right now, especially Marjorie Steel. She deserved a whole man, and I was so far from that.
“I’m sorry,” was all I said.
Joe stared down at the wooden bar.
“I’m done apologizing now, man. So either get over it or take me outside and pummel me. I don’t really give a fuck which one.”
No truer words. My life was crap. Total crap. Even my beautiful little son wasn’t giving me joy these days, which made me a crap father in addition to all the other crap that was my life.
“I’m tempted,” Joe said.
“Nothing stopping you that I can see.”
Instead, he grabbed a cocktail napkin and pen from across the bar. He hurriedly wrote some words on it and then handed it to me. “The new account and password, in code. Fucking memorize it right now, Bryce. Right fucking now.”
I looked at it. Ironman908 was the account name. Easy enough. Then the password in our code. I quickly translated it and committed it to memory.
I wouldn’t screw up again.
Which meant no six a.m. training session with Dominic James. If he was training Marj, so be it. I had to let go.
I had to fucking let it go.
No matter what it cost me.
And it might cost me dearly, for I’d just recalled something I hadn’t shared with my best friend.
I remembered where I’d learned our code.
Chapter Sixteen