The Insiders by Tijan

SEVENTEEN

Adrenaline was high.

He was coming. My childhood idol. The guy who was my sperm donor. I went through varying phases of excitement, fear, loathing, anger, impatience, and back to excitement. No matter the home front, no matter how he had hurt my mom—

And eeek. Ground to a halt. Hold up.

He hurt my mom.

That stomped everything.

Once I remembered that, dread took hold of me for the night and through the next day. But I was on pins and needles, expecting a guard to knock on the door at any moment.

None came.

The phone didn’t ring.

Kash had to return to where he was before the whole hacking incident, and even he didn’t text.

Nothing. I was on radio silence. Or I was on prison silence. I was in isolation.

The entire first day, I was waiting. Just waiting. Waiting to meet my father. Waiting for Matthew to sneak in. Waiting for Kash to show up and scold me for something. Waiting, waiting, waiting. That transitioned to a little less waiting the second day.

Boredom hit me that afternoon. Drastic, dull, soul-consuming boredom. I even took a trip to his garage to see what parts were there, if there were extra wires lying around. Maybe it was time to build a robot to keep Cyclone’s robot rabbit company, and once that thought hit me, I remembered that I had saved his entire file. It was one that I saved to my phone, not to the computer or internet. My phone, the one thing I still had access to. It’d been an automatic response when I saw it. I knew I’d want to read it later on, maybe even before bed. That was my version of nighttime reading.

Kash didn’t say I couldn’t—

No, he actually did, but would he really be that pissed if I peeked ahead, trying to help Cyclone? I could hide that I read it? He said no Wi-Fi. Technically, my phone didn’t have Wi-Fi anymore. It had satellite connection, but I was honoring our agreement. He said no computer stuff. It was hard. It was painful. But I was sticking to it.

So that night, I curled up on the couch and started reading.

I kept reading his file, all through the night, until I realized it was three in the morning. Three thirty-two, to be exact. Putting it away, feeling my stomach growling, I dismissed both and headed for bed. Cleaning up, brushing my teeth, I pulled on some pajamas and crawled under the covers … only to reach for my phone again. There. I saw a text that I had missed somehow.

Clicking on it, I saw it was from Kash.

Cameras show you’re being good. Did you tamper with the feeds?

I snorted out loud, then wiped the grin from my face. I wasn’t supposed to find that funny.

I’m being good. Reading on my phone, if you want to know the specifics.

Buzz from him.

Someone will come to the house tomorrow just after seven in the morning. You’ll be taken to the offices to finish cleaning up your mess.

A second buzz from him.

Go. Clean everything. Go back to the house.

A third buzz.

Your father had to stop in DC for something, fyi.

Oh. That—

Nope. That didn’t matter to me. He had hurt my mother. That’s all I cared about now.

Okay.

I started to go back to my reading, but then I texted again. I couldn’t help myself.

Me: You broke the cardinal rule.

Kash: What’s that?

Me: You didn’t ask what I was reading. You can’t have that many books in your library to not be a book lover. You should know that rule.

Kash: I already know what you’re reading and you lied.

I almost dropped my phone. How did he—

And it hit me. I forgot for a moment. Cursing, I typed out again, almost punching the phone.

Me: Not fair. Not right. No privacy.

Kash: You lost that privilege.

A second buzz.

Kash: Earn it. Earn. It.

I didn’t have a response to that, and after I didn’t text again, he didn’t either. Sighing, curling up on my pillow and tucking the cover to my chin, I folded my arms over it and brought my phone back up.

I read almost the entire file that night, finally stopping around five in the morning.

It was the doorbell that got me up in the morning.

It was who was ringing that bell that woke me up.

Peter Francis stood on Kash’s doorstep.

Kash said “someone.”

Well, someone it was.

I had hoped, but a part of me assumed it’d be a guard. Nope. My da—Peter Francis, I mean.

It was actually him.

I wouldn’t pass out. Nope. No way.

My heart was pounding, and holy hell; my hands were all sweaty. When did they get like that?

I remained quiet because this was his show. He showed up. No doubt he was pissed, and here I was. The outlier child, messing up his cyber security, and he had to fly all the way back just for me.

I should’ve been overjoyed.

Okay. I kinda was.

This was my father. Holy shit.

Back to the sweaty palms.

He’d been my idol, growing up. That awestruck doesn’t go away. It’s in the blood, but I was fast remembering my circumstances, and that I was still not wanted here, so that was helping with the fangirling going on in me.

Still. Quiet. I could do that.

I swallowed.

He was staring me down, studying me. I was studying him right back. Dark hair. Blue tint to it. Hazel eyes like me.

I had his brain.

This was my sperm donor. That was for sure.

He was taller in person.

I knew his stats. I knew his weight, 190 pounds. His height at six feet exactly. He probably shaved once a day, and there were some whiskers showing, so I figured he’d skipped it this morning.

And he was one of the most powerful men in the cyber world.

I was about to hyperventilate here.

“Are you ready?”

That was it. Those were the first words my father ever said to me.

Was I ready?

I blinked. I couldn’t have heard that right. “What?”

He stepped back, moved aside, and gestured to the main house. “Kash said you would fix everything, since you could do it the fastest. I’m going to watch you while you do it.”

Watch me.

He was going to walk me there, watch me, and then what?

“Really? That’s all you have to say to me?”

He shifted again, his head down, and he tightened his mouth.

“Some of your breaches are time sensitive. You broke them. Kash is right. You’re the best one to fix them. I could, but it would take me longer.”

This was Kash’s idea? I thought it’d been Peter’s.

Peter was moving forward, but then stopped. He was waiting for me. He didn’t look back at me again but was still pausing. It was obvious. I got the unspoken message, and with a heavy sigh, I walked with him.

My heart was sliced in half.

As we walked, pieces of me split off. I was leaving a trail behind me.

He was here for work. For time-sensitive shit. Because I could fix everything faster than he could.

There went another piece, just thinking of that.

We kept going and my mind was racing.

I should make him explain everything to me.

I should confront him about Chrissy, about how he left her, why he left her. Why everything. Did he know about me? Did he not know about me? If he did, why didn’t he reach out to me? Talk to me? Even send a card? Something. Anything.

Why wasn’t I good enough?

What was wrong with me?

Why didn’t he love me?

All those questions were ricocheting in my brain, but at the same time I was memorizing everything about him.

I was walking next to my dad. Whether I would like him after this or not, love him after this or not, hate him after this or not, this was a day I would always remember. It would be in my brain, and not because of my photographic memory. This was a day that any child in my shoes, either forgotten or left behind, would remember until the day their heart stopped beating.

He wasn’t dressed how a business dad would dress—or maybe he was. He wore khaki pants. A dark blue warm-up jacket. There was a white collar underneath, so he had a nice-looking white shirt, one that could be a polo.

He had a Rolex Daytona on his wrist. Rose gold band.

A wedding ring.

His shoes were Nike sneakers.

His hair had been combed to the side. There was a part from where his fingers wove through it, brushing it over. His face was tan. His hands tan. He spent time in the sun, maybe from golfing. I didn’t know. I remembered a magazine article that said he enjoyed rowing.

Who rowed around here?

Well, maybe he did.

I was still going with the golfing though. His house was in the middle of his own personal golf course.

He walked with a slight bounce that pushed him further, to go faster, and as if sensing my scrutiny, he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. His head went down. His shoulders bunched forward, and he picked up his pace.

He wanted to get this done with.

He wanted to be done with me.

We went past the main house, around to the side, and to that building with the three garages I had noticed when we drove in. As we drew nearer, the back door opened. A guard came out, holding the door for us.

No words were exchanged. The guard didn’t even make eye contact.

Peter moved forward, leading the way.

I paused, just on the doorstep, and looked up at the guard. I don’t know why I did that. Maybe I wanted to memorize him, too.

Or maybe I wanted one more second to remember this morning.

Seven in the morning.

A slight chill in the air.

The sky was a pewter gray.

I heard the sounds of birds. Ducks. Others chirping.

I felt mist in the air. Knew it would rain later.

This morning was the day I walked beside my father.

This was what I wanted to memorialize, because once I went in there, when I sat behind a computer, I wouldn’t think about this again. I would get sucked into that world and all of this would go away, so I drew a breath in, waiting one beat, knowing everything was committed to my long-term memory, and then I went inside.

He was waiting for me, a funny look on his face.

I ducked my head, avoiding his eyes.

He opened a door, and going through it, I was in the main control room.

This was my world, my haven.

The main computer was already booted up. He waited at the door, and there was no reason for words after this.

I sat down, got up close to the computer. There were headphones at the ready, and once I started, someone brought me coffee. I didn’t ask, and I knew it wasn’t him, because it was a slender wrist, but I drank it. I kept working.

It took an hour to put everything back for Cyclone’s files. Thirty minutes for Matt’s. Forty-two minutes for Seraphina’s. Forty-one minutes for Quinn’s. I hated it, but it was another full hour to return everything for Marie.

I never hacked him.

What they wanted from me was done. I restored everything and I could’ve pulled away from the computer, shut it down, and returned to Kash’s villa.

I didn’t.

My fingers were already typing before I thought about it, but I did other stuff. I reinforced their firewalls. I put in a new surprise security program. It would be there if someone got through again. And then I started writing code that would close the holes I had used in the first place.

I secured Cyclone’s IP address.

I put in a double lock on the whole system, and I even put in a small system that would sniff out anyone like me and send a preliminary alert to the entire security system.

During all of this, he stood behind me. I knew it because I could feel him. There were moments I forgot he was there, but a sixth sense kept pricking at me, and I knew that was his scrutiny. He never wavered the whole time, so I just worked through it.

I went through four cups of coffee and two energy drinks.

When I was done, I shoved away from the computer and had to dash to the bathroom. My bladder was bursting to be released. In the stall, I did the math. I’d been working to repair and then make his system better for six hours. I had started after seven. It was almost two in the afternoon.

Why did I do that? Why did I help to better what he did for a living?

I didn’t want to know the answer or think about it, but I couldn’t help myself. Approval. I wanted his approval. And I tasted my own shame at realizing that.

He had cast me out.

I shouldn’t want his approval or anything. His acceptance. Nothing. He obviously wasn’t going to give it or he would’ve said something before we walked here, or on the walk.

He was quiet the whole time, but still … A thought was pricking me again. He was behind me for six hours and watched everything. Who would do that?

He never drank anything. He never ate anything. I would’ve noticed, because while I hated it, I was still keenly aware of him. He never left the room to use the bathroom, phone. Nothing. There’d been no sounds of him texting.

That was something. Right?

Had to be.

Had to mean something that he stood and watched me work and never left, not once.

Or maybe my hope was starting again, and I needed to squash it. Yes. That was it. I had to eviscerate that. It was his job. My job. He wanted to see what I could do.

That’s why he watched me.

Yeah.

Bitterness spread through me. Pain tore at me. But that made the most sense.

Business. His business. That’s the only reason he never moved while I worked.

Leaving the stall, washing my hands, my feet were moving like I was walking in slightly dry cement. It was hard to trudge through it. Then I was in the hallway and he wasn’t there.

See.

I was right.

But I was done, so I could go back to the villa. Heading for the exit, I heard their voices as I neared the door.

“Fuck, Dad. This is what you were doing today?”

I reached for the door handle.

“Settle down, Matthew. I wanted to see her skill level in person.”

I paused and waited, my breath held.

Both were irritated. Both were snapping at each other. But Matt’s voice held an extra edge while Peter’s held something else … maybe confusion?

He kept going. “She’s got a gift. It’s unbelievable. I wish you had that gift.”

Matt snorted. “Of course. You get your system blown to pieces and you’re already reveling in how great she did it. You’re standing here telling me what a fuckup I am at the same time. Nice, Dad. Nice. Super loving father you are.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth, but you’re right. I don’t need a son that parties all hours of the day and night, has one job to do and still can’t get his life together. Kashton does your job for you half the time—”

A harsh laugh from Matt ripped through the air, ripped through me even.

“God. Jesus. You think Kash only does my job?” His tone was mocking now. Biting too. “We both know he runs half your businesses.”

“One!”

I jumped back from Peter’s sudden bellow.

“One job! One goddamn hotel to manage. You’re not even managing it. You have managers to do that. They are supposed to report to you, but I’ve sat next to Kashton while he gets the reports from them. One hotel to overlook and even that you’ve fucked up. Whose son are you?”

The cold chill in that last question. It pierced me.

I wasn’t the only one. Matt was silent. I almost started forward, then I heard him. He sounded beaten down.

“You’re right, Dad. I’m the fuckup here. And yet, of the two of us, I’m pretty certain I’m the one waiting for her because I share blood with her.”

He didn’t say anything else.

Neither did Peter.

He was just silent.

Kash: How’d it go?

Me: It went.