Code Name - Hacker (Jameson Force Security 4)

“You mean you didn’t remove it?” I ask, giving a slight tug against my bonds. Without looking down, I can tell it’s rope. I’m secured to what seems to be a wooden dining chair.

Not a flimsy chair, either. Seems very solid.

“Of course I removed it from my TV,” Bogachev scoffs as if I asked the dumbest question in the world. “Had some of my best people look at it, and we couldn’t quite figure it out. I mean… I suspected it was to steal data from me, so I immediately moved my computers and servers off-site. Plugged that little USB back into the TV, and I waited for you to make your move. Knew it wouldn’t be long.”

Christ, this is bad. My cover blown, caught by an egomaniac, and worst yet, I dragged Bebe into it with me.

“But how did you find us? How did you even know we were here in New York?” Bebe asked, and I’m pleased her voice sounds strong. I briefly move my attention from Bogachev to her. And yes, she’s scared, but she’s not cowed.

Bogachev shifts toward Bebe. “With my resources, you should have figured I have all the right people on my payroll.”

“Ken?” she gasps in shock.

“No,” I say confidently, and Bogachev swings back my way. “Ken was clean. No way you breached the FBI. I’m guessing local police. They are on liaison with us today. Provided the city van and were alerted to give us a wide berth and not to interfere with our work.”

I get a smug grin in return. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. But not smart enough to suspect I was on to you.”

“I knew it was a risk,” I grit out, getting tired of him wanting to rub my face in it. I pull my legs in slightly, planting my boots solidly on the tile floor. If I’m going to make a move, it’s going to be soon. I’m feeling slightly stronger now I’ve had some time to get my bearings. My head still hurts like a motherfucker, but I’ve got the desperation to protect Bebe fueling me.

Apparently, Bogachev is as done with me as I am with him because he moves a foot over, putting himself right in front of Bebe’s chair. It’s a clear statement he’s done talking to me.

Giving her a broad smile, almost prideful in nature, he almost purrs, “And look at you, Bebe. You know, you were my brightest star. I had such high hopes for you.”

“Go fuck yourself,” she growls. Even though I don’t want her to antagonize him into doing something, I’m proud of her backbone.

His smile turns feral and malicious. He bends at the waist, putting his face closer to hers. I pull against the ropes, testing to see if there’s any give.

I give Bebe credit. She doesn’t shrink away from him. Instead, she glares with hard, unforgiving eyes.

His hand comes up, and he almost tenderly glides his knuckles across her cheek. Anger sweeps through me so hot I actually feel chilled from it. That he would dare touch her in such an intimate way makes me itch to beat him to a slimy pulp.

“I’ll never forget how sweet you were,” Bogachev murmurs to Bebe in a low rumble of appreciation.

For a moment, I don’t understand what that means. Bebe’s expression slackens, her eyes dulling a bit.

“I’ll never forget how much you wanted it,” he whispers, but the words are harsh and grating on my ears. I can feel my blood pressure rising as understanding starts to dawn on me. I mean… I think I know what he’s saying, but I don’t want to believe it.

“I never wanted it,” Bebe hisses. “You merely wanted to control me. Scare me.”

I lurch against my bonds, trying to reach Bogachev, but I’m held tight. My pulse is pounding so hard my ears feel muffled, and I’m slightly dizzy.

“Want me to prove you wrong?” Bogachev taunts, moving even closer to her.

“What is he talking about?” I demand in a barking sort of shout. But I know what he means. I fucking know… and I’m going to kill the bastard.

Bogachev doesn’t pay me any attention, merely tilting his head to level a soft, proprietary smile at Bebe. But it’s me he addresses. “Oh, Bebe and I are very intimate with each other.”

My blood turns to ice, my body freezing in place.

Bebe turns away from him, but she won’t look at me. She grits her teeth in disgust, and I can see the shame on her face.

It does something to me.

Changes me forever.

That he would make her feel that way enrages me.

“You wanted it, Bebe,” Bogachev murmurs in a smarmy, overly sexual way. “You know you did.”

She whips her head back, teeth bared and snarling. “I never wanted it. You’re a disgusting pig. The only way you can get it is to pay for it or take it by force. You’re a sad little man with a tiny, pathetic dick and—”