Then he saw King. The calm in the storm.

  King had stood there, beefy arms crossed over his wide chest like some ancient god carved out of a mountain. Despite being bigger than Leo, he wasn’t an extraordinarily large man. There were soldiers in the bunker who were bigger and wider, but something about King gave off an air of solidness. Leo had pegged him for a soldier right away even without a uniform. He was a very handsome man with stunning blue eyes. Tall, roughly six foot two or three, over two hundred pounds, blond with matching stubble on his chiseled jaw. He was all rippling muscles, dressed in black tactical pants, boots, and a black henley with the sleeves shoved up to his elbows, revealing corded forearms. The man had barely blinked as he’d stood observing his surroundings. Even when someone headed in his direction, looking like they might run into him, they had quickly swerved, as if they’d known he wasn’t about to budge. Like a human wall. Leo had been fascinated and a little bit awed. He’d thought, whoever the man was, he appeared immovable. Something about him set Leo at ease, which didn’t make sense considering they’d only just met.

  Now as they neared Leo’s workstation in the command center, Leo’s pulse sped up and his nerves kicked in. He took a seat in his chair, his frown deep.

  “What’s wrong?” King asked, clearly aware of the many curious gazes focused on them. Who couldn’t feel the stares burning into the back of their shirts? King lifted his head, and everyone’s eye darted to their monitors.

  “Nothing.” Leo glanced over his hunched shoulders at the rows of analysts before turning back to his station, his knee bouncing. How much longer could he do this? Every day his anxiety got worse.

  “Why don’t we turn your station around?”

  Leo’s head shot up, and he stared at King. “Move my station?”

  “Having people hovering over your shoulder, or feeling like they are, can’t be comfortable. Let’s turn your station around and see if that helps.”

  Leo dropped his gaze to his fingers, his cheeks burning. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “Your job is to focus on the project. Don’t worry about the rest.” King placed a hand on Leo’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m here to help, remember?” He caught the attention of a couple of soldiers and motioned them over. Together the three of them helped Leo turn his workstation around so he had the wall to his back and his desk provided a good shield from prying eyes. “Thanks, fellas.”

  The soldiers nodded and left. What was it like to command that kind of power? To simply say something and have people not just listen but do as asked? When King turned back to Leo, his smile amused, Leo realized he’d been gawking. Shit! He swiveled his chair so fast he ended up spinning awkwardly, the chair slowly coming to a stop as it reached King so they were facing each other again. Oh my God, seriously? Could he be any more awkward? Movement from the corner of his eye had Leo turning, and he’d barely managed to suppress a groan when Bowers approached. The guy was clearly still pissed, and he didn’t even pretend he wasn’t ignoring Leo.

  “I apologize for my outburst earlier,” Bowers said, shaking his head. “That kid’s going to give me an ulcer.”

  Um, hello? Was he a mirage? Leo was right here. Unbelievable. Story of my freaking life.

  King’s scowl was epic, and Leo took a tiny bit of pleasure in the fact that Bowers cowered enough to take a small step back. Who was he kidding? Leo took great pleasure in knowing Bowers was intimidated by King.

  Bowers handed King an armored case with what looked like a biometric lock. He pointed to the lock. “Fingerprint and the access code on your ID. Inside you’ll find the tablet we discussed. The information is encrypted, and the encryption keys auto-generate every hour. The tablet can only be accessed by you via retina scan and handprint scan. If anyone who isn’t you tries to access it, the information will corrupt itself. You’ll also find a SIG Sauer M18 in there, along with extra ammunition.”

  King arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re issuing me a sidearm?”

  “Considering your military history, current career, and the General’s glowing reference of your character, there was a likely chance you might pick up a weapon during this operation. We’d rather it was one of ours and not one of your own.”

  In other words, if things went south, it would be easier for them to sweep King’s involvement under the rug. Did they think King was stupid? The guy had been Special Forces. Leo snorted, earning himself a daggered look from Bowers and a lip twitch from King. At least Bowers was no longer ignoring him.

  “Any questions just call me. Your bags were cleared and delivered. They’re in the barrack next door to the asset’s.”

  The asset. So personable, these spooks.

  King nodded. “Thanks.” They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Bowers wished him luck and headed off. King turned to Leo, who couldn’t stop his knee from bouncing again. He laced his fingers between his knees and stared at the screen before him. The black screen. The black, empty screen. The black, empty screen projecting what the inside of his coffin would look like if he didn’t get this damned program done. Wow. That went to a dark place quickly. Maybe it was time for some more tea.

  “Everything okay?”

  Leo bit down on his bottom lip and nodded. “Mm-hm.” How about we not reveal what a complete and total freak we are to the hot soldier guy? Not hot. Obviously hot, but Leo shouldn’t be thinking hot. Ones and zeroes. That’s what he should be thinking. Ones and zeroes and sixes, or was that eights? Six-pack or eight-pack?

  “Leo?”

  “Eight.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  Leo’s jaw went slack. Holy shit, he’d said that out loud! He promptly shut his mouth, eyes wide. Something banged somewhere, and he flinched. Lifting his gaze, King scanned the room, his expression turning pensive, like he was trying to figure something out. For Leo, it was easy. Noise. It filled the room. Clicking of keyboards, talking, whirring of equipment, and movement. The hostility that rolled off some of the analysts like little clouds of doom didn’t help either.

  “I’ll be right back,” King said before he headed toward the analysts.

  Leo followed King’s movement as he walked down the rows of workstations until he seemed to find what he was looking for. With a warm smile at Heather, one of the first analysts to be recruited, he pointed to a pair of heavy-duty noise-canceling headphones. He said something that had her blinking up at him, and he checked her ID before his next words were followed by him putting his hand to his chest. She raked her gaze over every inch of him—way to be subtle, Heather—and her cheeks went pink before she lifted her wide eyes to his. Leo wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it, but she visibly sighed. Like a dreamy sigh, not the frustrated “why do you have to breathe the same oxygen as me” sigh she’d given Leo that morning when he’d asked to borrow a highlighter.

  Heather nodded, and King took the pair of large headphones from her desk, then returned to Leo, Heather’s gaze never leaving him, or rather his ass. Leo narrowed his eyes at her, and when she realized she’d been busted, she started typing away at her keyboard like she was Sandra Bullock in Speed and her desk would blow up if she typed under fifty words per minute.

  “Does anyone actually ever say no to you?” Leo asked.

  King chuckled and handed him the headphones. “You’d be surprised. My family certainly has no problem giving me a piece of their minds. Noise-canceling headphones. Why don’t you use these for now and let me know which brand you prefer, and I’ll be sure to get a pair brought to you right away.”

  “How did you know?”

  “One of my brothers-in-arms, Jack, handles cybersecurity for Four Kings Security, and when he’s working on an important project, he puts on headphones to block out any noise that messes with his concentration. Usually it’s when our other brother, Ace, is in the same building.”

  Leo couldn’t help his smile. “King, Jack, Ace? I’m sensing a pattern here.”

  “Nicknames given to us during our time in the service. Lucky, Red, and Ace co-own Four Kings Security with me. Jack and Joker head their own departments in the company.”

  Leo’s expression fell. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Leo’s dad had worked closely with Special Forces units years ago. From the little King had said, and how the brightness in his eyes dimmed when he spoke about his time in the service, it was obvious King had lost brothers-in-arms, especially as he’d yet to mention the remaining six men Leo knew would have made up the other half of King’s unit. He quickly wiped the wetness from his eyes. “Sorry. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for you and your brothers.” A tear escaped, and King shifted, as if he’d been about to move closer but refrained. Leo wiped at his face and let out a breath. “Geez, I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot, getting all emotional. Like you don’t think I’m enough of a freak.”

  King crouched down in front of Leo and gently placed a hand on his knee. “That’s a bit unfair, don’t you think?”

  Leo blinked at him, wondering what he’d said wrong. “What is?”

  “You presuming to know what I’m thinking.”

  “Sorry.” Leo turned his face away, embarrassed. It was a bad habit born from years of unpleasant experiences with people who’d been quick to judge his peculiarities.

  “No more apologizing. I don’t think you’re a freak, Leo. I think you’re a very gifted young man with a big soft heart. Thank you for your kind words.”

  Leo nodded. King was a nice guy, and he’d been sent to help Leo get the job done, which meant putting up with Leo’s weirdness and acting like it was no big deal. It was still nice to hear, though, so he smiled softly at King in appreciation.

  As if shaking himself out of his thoughts, King stood. “Why don’t you get to work. I’m going to catch up on a few things and check on my bags. I’ll be right back. If you need me, I’ll be in the room right next to yours.”

  After turning back to face his station, Leo logged into his interface and put on the headphones. They weren’t the same as his, but still a very good pair. On the monitor to his right, data coming in from the analysts scrolled through several windows, highlighting names, IP addresses, keywords, and every piece of information that existed linked to those individuals, all from foreign territories.

  How had he gone from being a freelance software engineer working from home to working on a government project from a black site? He closed his eyes, inviting the silence to swallow him up in the hopes of starting his process. Were this any of the projects he worked on at home, he would have just put on some music and gotten down to it, no sweat, but for this? He needed to completely lose himself. To open up hundreds of tabs in his mind’s browser as he worked through the limitless algorithms until he discovered the ones that would work.

  This project was huge, consisting of several moving pieces with a revolving door of code that expired from one heartbeat to the next, and if he wasn’t quick enough locking in that piece of code, he’d have to start again. And again. And again. It was akin to conducting a symphony. Each instrument on its own provided its own unique sound, a beautiful but incomplete piece. It was his job to bring them all together to create one harmonious work of art.

  A shake to his shoulder jolted him, and he jumped from his chair, removing the headphones to hear Harold snarling at him.

  “Why can’t you do your damn job?”

  Had the guy not noticed that’s exactly what he’d been trying to do before he decided to be a dick? Leo dropped the headphones onto the desk and started to pace, tapping his fingers against his legs. Why did they always have to get angry and shout? If it was as easy as they believed it was, wouldn’t he be doing it? Wouldn’t they have gotten anyone? Given the choice, of course he’d love to dive right into it, but his brain didn’t work that way. It never had.

  When he was five, he and a group of other children had been presented with a piece of fruit, and when asked what they saw, the other kids said “an orange.” Leo didn’t say “orange” because when he looked at the sliced fruit, what he saw was rind, pulp, zest, juice vesicles, seeds—everything that made up an orange. They had asked him what he saw, not what the fruit was called. The rest of the children had looked at him like something was wrong with him. A recurring theme throughout his life.

  As a little boy, he’d pray to God like his mom had taught him and asked to be like all the other children. His prayers were never answered, though he imagined part of it had to do with the fact that even at such a young age, he struggled to come to terms with a big man in the sky looking down on him. Quite frankly, it had scared the heck out of him, and he’d burst into tears until his mother reassured him that God was more about faith than a giant strange man watching his every move.

  Faith had been a foreign concept, one he’d tried so hard to dissect and make sense of. He’d told his mother as much when he turned seven, and he never forgot her response. She kissed his cheek, hugged him close, and told him not to look with his mind but with his heart. Leo missed her so damned much. She’d been the only one who understood him, who knew what to do and what to say when he became frustrated with the world around him. No one had defended or protected him as fiercely. His father and sister were incredible and far more patient than anyone should be, but they’d always looked at him like he was something precious in need of protecting, and that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but they never really understood him.

  “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

  “No, you’re shouting,” Leo muttered as he paced. “There is a distinct difference between talking and shouting. The volume level alone should give you an indication that you’re—”

  “Christ, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  A lot. There was a lot wrong with him according to most people. Why couldn’t he sit down and get to it like everyone else? They were all very smart individuals. The fact they were here said as much. The problem was, he was smarter, vastly smarter. That wasn’t a slight to them, but it made things difficult for him, always did, because he didn’t know how to communicate with them. He’d tried to tell Bowers when he’d been recruited—more like drafted—but Bowers had assured him everything would be fine. How could it be fine? Nothing was fine. Everyone was staring at him, glaring at him, whispering to one another, and then there was Harold, shouting at him, cursing him, calling him names.

  “Are you fucking listening to me?” Harold grabbed his shoulder, and Leo jerked away from him.

  “Don’t touch me! I don’t like strangers touching me.”

  “You’re a freak, de Loughrey. I don’t give a shit who your daddy is. Man up and get this shit done.”

  Man up? What the hell did that even mean? Was he supposed to beat at his chest and piss on his workstation to mark it as his territory? That because he was a man it translated automatically to bravery and toughness? Could a woman man up? Was that supposed to help him, encourage him? He didn’t get it.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  Leo released a shaky breath at the familiar booming voice. It washed over him, easing some of his tension. It was okay. Everything would be okay. He didn’t know why he felt that, but he did.

  King put himself between Leo and Harold, his steely blue eyes narrowed at Harold. “Is there a problem here?”

  “Yeah, he’s the problem,” Harold spat, trying to get around King whose expression Leo couldn’t see but which stopped Harold in his tracks. Harold’s face went ashen, and he took a quick step back.

  “Why don’t you go back to your station.”

  It wasn’t a suggestion.

  Harold hesitated before briskly walking off, his intense glare trying to set Leo on fire. King turned to Leo, his expression softening as he stepped closer. Leo didn’t move away like he would have for everyone else. Instead he found himself moving closer to King’s warmth, to the calm he gave off.

  “Talk to me, Leo,” King said quietly. “What’s going on?”

  Shit. King was going to think he was so stupid. A diva, or worse, he’d think what everyone else did. The thought of King looking at him like the others had Leo pacing again. God, he hated this. Hated that he’d let himself get trapped. He should have known better. His father had taught him better. Now he was stuck here, trying to find a way out without alerting them. His life hadn’t been perfect, but it had been his. Did they think he was stupid? That he would buy the bullshit they were trying to feed him? There was no computer he couldn’t get into, no part of the dark web he hadn’t seen. The world was a terrifying place, and he was an insignificant spec in the grand scheme of things.

  The government wanted him to believe he was doing good, but the reality was they would take what he built and mutate it into something monstrous, unless he found a way to ensure they didn’t, but the thought scared him. There was no such thing as safe in this world anymore. He was never safe, and with his father sent God knew where, and his sister halfway across the world, Leo was utterly alone.

  They’d isolated him.

  “Oh God, I can’t,” Leo whispered, wringing his hands. It was getting harder to breathe. He was going to have a panic attack. They’d taken the first steps. They were going to throw him in a hole where no one would ever find him, take him from his father and his sister, force him to do horrible things, and if he refused, they would—