Page 16 of Deep Fake

I didn’t bother to mention the unusually generous portion we’d received. Just commented, “I’ve never been disappointed here yet.”

Despite the large quantity, we left an empty plate. Most of the goodies went into Malone because the only thing better than eating them was watching him do the same. I bought him another coffee, listening to him talk about the effect the stalking had on his life. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in months. Even if nothing came through on a given night, he felt like he was waiting for it to happen. His dreams were permeated with terrifying messages and threats. The only thing he really managed to keep together was his work because it was necessary for survival.

When he finished, I knew I couldn’t keep him at a distance, hand him off to someone else to help. I had to do it myself because I was good and could see to it that this person never harmed him, or anyone, ever again.

Having finished up all the drinks and food, we had no more excuses to hang out at the café. It was time to go. But I didn’t want to leave him. I wanted to protect him, to ensure that he shed no more tears—which he had not admitted to, but I was fairly sure he had—and lost not one more moment of sleep, skipped no more meals over this matter.

“I think we need to continue this in a more private setting.”

He narrowed his gaze. “What do you mean? Aren’t you ready to pass me along?”

“Not now. I would like to take this a little further first. I never do this, but would you be willing to come over to my house with those devices so I can review what’s on them?”

I saw the doubt in his eyes before he suppressed it and said, “You did ask me to trust you.”

“And will you?”

“I don’t see an option. I can’t live like this.”

“Then get your stuff and meet me at my house in fifteen minutes.” He should have no problem doing that. Yes, I knew his address.

“That’s going to be a tight squeeze.”

“Drive carefully.”

Chapter Thirteen

Malone

Fifteen minutes.

Sketch told me to go gather my things and meet him at his house.

His house.

Not what I thought would happen at all, but I really had no choice. I had to trust that this man, this shady as fuck but with a voice like velvet man was someone who could get me out of this web.

And stupid me. Or smart me. I did. I gathered up all my electronics and piled them in a black duffle bag and followed him to his house.

Honestly, it didn’t seem like he was all too comfortable about asking me to come. Maybe he didn’t have visitors often.

Maybe he wasn’t a people person. That rang true judging by his initial lack of manners.

But over the course of the conversation, he softened.

The man lived in a modern mansion. Giant place in a gated community surrounded by other modern mansions but none rivaled his. We parked side by side in the driveway like a couple who arrived home from work at the same time.

I smiled to myself and sat while my car was still running, enjoying this temporary fantasy.

Wait, no, this guy was a hacker. Also, I was fully convinced that what he did skirted the lines of legality.

Not that it was any of my business.

“Come on in,” he said as he unlocked the door with his fingerprint and allowed me to enter before him. As I passed, I caught his scent, metal and steel, and the first wind of winter. Cold. Just like he had been earlier.

“Thank you.” I stepped inside and gasped. While the outside was sharp edges and thin lines, the inside was homey. Comfortable. Soft-looking furniture and blankets lay over the cushions. A large window near the back let all the sunshine in.

It was then that Sketch took off his hoodie after some keying in of things at the door. Alarm system, I suspected.