Read Online Remember Me by Romily Bernard - Free Book Online

here?”
    â€œMaybe.” The guy moves toward us. This close, his eyes are an ashy gray like whatever’s inside him is burning its way to the surface.
    Homeless. Maybe high. He doesn’t look well. His skin is the color of overcreamed coffee and his clothes are stained and rumpled. The stench is enough to make my eyes water.
    â€œWho are you?” He’s talking to me now and it makes Griff stiffen.
    â€œWick,” I say.
    He mouths my name, twitches, and Griff’s breath stalls. I curve my hand around his forearm. It’s okay. It’s okay.
    Then suddenly it’s not.
    The guy lunges at me and I duck, stumbling back and lashing out with my fist. I connect with his throat. He coughs hard and goes to his knees.
    â€œHey!” Another voice—a guy’s—comes from my left. I jerk sideways and the newcomer lunges forward, ripping past me to crouch by the guy. He nearly gets flattened for his efforts though. The man leaps up and takes off.
    Leaving the new guy to round on me. He surges forward, shoving me into the restaurant’s wall. “Who the hell are you?”
    â€œWick Tate.” I start to knee him in the groin and he twists sideways, swearing. “Who the hell are you ?”
    â€œMilo Gray.” His hands loosen and he moves back a step. “World’s greatest builder.”
    Â 
    â€œWho was that?” Griff asks. Outside the restaurant, the storm has regrouped and rain bleeds down the dusty windows in veins.
    Milo studies Griff. “No one that concerns you.”
    â€œThat’s because it was your dad, wasn’t it?” Both boys pivot to stare at me and I pretend to straighten my shirtsleeve so I can cradle my throbbing arm. “Attached earlobes. It runs in families, right? So maybe he’s your dad or really older brother?”
    â€œDad.” Now Milo’s studying me . His eyes linger and I shiver. Griff’s guy doesn’t look like a techie . . . he looks like some sort of surfer boy: dark hair, dark eyes, worn black T-shirt stretched across a gym-sculpted chest, and tribal tats curling up his forearms.
    â€œYou didn’t tell me she was going to be in danger if I brought her here,” Griff says.
    â€œAnd you didn’t tell me who she really was. You said you were bringing me Red Queen, not . . .” Milo’s attention never swerves from me. Slowly, the side of his mouth quirks up. “So what should I call you? Wick? Or Red Queen?”
    I try to smile. Can’t. My face has gone tight. Red Queen is one of the aliases I use online and, generally, my best known. “Wick’s fine.”
    â€œYou got it . . . but how do I know you’re the Red Queen? How do I know you’re the one who came up with the Pandora code?”
    â€œWell, if I could just borrow a computer . . .”
    â€œNo way you’re touching my gear.” Milo’s tongue taps the corner of his mouth. “Tell me about how you nailed Walker Internet Securities.”
    I flinch. It was probably some of the best work I ever did for Joe. I meet Milo’s gaze and refuse to think about what Griff must be thinking . . . or about the shame heating my face. “So their CEO was way paranoid; getting into the company’s systems was impossible. They’d thought of everything . . . except for their cable boxes. They were running this old version of BSD, which meant I had my pick of vulnerabilities. After a few directory traversal attacks, I was able to access every internet and wireless device in the office.” I force myself to breathe. “By using an XSS vulnerability in the HTML firewall log I was able to install a malicious JavaScript packet that would look for various password and configuration files and, if found, send them back to me. When the CEO viewed the firewall log the next morning, the XSS had launched, and we ended up with the