Series: Silver Spoon MC Series by Nichole Rose
Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)
"Hacker's office," I murmur, nodding to my brother.
She spins to face me, her eyes wide and hopeful. "Did he…?"
"Let's go see, Mischief."
She grabs my hand, practically dragging me the short distance to my MC brother. He pushes away from the wall, meeting us with an amused grin stretched across his face. Like Bella, his girl is a handful, though for entirely different reasons. Scarlett is as sweet as they come, but she came complete with an aunt who keeps this town on its toes. Ms. Ophelia is the original gangster when it comes to hellraising. She keeps Hacker sweating.
"Giant," he says, smirking at me before he turns a smile on my girl. "Hey, sweetheart."
"Her name is Bella," I growl.
She elbows me in the ribs. Hard.
"Jesus Christ, woman."
"Oops. My arm slipped."
Hacker fucking cackles, the bastard.
"Laugh it up," I mutter. "See if I help you chase down Ophelia next time she goes on the lam."
His laughter dries up lickety-split.
"Who is Ophelia?" Mischief asks, eyeing me curiously.
"The coolest old lady you'll ever meet," I say. "She's a badass. You're going to love her when you meet her." Actually, shit. Maybe I shouldn't introduce them. God only knows what the fuck they'll do together.
Nah, I'm definitely introducing them. I can handle any trouble my girl gets into, and she'll love Ophelia. Besides, she deserves to see that there's nothing wrong with the way she is. Ophelia may be a troublemaker, but she's done more for this town than anyone else living in it. Bella needs that kind of role model. She needs to know that she's perfect exactly the way she is and that she doesn't have to change a goddamn thing or fit in any box.
"Cool," she whispers.
I glance from her to Hacker, who jerks his chin in a nod, silently letting me know that we're good to go. I exhale a relieved breath.
"Hacker has you set up to video chat with your family, Mischief," I murmur quietly, tipping her chin up to face me. "If anyone is trying to trace you through them, they won't be able to find you this way."
"I get to video chat with them?"
"Yeah, baby."
Her eyes grow damp as she looks between me and Hacker, gratitude searing her expression. "Thank you," she whispers, her voice shaking.
Hacker leads us inside, using his thumbprint to gain access to the building. The lobby is completely inconspicuous. Blue walls, dark furniture, and hardwood floors give it a lavish, comfortable feel. But there's no hint of what the place is. There's no reception desk, no logo on the wall, nothing.
He stops at the only door out of the lobby, using the retina scanner to open it. A blast of cold air hits us.
Bella shivers.
"Shit." I strip my MC jacket off and wrap it around her shoulders. The damn thing fits her like a dress, but she snuggles into it gratefully. She looks cute as hell. Might just have to get her into my clothes more often.
"Why is it so cold?" she asks.
"Servers," Hacker says, pointing to a row of equipment along the back wall. Lights flicker and flash, and the entire row hums and whirs like a thousand fans running simultaneously. "They generate a lot of heat, so I have to keep it cold to keep them running. If they overheat, it fucks up every other system I've got running."
"Oh."
"Through here," he says, holding open the door to his office.
Bella steps inside, her mouth gaping open when she sees his setup. It’s impressive. Two massive, curved monitors are stacked on top of one another, with smaller monitors on each side. He has three different keyboards of various types, about fifteen pieces of equipment that I have no name for, and a mouse neatly arrayed on top of his desk. I fully intend to steal his chair one day. It's comfortable as fuck.
"Holy crap. You're like the freaking Tesla of hacking," Bella mutters
Hacker chuckles, sliding around her to a laptop set up on the edge of the desk. "I get by," he says, all humble and shit. In reality, the man makes millions doing what he does. Everyone from Fortune 500 companies to the federal government has his ass on speed dial. "You'll call on this, Bella."
She drifts closer, listening as he runs through the instructions with her. It's simple, really. He's set the laptop up on a secure line that traces back to some other location. So long as she's connected to the VPN, using the phone number and program he installed, she can chat with her family whenever she wants.
"I'll swing by later to make sure you can access the VPN from home," he says.
She grabs his arm, her eyes wide. "I can talk to them from home?"
I growl, a low, rumbling sound.
Bella immediately drops her hand from Hacker's arm, jumping back a step. She turns those baby blues on me, damn near bowling me over.