Conspiracy Girl (30 page)

Just when I think I might burst, Finn stops kissing my neck and takes my face in his hands. He looks at me, a dark glimmer in his eye that sends a shiver right through me. Keeping my gaze fixed
on his, my pulse spiking, I slide my hands slowly down his chest and take hold of the bottom of his T-shirt. My fingers graze the warm skin at his waist and I watch him draw a breath and then
swallow, his jaw tightening.

He lets go of me for just a moment, so I can ease his T-shirt off over his head, and then he does the same to me, and soon we’re sitting on the bed, facing each other with nothing between
us, literally and figuratively.

He waits for me to make the first move and I do, tracing my hands tentatively over his bare shoulders, down the defined ridges of his stomach. My fingertips graze the scar by his hip and rest
there. His chest stops rising and his stomach muscles contract as though he’s holding his breath.

‘What’s this from?’ I ask him.

A dark look passes over his face and his grip on my waist loosens. Oh God, I’ve said something wrong. I touch his face, bringing him back to me. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean
to go there,’ I tell him. ‘You don’t have to tell me.’

‘It’s OK,’ he says, before taking a deep breath. He lies down, staring up at the ceiling, and my gut ties itself into a knot. My body craves his touch but I sit motionless
beside him, waiting for him to continue.

‘My mom had a boyfriend for a time,’ he says after a moment. ‘He was abusing Rob. I didn’t know. No one did.’

‘Abusing how?’ I ask, fearful of the answer.

Finn pulls a face and I don’t need any other words to know what he means.

‘Oh God,’ I whisper. ‘I’m sorry, that’s terrible.’ Instantly I regret ever asking him. I don’t mean to open up the past.

Finn turns his head to look at me. Seeing my expression, his own softens. He reaches for me and pulls me down so I’m lying beside him, my head resting on his shoulder. His hand strokes
down my arm and his voice becomes a low rumble in my ear as he keeps talking.

‘One day, when I was about seven and Rob was twelve, the boyfriend decided that he’d had enough of Rob – he wanted someone younger, someone who couldn’t fight
back.’

My stomach draws back against my spine and my own hand, resting on Finn’s chest, freezes.

I feel Finn’s heart thumping hard beneath my palm, feel his rib cage rise as he takes a deep breath in.

‘Rob walked in, saw what was happening, and threw himself at him. They started to fight.’ Finn stops suddenly.

‘What happened?’ I say, propping myself up on an elbow and looking down at him.

‘There was a knife,’ Finn says, staring off into the middle distance. His voice is toneless. ‘Just a kitchen knife, lying on the table. Next thing I know, Rob’s got it in
his hand.’ He pauses. ‘He stabbed him in the stomach with it.’

His gaze flicks to mine. In it I see a slight trace of fear – like he’s worried about my reaction. But considering that only a few hours ago I stuck a knife in a man like he was a
piñata, I’m not one to act horrified by what he’s just told me. Finn seems to realise this, because he lifts his hand and strokes it down my cheek.

‘What happened next?’ I ask.

‘The guy pulled the knife out of his stomach. He was pouring blood but he didn’t even seem to notice. He was so angry and he came at Rob with the knife in his hand and . . . ’
Another deep breath. ‘I stepped in the way and he stabbed me instead.’

I take Finn’s hand in my own and squeeze, tears stinging my eyes. ‘Finn, I’m so sorry,’ I stammer, the words sticking in my throat.

Finn gives me a weak smile. ‘It’s OK. The guy wound up in prison for attempted murder.’

‘Good,’ I say.

‘But because of prison overcrowding,’ Finn continues, ‘he was given an early release date. He served just five months.’

I make a grunt of disapproval. What kind of justice system do we have?
Finn is right
, I think angrily. Justice isn’t usually blind, but it is often blindly stupid.

Finn pulls me down then, so I’m lying across his chest. He kisses the top of my head. ‘It’s OK. The day before they were going to let him out he was killed in a prison
fight.’ He pauses for a second before adding: ‘Guess there’s karma after all.’

We lie there for a few moments, wrapped in silence. I close my eyes, listening to the steady beat of Finn’s heart, thinking of all the things he’s lived through. I get now why he
fights so hard for the underdog, why he doesn’t always believe in the justice system working. I get too why he does the job he does, why he works in cyber crimes despite the horrors he is
forced to witness every day, why he always fights for the victim.

Because he was once one himself. And, like me, he refuses to be one any more.

I wriggle out of his arms and slide my way down Finn’s body until I’m level with his scar and then I press my lips to it, wishing I could erase it and all the hurt that goes with it.
I know that’s impossible. Both Finn and I will always carry scars, inside and out. Showing each other those scars, admitting them, was the first step. Now with each other’s help, maybe
they’ll start to fade.

I feel Finn’s body tense beneath me, hear the groan as I slowly start exploring him, taking my time as I kiss every inch of his bare skin. Finally it gets too much for him and he reaches
for me, flipping me off him with expert ease and laying me down on the bed.

He leans over me, one hand on my hip, and stares down at me.

‘Come closer,’ I whisper, my hands looping around his neck.

I pull him down, relishing the weight of him on top of me, wanting more.

‘How close?’ he whispers back, his lips just above mine.

I tug him down until his lips brush mine. ‘Closer,’ I murmur.

We lie in each other’s arms not saying much, just content in the silence, in each other’s nearness. My heart is still beating furiously and I can feel Nic’s
chest rising and falling fast as she catches her breath. A thin skein of sweat beads her skin and I can’t stop myself running my palm the length of her body. I’m not sure I’m ever
going to be able to move again.

Finally, though, Nic wriggles out of my arms and rolls off the bed. I groan and reach for her but she skips out of the way.

‘I have to walk Goz,’ she says, laughing. ‘Otherwise he’s going to drop some more bombs in the loft.’

I sit up, rubbing my eyes. It’s late afternoon. We’ve been in bed for most of the day. I’d happily spend the rest of the day here too – actually make that the rest of the
week – but my computer is blinking. I wonder if Ivars has messaged me. I totally managed to forget about Vorster for the last seven hours.

‘OK, but take him up on the roof,’ I tell Nic. ‘I don’t want you out on the street alone.’

She gives me this look, kind of half amused and half annoyed. ‘I have Goz.’

‘He’s wounded,’ I tell her.

‘I can kick-box,’ she answers back.

I stand up and walk towards her. I know she tries not to but her gaze falls to my chest, then lower, and I see the flush rise up her neck.

I take her face in my hands and kiss her on the lips. Then, touching my forehead to hers, I whisper, ‘Humour me. This isn’t over yet. Go up to the roof. I’ll follow you. If you
like, I’ll show you my telescope,’ I say kissing the tip of her nose.

She shakes her head, laughing and dancing out of my arms, then grabs her sweater. ‘Come on, Goz,’ she calls over her shoulder.

I pull on some sweatpants, also opting for commando, and drop down to the floor where I’ve set up the computers. There’s an email from Ivars and he’s put a smiley face in the
subject line. Ivars is not the kind of hacking genius to use smiley-faced emoticons lightly.

I click on the email and then follow through with a fist pump. It’s as I expected. I attach the document Ivars emailed me to a new email and send it to the personal account of the CEO of
Vorster – a man called Henrick Grobler – with a message telling him that if he doesn’t back off Aiden and Nic, the information will be made public and the attacks on his
company’s website will continue ad infinitum.

Smiling, I stand up and stretch.
That should most definitely do it
, I think to myself. Aiden should be safe to get on with his business now. It was really that simple in the end. Aiden
should have just come to me in the beginning. It would have saved a lot of trouble. And more than a few lives.

Grabbing my shoes – no time for socks – I head to the door, glancing as I go at the cube and wondering whether we need to find a bigger apartment. I can picture Nic’s clothes
lying all over the place, me cooking her dinner while she practices kick-boxing, wearing just my shirt. Maybe we need a place with a decent garden so Goz can run around. Maybe we can get rid of the
security systems while we’re at it.

I shake my head. I’m getting way ahead of myself. We’re still just getting to know each other. And, first things first, I need to go and find Nic and tell her that phase two is
complete, that from here on in she’s safe. Then I want to take her for dinner to celebrate. Not to my favourite steak house though. I might have to find a new one of those unless I want my
steak to come with spit sauce.

Just as I’m pulling open the door, the buzzer sounds. It’s Maggie. I let her in. She runs up the stairs and when she sees me she throws herself into my arms. ‘Thank God
you’re OK,’ she says. She pulls back, keeping hold of me by the arms. ‘Tell me everything,’ she says. ‘In detail. What happened?’

I slip the latch on the door so Nic can get back in and turn to face her. The bruise on Maggie’s face from where she hit herself with the gun has turned an ugly yellowy-purple colour and
the stitches look gruesome. ‘Where do you want me to start?’ I ask.

‘Where’s Nic?’ she asks.

‘She’s taking the dog for a walk.’

Maggie glances at the bed, the covers strewn across it, the feathers scattered across the loft floor. She arches an eyebrow at me, smirking. ‘You totally fell for her, didn’t
you?’

I shrug. I don’t want to have to explain myself. Maggie arches an eyebrow and smiles smugly but thankfully doesn’t push for more details. ‘Where’s Wise?’ she asks,
changing tack. ‘And the other guy?’

I rub a hand across the bridge of my nose. ‘They’re both dead,’ I tell her.

Maggie’s expression doesn’t change but her shoulders stiffen. ‘Where are the bodies?’ she asks.

‘It’s dealt with,’ I say, hoping she doesn’t ask for details. I don’t want to bring Aiden into this, or ‘Dan’ the man. I want everything as simple as
possible, which is why I then say: ‘We’re not going to the FBI with this, Maggie. We can’t.’

Her head cocks to one side. ‘Why not?’

‘Because the FBI won’t be able to do anything. There’s nothing concrete to pin on Vorster. It’s all circumstantial. And you’ll get in trouble for what you did,
leaving Nic with me. Nic can tell them she ran away and met up with Aiden. We’ll figure something out.’ Mostly I don’t want the FBI investigating me and what I’m doing,
because it isn’t exactly legal and also I don’t want Nic having to go through any kind of investigation into the deaths.

Maggie presses her toe against the side of the cube. Her shoulders are hunched and she’s thinking hard. I’m asking her a lot to cover this all up. It means keeping the secret about
Wise, as well as lying about his connection to Vorster. She’ll probably miss out on a once-in-a-lifetime promotion.

She looks up and nods, and I feel a weight slide off my shoulders.

‘What are you doing about Vorster?’ she asks.

I shrug, unable to keep a smile at bay. ‘Blackmailing them.’

‘You took their site down.’

‘Yeah,’ I say, surprised she checked.

‘What else have you done?’ Maggie asks, strolling the length of the loft. ‘Their shares have already taken a tumble.’

I grin widely. That’s exactly what I was hoping for. ‘They’ll nosedive even more by tomorrow when the
Washington Post
article comes out about their use of blood
diamonds and their epic tax evasion.’

A furrow appears between Maggie’s eyes. ‘But how do you know that they won’t retaliate?’

‘Because I have the CEO, Henrick Grobler, over a barrel,’ I say.

‘What kind of a barrel?’ Maggie asks.

‘I got a Latvian friend I know to dig for some dirt on him.’

Immediately, Maggie’s eyes light up with curiosity. ‘Oh yeah, what did he find?’

‘The mother lode. We found photographs on his home server that he definitely won’t want leaked.’ I laugh under my breath. ‘They were encrypted but my friend, Ivars, found
them.’

Maggie’s head snaps up. ‘Ivars?’

‘I met him online. He’s a hacker, little bit of a criminal mastermind. Nice guy, you’d like him. We formed a group together a couple years back. We police areas of the internet
which get a certain type of traffic. You know the types of places.’

‘So you’re a vigilante now?’ Maggie asks, and I notice a trace of scorn in her voice which makes me do a double take. Maggie worked cyber crimes – she knows just as well
as I do how dark that world can get and how it needs every single last person it can get to police it.

‘Why’d you bring in this guy, Ivars?’ she asks.

‘He’s good, and I’m not fully in the game yet,’ I say pointing at the cube. ‘I’m limited. And Ivars developed a software package that can remove pixellation
from images, meaning we can identify people from photographs where their faces have been blurred out.’

‘What kind of photographs did you find?’ Maggie asks.

‘Not the kind you’d want decorating your mantelpiece. Think
Fifty Shades
, with a whole lot more rubber and no one as good-looking as Christian Grey.’

Maggie frowns at me.

‘That’s our collateral,’ I tell her. ‘He calls off his dogs, or we go public and destroy him.’ I pause. ‘Though maybe he’d be able to relaunch a career
in niche adult films.’

The simplicity of the plan pleases me. The stupidity of people pleases me more. I watch Maggie pacing the loft. There’s something off. And then, as she turns back around to face me I
figure it out. It feels like I’ve just walked off a cliff and plunged straight down into ice water. How did it take me this long to figure it out? She asked me about Wise and
the other
guy
.