Love and Wargames: A Bad Boy Hacker Romance Read online

  “No.” The urgency in his tone shoots up my spine. “Caleb, I know about your situation here. I want to help you.”

  I grit my teeth, breathing deep to calm the anger brewing inside. “I don’t need anyone’s help—”

  “You don’t have to act strong, Caleb,” he says. “Not for me.”

  “Don’t you dare go there, Boxcar. Drop this. Now.”

  “You know, I did as Fox asked me to. You let him borrow some supplies and in return I looked into your debts and honestly — I really didn’t like what I saw.”

  I step back again as the weight of years of mistakes fall on me. “Box…”

  “What happened after I left, Caleb?”

  “Life happened!” I shout. “Real life. Most of us don’t have the luxury of knowing how to steal from rich guys’ offshore bank accounts. In the real world, people like me have to actually work for what we have.”

  “I’m not going to apologize for taking advantage of a broken system. And don’t turn this around. All I want to do to is help you.”

  “I never asked for your help!”

  “And you never have to,” he says, his voice growing softer. “That’s the whole point. You and me — we were supposed to be a team but you couldn’t handle that. You couldn’t handle the idea of relying on anybody — especially not a man and especially not one like me.”

  I pause as his words strike me cold. “Box, what—”

  “I knew exactly what I was getting into with you, Caleb. Fox—” he pauses, chuckling softly. “He even tried to talk me out of it. He told me I didn’t have it in me to keep up with you and I knew he was right but I wanted you anyway. You were stronger than me, faster than me, better than me, in every way imaginable but that just made me want you more. I thought undying devotion would be enough to make you want me back but turns out, you couldn’t see past the coward standing behind you.”

  I take a breath but it catches in my throat. “You think I thought you were a coward?”

  “I think you had every reason to,” he says, gesturing at me. “I mean, look at you. You’re perfect and badass and brave but I’m not. Be honest, Caleb — if Fox wasn’t so hung up on Dani, would you have ended up with him or me?”

  My jaw drops. “Is that what you really think?”

  “Am I wrong?”

  “Completely,” I say. “Fox died, Boxcar.”

  “So, you settled for me?”

  “That’s not what I mean and you know it.” My ankles twitch, pulling me closer to him. “Fox meant a lot to me but I never once looked at him the way I looked at you. Men like that — the soldiers and the fighters — they don’t stick around for very long. You can’t depend on them to be always be there because each one of them has a bullet chasing them down and it hits them eventually.”

  He blinks with confusion. “We’re not out in the desert anymore, Cal…”

  “That doesn’t matter,” I say. “Even today, Fox is still running from it. Ask Dani if you don’t believe me. Ask her if she ever wakes up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat wondering if today’s the day she’ll never see him again. You don’t want to live like that, Boxcar.”

  “Is that why you pushed me away?” he asks. “Because somewhere out there there’s a magic bullet with your name on it?”

  “Can you really blame me? You were there. You saw it,” I whisper. My eyes burn but I fight the tears begging to spill over. “We lost… everything. We lost Fox — or, at least, we thought we did. I didn’t want to put you through losing me, too.”

  “That wasn’t your call to make, Caleb.”

  “Yes, it was.” My voice breaks but I hold it together. “Part of me was really pissed off when Fox showed up alive but I understood why he did what he did. Soldiers don’t get to be selfish and put others in the crosshairs meant for us. And — again — if you don’t believe me, ask Dani. She has a few scars that more than prove my point.”

  Boxcar shakes his head. “You keep saying that, but… we’re not Fox and Dani, Caleb. It’s an unfair comparison and if you really believed what you’re saying then why did you marry me in the first place?”

  “Because you made it so easy to get lost in you,” I say. Instinct drives my words, bending my tongue too fast for me to stop it. “It was so easy to block out the world... even if it was only for a moment. I clung to you because you were different. I didn’t care that you were weaker than me or slower than me, because you were smarter. You saw more of me than anyone else did. You’re no coward, Boxcar. You’re the bravest man I’ve ever known and I couldn’t handle that because it meant that someday, you’d try to take that bullet for me.”

  “Of course, I would,” he whispers. “You’re my fucking wife.”

  Boxcar steps towards me, closing the gap between us with two long strides and I don’t fight it when his lips crush against mine. I lean into his embrace, falling deeper into his arms as he wraps them around me.

  Chapter 8

  Boxcar

  Afghanistan

  Two Years Ago

  “So, what’s the deal with you and Caleb?”

  Fox pauses, barely glancing at me over the top of his tray. His expression changes, just enough to hint that he knows exactly what I’m asking about but teasing me would be way more fun for him. “Why, Boxcar, whatever do you mean?”

  I close my laptop, bored of staring at the same blank satellite feed as always. “Oh, come on. You know damn well what I mean...”

  He shakes his smiling head. “It’s never gonna happen, man.”

  “With you two, or—?”

  “With either of us.”

  I lean forward. “So, you’ve tried…?”

  He wipes his mouth and sits back in his chair. “No.”

  I furrow my brow. “Why not?”

  “Lack of interest.”

  “Bullshit. I’ve been here for weeks and the only guy she even talks to is you, dude.”

  “That’s not true. She talks to you all the time.”

  “Shut up and keep your head down doesn’t count as playful, sexy banter, Fox.”

  “Depends on the context,” he grins.

  “Touche…” I sigh. “How am I supposed to get to know her if she won’t talk to me?”

  “She likes movies. Try that.”

  “Movies?” I pause. “What kind of movies?”

  “Classic ones. The older, the better. She told me once that she’s got a pretty epic collection back home.”

  I nod slowly. “I can work with that…”

  “She talks to the sergeant,” he points out.

  A stab of jealousy teases my chest. “That son-of-a-bitch…”

  Fox laughs. “Caleb’s not shacking up with Rhys, man. She’s not into anybody here, myself included. She’s a professional.”

  “But she’s also a woman with needs and… stuff…” I muse. “She’s never come on to you?”

  “No.”

  “Really?”

  “If she has, I haven’t noticed.”

  I pause, staring harder across the table at him. “How could you not notice?”

  “Because… as I said before, I’m not interested in her.”

  “You got a girlfriend back home?” I ask him, pulling my laptop open to check the satellite feed again. Still nothing within twenty miles of our camp.

  “Not exactly,” he answers.

  “Then what’s up? What’s wrong with Caleb?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with Caleb. She’s great, but…” His head shakes again.

  “But…?” I gesture with my fingers to lure more words out of him. “But she’s… what? A werewolf? A replicant? What?”

  “She’s great…” Fox repeats, still grinning, “but I’m really hung up on another girl back home in Los Angeles.”

  My brow twitches. “Why haven’t I heard about her before?”

  “Because I don’t talk about her much.”

  “Why not?”

  A shadow slides over his shoulder, instantly drawing
my eyes away from him. “Don’t talk about who?”

  Her voice whistles through my ears, sending a jolt of warmth throughout my entire body. Caleb stands at the head of the table, staring down at the two of us with loose arms dangling at her sides. Her t-shirt is tight and tucked into her belt, creating the most perfect curve from her belly to her impressive breasts.

  I swallow. “Do you know about some girl in L.A.?”

  Caleb smirks. “Ohhh, is he talking about Roxie again?”

  “Roxie?” I repeat, shooting a look across the table at Fox. “Sounds made up.”

  “Because it’s not her real name,” Fox says, glaring up at Caleb’s amused face. “It’s her stage name. Her real name is Dani.”

  “Hold on.” I close my laptop again. “I can think of only one girl named Roxie and it ain’t the blonde from Chicago.”

  “I love that movie,” Caleb says.

  I pause, once again completely magnetized by the sound of her voice, and thoroughly enthralled that she took the bait. “Me, too…”

  “You like musicals?” she scoffs.

  “I like corsets and dangerous women — anyway—” I shift my focus back to Fox. “I can think of only one girl named Roxie and she’s…”

  “Exactly who you think,” Caleb says, her perfect mouth curling even more.

  I stare at Fox, waiting for him to refute it but he stays silent. My jaw drops. “You know Roxie Roberts?”

  Caleb crosses her arms. “Oh, he knows her all right.”

  Fox takes a quick breath. “She’s my stepsister.”

  “No way!” Excitement builds in my chest — even more when I realize that Caleb has taken the seat beside me. I clear my throat, coming back down as I put Fox’s tale together. “Wait— you’re in love with your stepsister? No wonder you’re all tortured and shit.”

  “I am not tortured,” he argues, laughing it off.

  “You are a little,” Caleb says.

  “Does she know?” I ask.

  He nods. “She did when I left home.”

  I shake my head. “With all due respect, man — why would you sign up for this when you could be in Hollywood banging a girl like Roxie freakin’ Roberts?”

  Caleb chuckles beside me and for the first time, I feel the warm satisfaction of making her laugh. It jars me so much, I almost don’t even hear Fox’s answer.

  “Because I can’t touch her,” he says. “It’s a long story, but… I left and now she has everything. If I’d stayed… that wouldn’t be the case.”

  I nod along with his words, feeling a dull ache for him. I know a little something about not being able to have something — or someone — you want.

  “Rhys wants to know if you’ve found anything.”

  Caleb’s voice pulls me back and I open my laptop again to refresh the satellite feed. “Not quite—” I answer. “Just a bit of noise and…” I pause as a dark spot catches my eye. I zoom in to find three large trucks traveling in a straight line together. “A really suspicious-looking convoy heading north...”

  Caleb shifts out of her chair to linger over my shoulder. She heaves a sigh. “Yeah, Carson— just a bit of noise.”

  There’s anger in her tone, meaning any progress I might have made with making her laugh is officially worthless. “It wasn’t there a minute ago. They’re obviously using the edges of that sandstorm to stay out of sight and—”

  “How far out are they?” she spits.

  “About eighteen miles,” I say. “And by the way, your old crap could only see like twelve miles out. So, you’re welcome.”

  “Shut up and bring your laptop.” She walks off, bolting in a straight line towards the command tent across the camp.

  “Well…” I shrug. “It doesn’t quite have the same ring to it as shut up and keep your head down — but I guess I’ll take it.”

  Fox stands up. “One of these days, you just might get a shut up and kiss me out of her,” he jokes.

  “Dude, it is so not cool to toy with my emotions like that. I am a very sensitive man.”

  He laughs and we leave the tent, following her bootprints through the sand. His hand slaps my shoulder. “Box… let it go. You can’t keep up with her. No one can.”

  The warning digs at me. I know it’s true. Caleb is Wonder Woman. Strong, independent. An Amazonian rockstar. I would have to be Superman to make the slightest dent in her but it would only slow her down for a moment.

  Fox is right. There’s no way a guy like me will ever get close to a girl like Caleb Fawn.

  But that won’t stop me from trying.

  ***

  The mysterious convoy settled at an abandoned warehouse about ten miles east of our camp. Sunset is just moments away, giving the sky a deep purple glow, meshing with the pale sand surrounding us.

  I keep quiet, watching intently as Fox peeks through his rifle’s scope from about a mile away. This fucking guy. If he weren’t so damn nice, I’d hate his guts. Cool as James Dean and as suave as mid-80s’ Patrick Swayze. Now wonder his mother named him Fox.

  “They don’t look hostile,” he mutters. “This is something else.”

  I squint through my glasses, seeing only the blurred lines and black dots on my laptop’s radar, along with a rather menacing cloud taking up half the screen. “Storm inching closer…” I note, scanning the distance.

  Fox grabs his radio. “Caleb — you in position?”

  Her voice comes through. “Yes.”

  “Can you see inside?”

  “Not from this distance. I’ll get closer.”

  “Whoa—” I say. “Should she really be getting closer to that?”

  “She’ll be fine, Boxcar,” Fox says. “This is what she does.” He clicks the radio. “I’ll cover you. See if you can find out what they’re doing.”

  “On it.”

  Fox rolls his shoulders, shaking out his tension. He pauses to glance over at me and he smiles. “She’ll be fine,” he repeats.

  “I know.” I inhale a deep, frustrated breath. He sees through it completely but there’s not much I can do about that. There’s not much I can do about anything right now, other than watch and I can barely even do that out here in the dark.

  “Here.” I look up from the radar and Fox hands me a pair of binoculars. “Night vision.”

  “Ooo…” I flick them on and bring them to my eyes, being careful not to scratch my glasses. The once black warehouse now glows with shades of green. Caleb catches my attention, slowly slinking onto the grounds from the west side dressed all in black. Her short hair is secured back out of the way but I can still see the harsh wind attempting to twist the locks free to fall against her cheeks. “Damn, she’s cool.”

  Fox chuckles and clicks his radio on. “Slow down, Caleb. You have movement around the corner.”

  I flinch, pulling my gaze away from her long enough to catch the very armed, very scary-looking, man headed right for her location around the building. “Shoot him—!” I gasp.

  “Calm down, Box…” Fox’s voice slides off his lips, smooth as butter.

  “But he’s—”

  “Box.”

  Caleb drifts backward and retreats into the shadows before the patrol makes it to her location. He continues on, completely unaware she’s even near him.

  I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Okay…”

  Fox turns away from his scope to pat me on the back. “See? Relax…” he says. “Panic only when necessary.”

  “How do I know when panic is necessary?”

  He shrugs. “Watch me. If I’m not panicking, then you shouldn’t be either.”

  “But you’re cool as fuck, dude. You never panic.”

  “I’ve panicked before.” His eyes flick in thought. “Once or twice.”

  “You can hold his hand later, Fox. Do you mind giving me an update on my path, please?”

  My chest sinks at the sound of her voice. Fuck…

  Fox focuses through his scope again. “You’re all clear, Cale
b.”

  “Thank you.”

  He clicks the radio off and offers me an apologetic nod. “Sorry.”

  I collapse against the sand.

  “All right. I can see inside.”

  I raise my head back up and look through the binoculars again, this time trying not to focus too much on Caleb alone. There’s a whole warehouse around her and not a single person inside will care if they had to put a bullet in her.

  “Any idea what they’re doing?” Fox asks her.

  “Not a clue,” she says. “I’ll take them out and look around, though.”

  I furiously shake my head at Fox.

  He nods. “Negative, Caleb. Come on back. We’ll report to Rhys and check it out again after the storm passes.”

  “I agree. I just wanted to freak Carson out a little bit. Did it work?”

  I sigh.

  “That’s an affirmative,” Fox answers, smiling.

  “Cool.”

  He lays his rifle down and pats me on the back again, giving me a weak, yet purposeful, smile. Let her go. You don’t stand a chance. Move on.

  I fight the overwhelming urge to smother myself in the sand.

  Chapter 9

  Caleb

  Afghanistan

  Two Years Ago

  I feel his eyes on me long before I look up. Carson — or Boxcar, whatever — sits on his cot across from mine with his laptop balanced on his outstretched legs. We make eye contact for the slightest of moments before his shaded eyes shift to the loud display of manliness happening a few feet away from the back of the barracks.

  I ignore the grunting and groaning and focus my attentions on putting my weapon back together.

  Rogers and West sit on the floor across from each other with Fox’s footlocker between them. Their hands are locked in a fierce arm wrestle while the ropey muscles of their arms quiver in a hard flex. Neither one of them seem any closing to winning than they were fifteen seconds ago.

  “Do they do this a lot?”

  “Carson—!” I jolt to my left to find him knelt down on the floor beside my cot. “What are you doing?”

  “Starting a conversation with you.”

  “Why?”