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HACKERS

A phone call echoes our office. Trilling. I groan in my sleep from a black beanbag.

"Who is calling?!" Lillian, who is sprawled out over the sofa, whines groggily. "Tim, get it, hurry up."

My lazy eyes protest from opening, yet my ears buzz with the sound, so I open them anyway. There goes sleep. I stand and step over red cups and pizza boxes on the floor. I hop past John and the two twins, who are passed out on the floor.

The place smells of alcohol and sauce from the pizza boxes. I go to my computer, wiping my eyes and picking up my iPhone. This must be the guy I'm working with. I answer, releasing a long yawn. "Hello?"

"Hello, this is Chris Johnson." A medium toned voice greets. "I'm calling to warn you to cut ties with the card, for your safety. I will be doing the same. I want nothing to do with it anymore." His tone is absolute.

What.....he wants nothing to do with 10 billion dollars??? "You are aware of how much money is currently on the balance, correct?"

"I'm aware; it's just..." He trails off, his voice going low. I press the phone closer to my ear in anticipation. "It's just not worth dying for or having others you love get hurt."

"Die? What do you mean? What happened?!!" I take a seat in my computer chair, my voice going shrill.

"A black SUV chased me down...there are hitmen involved. This kingpin sent out goons...this is beyond money now."

He's not wrong. I knew I had a bad gut feeling for a reason. "How can you cut ties successfully when you spent some of the illegal money? Plus, you have the rest of the cash in your bank account." I wait for a response, hearing John stir in his sleep.

"I'll get rid of the money; is there a way you can return it to the original payment?"

I take a moment to think. Hmm...I'm not sure how to do that, it'll be a first. But I guess returning it will get us off of a hitman trail. Hopefully. The crew and I will have to relocate as soon as I complete the transfer. I believe we can rewire the funds. "It's possible." I finally reply.

"I hope you can, please stay safe," Chris parts sincerely...even though he doesn't know me.

"Thank you, and you too." I hang up, pondering over the hitmen...and the ongoing attempt to breach this base. The crew and I shouldn't take any of the money off if it's causing such a lethal response. I need to talk to them. I look around at my peers. I have to tell them what's up.

I cup my hands around my mouth and yell. "WAKE UP!!!!" I power on all of the five computers, one by one. "HEY!!!" This time my voice bounces off the wall in a ring.

Wilson, one of the twins, shoots straight up as if hit with something. He stretches, then looks around. "HUH?!" He groans, highly bothered.

"Help me get everyone up; this is important," I respond gravely. "Please?"

Wilson analyzes my mood as he stands. "Have we been located?"

I walk and shake John awake, then Wiley. They both sleep like stones and don't budge from my shaking of their bodies. Wilson goes to wake Lillian, shaking her roughly. "Ahh....what the fuck!" She pounds at his chest; the sound slaps loudly over the room.

"You sleep hard, sorry. Tim is calling a priority meeting." He massages his chest, trying not to cry due to Lillian being heavy-handed.

I eye the computer screens as they load to a radar, displaying the radius of the home we are in...my home. No red dots of danger hover around the place...meaning no vehicles. Blue covers the radars...blue is safe. No activity, we're safe....for now. I go to a bathroom, turn on the sink, and fill a toothbrush cup with cold water.

Here goes nonsense. It's the only way to get these fuckers up.

Splash, I dump the cup of water right on the top of John's head, who jumps up like a mad, huffing demon. His soul out to fight someone...me....he spots me with the cup, and charges.

Lillian hops up and hustles over, her ruby hair flowing with her big boobs. "John, hey!" She blocks him from reaching me, regardless of being short. I clutch at a wine bottle beside me....just in case.

"MOVE NOW!!!" John threatens Lillian, who isn't affected by the brute force radiating from him.

Wilson slaps at his brother's cheeks and stands him up halfway, shaking him like a rag doll. Wiley's drowsy eyes shoot open lazily, viewing the standoff.

"Tim, what the hell do you have to tell us?" Lillian snaps.

John scowls. "Who the fuck cares, move Lil!!"

"Oh shut the fuck up, you got a little wet, walk it off!" She shouts, producing John to a glower of volcanic silence.

I let the wine bottle go. "I'm sorry, John, but you all need to hear this."

"

اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
I Can't Own You? (BOOK 1)حيث تعيش القصص. اكتشف الآن