Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I roll my eyes. “Is sex all you ever think about?”
“Yes,” he replies in a matter-of-fact tone. “And so should you. You need to get busy with that. You have a lot of time to make up for.”
I consider this, and he would not be wrong about that point. But I’m also so far out of practice I feel like I’m a virgin again or something. Plus… I’ve got this inherent awkwardness about me having spent the last seven years so isolated from men and normal people in general.
On Saturday night, Griff didn’t seem to be in a rush. In fact, he didn’t press for anything more than a smoking hot kiss when he dropped me off at Jameson. He was going to leave early the next morning for New York, and we would not be in contact again until he was assured Bogachev was truly oblivious to what we were doing.
I’m not overly happy about him going to New York or the fact we won’t be in contact. I’m scared something’s going to happen. I had a horrible dream last night that Bogachev had actually been following Griff from the start, knew I was alive and well, and that Griff was working undercover with the FBI. I shudder when I think about the dark places my dream went to last night and the things Bogachev did to Griff.
But there is some merit in Griff wanting to do this face to face with Bogachev. He’ll be better able to judge the situation, which will give us some added reassurances as we continue to work to bring him down.
I scrubbed Griff’s phone for him Saturday night before he left Jameson headquarters. Removed every trace of me on it other than the two photos he chose to take with him, showing my death by drug overdose. In the off-chance Bogachev took a paranoid turn—which he often does—we didn’t want him to insist on seeing Griff’s phone and there be evidence of our past texts or phone calls. I also scrubbed Griff’s Google searches and maps he’d used when he was stalking me.
That was probably all unnecessary, but it makes me feel slightly better about Griff going back into enemy territory.
I gave Griff one more thing to take with him. I’d brought him down to R&D, then gave him a small device that looked like nothing but a small USB storage device. “If you can get this into any electronic device with a USB port in his home, I can possibly hijack his Wi-Fi. A TV is a good option since the slots are usually in the back and well hidden.”
Griff pocketed the device I had been working on, a project I had hoped would actually boost Wi-Fi signal strength but which I felt I could possibly use to communicate with once it was plugged in. I’d have to bust ass the next few days to work on modifications to the coding to see if we can use it to break through his security, but it was one more possibility if I couldn’t get in another remote way.
“Not going to give me the juicy details, are you?” Dozer asks glumly. I blink in confusion, lost in my worries over Griff and his meeting with Bogachev.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. My mind went elsewhere. I’m just worried about Griff going to New York.”
“I take that to mean you did not get laid this weekend then,” Dozer drawls, sliding off his stool. “I’m going to go out for lunch today. Feel like some Primanti’s. Want to come? You can tell me what, if any, lame stuff you did with Griff?”
With a few taps of my finger, I log off my workstation and shake my head. “I’m going to grab a sandwich in my apartment while working on some coding for the jacker I gave Griff to try to plant in Bogachev’s apartment.”
We both head out, locking up R&D until we return. No one is allowed in here unless it’s with Dozer or me—not even Kynan. As such, he doesn’t even have a key to get in, although I suspect he could bust in with brute force if he wanted. Dozer heads to the garage while I take the elevator up to the second floor, swinging by Kynan’s office to see if he’s in. I want to run some ideas by him that I have for a new drone idea, but it’s going to take a bigger budget than I currently have access to.
His office is dark and empty, so I move through the maze of agent desks toward the staircase leading up. I prefer to take the stairs when I can, mainly just to get a bit of exercise since I sit at a desk all day. The staircase itself is a work of art. The entire decor of our building is heavy with an industrial vibe. Sandblasted original red brick on the interior with exposed pipes and ductwork. The stairs are made of iron, cables, and reclaimed wood, and it seems to float upward through the second, third, and fourth floors. It even sways slightly if I bound up two steps at a time.