The Redemption (17 page)

But I don’t reply. Screw him. He can’t yell at me like he did and then expect me to act like everything’s fine. Even before the valet guy opens my car door, I burst out of the car and march into our hotel, not looking back. Jonas is angry with me? Well, the more I think about it, I’m steaming mad at him, too.

Cold air from the air conditioning blasts me as I stride through the lobby toward the elevator bank, but it does nothing to cool my hot temper. He’s overreacting, plain and simple. A little anger would have been okay. But a volcano erupting and spewing molten lava at me? Not okay. What he should have done was congratulate me and tell me I’m so fucking smart—that’s what he
should
have said. That man needs to take a chill pill and celebrate our victory, no matter how we got it. Yeah, in fact, as far I’m concerned, Jonas can go to hell.

Sarah
 

Everyone (besides Jonas) is hanging on my every word. Now
this
is the kind of reaction I’d hoped to elicit from Mr. Volcano. Jeez. When I get to the part about me taking a naked selfie in the bathroom, Kat shrieks, either with shock or glee, I’m not sure which. And when I regale the group with the part about Oksana and Max opening my email right on the spot, Josh whoops and high-fives me while Henn fist pumps the air and scrambles to his laptop to track the progress of his little malware-baby.

But Jonas? He sits in the corner, scowling, watching all of us but not saying a word. I feel like flipping Jonas the bird, to be honest, but I refrain because I’m a fancy lady.

“Bingo,” Henn says after a brief moment of looking at his screen. “You did it. We’re in. I’ve got Oksana’s computer and that guy’s phone. Holy shit, Sarah. Jackpot.”

I look smugly at Jonas, but he looks away. Really, Jonas? You’re pissed at me? Well, I’m pissed at you.

“Oh my God,” Henn says, staring intently at his computer screen. “The bastard forwarded your email to another computer and opened your photo there, too.” He chuckles. “Brilliant.” He clicks a button on his keyboard and his entire face suddenly bursts into bright red flames.

Oh jeez. Why do I get the distinct feeling Henn just saw my boobs? I blush. “So, Henn?”

His head jerks up from his computer screen like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Yes?”

“So now what?”

He swallows hard. “Well, um.” His cheeks are still on fire. “I’ll snoop around both computers and this Max guy’s phone and see what I can find. And then we wait for them to hopefully access their mainframe and bank accounts. I imagine we won’t have to wait too long.”

“Can you delete that photo?” Jonas asks, his voice tight. “Can you find it and erase it everywhere?”

“Um, sure, no problem,” Henn says quickly. “I can delete it right now, if you want me to. I’ve got total access.”

“Yeah, but if you delete that photo off their computers now, won’t that tip them off?” Kat asks.

“Yeah,” Henn says. “If that photo magically disappears, this Max dude is gonna know something’s up for sure—and if he designed their tech like he says, then he’s a badass motherfucker of epic proportions and we don’t want to do anything to tip him off.”

“Well, then, don’t delete it. I don’t want to give them any reason whatsoever to be suspicious,” I say.

“I agree,” Henn says.

Jonas exhales and crosses his arms over his chest.

“God, Sarah,” Kat laughs. “First the solo-boob shot and now this. You’re quite the exhibitionist, aren’t you?”

Oh jeez. Thanks, Kat. I steal a quick look at Jonas, just in time to see him clench his jaw. Yes, Jonas, I told my best friend about the left-boob picture I sent you when I was nothing but your anonymous intake agent.
So sue me.
 

Kat sees the look on Jonas’ face and she winces. “Sorry,” she mouths to me.

I shrug and shoot her a “he can go fuck himself” look.

“A ‘boob picture’?” Josh asks, raising his eyebrows. “Oh my goodness, tell us more, Sarah Cruz.”

“Just a little sexting with this really hot guy I met online,” I say, glancing at Jonas—only to find he’s still pissed as hell. I roll my eyes. “A hot guy who
used
to have a sense of humor. It’s no big deal—all the kids are doing it these days.”

“And all the politicians,” Josh says.

“And athletes,” Henn says.

“And housewives,” Kat adds.

“And grandmas,” Josh says.

“And some priests, too,” Henn says, and everyone (except Jonas) laughs.

“Sarah, you picked the perfect bait for your email,” Kat says. “No matter how smart or powerful or rich a guy might be, he’s got the same Kryptonite as every other man throughout history. Naked boobs.”

“Are we really that simple?” Josh asks.

“Yes,” Kat says. “You really are.”

 “Never underestimate the power of porn,” Henn says.

“That’s catchy,” Kat says. “The porn industry should adopt that for a billboard campaign.”

“I don’t think the porn industry needs help with their marketing,” Henn says.

Jonas hasn’t stopped smoldering during this entire exchange. A vein in his neck—which I can now confidently identify as his external jugular vein—is throbbing.

“That was really quick thinking on your feet, Sarah,” Josh says, but he’s looking at his brother as he speaks. “You went in there hoping to harpoon a baby-whale, and you wound up landing Moby Dick. Great job.” He raises his eyebrows at Jonas. “Right, bro? Aren’t you proud of her?”

Jonas scowls at his brother.

“I was scared; I’m not gonna lie,” I say. “My hands were shaking like crazy the whole time I was in there. But there was no way I was gonna leave that building without implanting that virus, no matter what. There was too much at stake.”

“You’re such a badass, Sarah,” Kat says.

Jonas exhales and uncrosses his arms. I wrinkle my nose at him. I’m a badass and he’s just going to have to deal with it. It’s all I can do not to stick my tongue out at him.

“Hey, guys,” Henn says, engrossed with something on his screen. “Holy shit. Oksana’s going into her bank account right now—that Henderson Bank we were scouting out before.” He stares at the screen for another ten seconds. “Sha-zam. She just typed in her password. Ha! I got it.” He shakes his head. “Oh, man, I love technology.”

“So what do we do?” I ask, my heart racing.

“We wait a few minutes for her to log off, and then we go in and snoop around.”

“Sounds like the perfect time for me to fill drink orders,” Josh says, heading to the bar.

Five minutes later, just as Josh is passing out the last of our drinks, Henn calls us over to his computer screen. “She’s logged off,” he announces. “Let’s go in.”

We all gather around Henn’s computer like we’re watching a Seahawks’ game.

“Well, she’s already deposited your checks—one hundred eighty thousand big ones,” Henn says. “I bet that boils your blood, huh, Jonas?”

Jonas grunts.

“And she just transferred half of it into her savings account. Hmm,” Henn says, sounding perplexed.

“What?” I ask. I’m practically breathless. This is all just too exciting to bear.

“Even after today’s deposit, Oksana’s got only about half a million total in these two accounts.” He furrows his brow.

“Hmm,” Josh says.

“Hmm, indeed,” Henn agrees. “Chump change. These must be Oksana’s personal accounts—definitely not The Club’s main accounts.”

“Damn,” I say. “So how do we find the big money?”

Jonas ambles to the other side of the room, away from the group, apparently returning to his corner to sulk again.

“We just have to wait for them to log into their main bank accounts. It could be five minutes, five hours, five days—who knows?—but I guarantee they’ll lead us there sooner or later. And in the meantime, I’ll take a nice, long gander around their files and data, make copies of everything, see if there’s anything of interest. Oh, and I’ll listen to Max’s voicemails, too. That’s so cool you got Max’s phone, Sarah.” He sips his beer. “Dang, there’s a lot to do.”

Josh sighs. “Well, it looks like poor Henn’s gonna be working through the night again, going through all this stuff.” He looks at Kat. “What do you say, Party Girl with a Hyphen—you wanna paint Sin City red with me again?”

“I’d actually like to help Henn, if that’s okay,” Kat says. “I’m kind of excited about all this.” She looks at me. “I have a strong motivation to want to bury these guys.”

I grin at her. There’s nothing like a best friend.

“Would that be okay with you, Henn?” Kat asks. “Or would I be in your way?”

“No, that’d be awesome. But only if you want to. I mean, Josh and Jonas are
paying
me to do this, so...” Henn sneaks a quick look at Josh, seemingly to make sure he’s not stepping on any toes by accepting Kat’s help.

But if Josh is disappointed about the unexpected agenda for the night, he doesn’t show it. “Could you use my help, too?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Henn says. “That’d be great.”

 “Okay, then. I’ll order us room service and the three of us will get to work.”

“Make that the four of us. I’ll stick around and help, too,” I say. “I’m pretty motivated to bury these guys, too.” I glare at Jonas. If he’s still pissed at me, that’s not my problem.

Jonas raises his beer to his perfect lips and takes a long, sexy swig. Okay, I’m still mad at him, I swear I am—but, damn, his lips are luscious when he sips from a bottle like that. It makes me wish I were the bottle.

“Nah,” Josh says. “You two kids should go out and celebrate.” He looks at Jonas suggestively. “Or stay in and celebrate, whatever floats your boat. Either way, definitely celebrate—you both kicked ass today.”

Jonas’ eyes flicker at me, but I look away. If Jonas thinks he can yell at me the way he did today and then ravage me like nothing happened, then he’s got another thing coming.

Josh grins at me. “The three of us will move our party down to my suite and let you two crazy kids swing on the chandeliers up here.”

Jonas takes another long, slow sip of his beer, his eyes holding mine. I jut my chin at him and then look away. If he can’t deal with the way today went down, I’m sorry, but that’s just too bad for him. I didn’t plan to desert him—I wanted Plan A to work out, but it didn’t. I had to follow my gut—had to make a split-second decision in order to accomplish the mission. Big risk, big reward—isn’t that what Jonas taught my contracts class?

Jonas drains the last drop of his beer, his eyes like lasers, and puts the bottle down. He crosses his arms over his muscled chest and stares at me. This time, I don’t look away. Neither does he. I guess we’re having a staring contest. Fine.

“What do you say, baby?” he finally says.

When he says the word
baby
, I feel my resolve instantly soften. Damn.

He licks his lips. Oh man, his eyes are a three-alarm fire. “You up for a little celebration tonight?”

I shrug.
No.
 

“I think we should celebrate.”

I shrug again.
No.
But I know I can’t hold out forever. I’m addicted to him, after all.

“Aw, come on, baby.” A side of his mouth tilts up, and just like that, heat flashes through my entire body. “You wanna have a little fun?”

“Maybe,” I say. But then I remember I’m pissed at him and I steel myself again. “And maybe not.” I purse my lips with indignation.

He purses his lips, too—but he’s mocking me. “What if I said please?”

I look at Kat. She knows I’m a goner.

I twist my mouth. “Then I’d say
possibly
. But not
probably
.”

“What if I said pretty please?” He flashes his full smile.

I smash my lips together, trying to resist him. Of course, I know my efforts are futile, but I’m giving it the ol’ college try. I shrug again.

“What if I said pretty please
and
that we can do whatever you want, anything at all, you name it?”

Now he’s got my attention. “Anything at all?”

“Anything at all.”

“You’ll be at my mercy completely?”

Jonas squints at me and bites his lip.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kat and Josh exchange a smile.

“Well? Will you be at my mercy or not?” I ask, tapping my toe. “What do you say?”

“Hmm.” Jonas walks slowly toward me, his muscles taut. “What do I say?” When he reaches me, he takes my face in his hands. “I say, ‘I’m an asshole.’”

Oh, those eyes. Those ridiculously beautiful eyes. “No, you’re not. You’re a cocky-bastard-asshole-motherfucker,” I say softly.

He kisses me gently. His lips are cold and taste like beer. He’s delicious.

“You did good today,” he says. He kisses me again, this time slipping his tongue into my mouth.

My sweet Jonas.
 

Gah. I can’t resist him. “I’m sorry I worried you,” I say. And I am. I’m not at all sorry I did what I did today—it was effective and I totally kicked ass. But I regret the way my actions tortured him. I’m sure today took years off his life. I kiss his luscious lips, taking great care to suck on his lower lip as I depart his mouth. “We do whatever I want tonight—and you get absolutely no say in the matter,” I whisper.

He looks wary for a moment, but I hold my ground. He leans into my ear. “No neckties,” he whispers softly.

I smile. “Of course not.”

“Then, okay, yes, you’re in charge. Whatever you want to do.”

“Okay, then,” I say. “Count me in.”

Jonas
 

Of all the things we could be doing right now, of all the places we could have gone tonight, my baby drove us to a seedy strip club on the outskirts of downtown. What the hell? We’re sitting in our rental car in the parking lot, staring at a flashing neon sign on the club’s roof—“The Amsterdam Club.” The place looks as seedy as hell—bargain-basement titty bar—definitely not one of the trendy hot spots on The Strip. This is where my baby wanted to come for her big night out? Jesus. I love my dirty, dirty girl, don’t get me wrong—she’s fucking hot as fuck and smart as hell and she turns me the fuck on, no matter what she does, even when she pisses me off like she did today—but, yeah, hot as she is, my dirty girl is also fucking crazy sometimes. There, I said it. She’s batshit crazy.