Free Wanted (FBI Heat Book 3) by Marissa Garner

needy. Her thick brown hair twisted into a pile of some sort on top of her head with wispy strands floating around her face. Her huge emerald eyes wide with surprise. Her full lips quivering with emotion. What emotion exactly, he didn’t know, but it’d been all he could do not to drag her into his arms and claim those kissable lips. The damn robe had driven him crazy with lust also. He didn’t need x-ray vision to know she was naked beneath it. Her long, bare, slender legs and dainty feet were just invitations to unwrap and enjoy the whole package. Damn, I wanted her. Like always.
    The truck’s tires squealed when he spun into the storage facility driveway. At the security gate, he entered the pass code for the unit he’d rented under a fake name and for which he always paid in cash.
    The elderly couple who ran the place had appreciated his suggestion and then his help to set up their wireless router so they could advertise the availability of a hotspot on the premises. More than two hundred renters received the network key. Dillon had told himself that he never planned to use it, but here he was in need of access to the Internet that would be difficult to trace back to him. Maybe he’d known all along that he’d eventually return to his hacking ways with Kat gone.
    After parking the truck, he strolled to his unit, instinctively aware of the three other people on the property. No one paid any attention to him, which was good. He let himself in and locked the door behind him—the inside lock, only one of his personal improvements to the unit.
    He threw his leather jacket on a pile of boxes and dropped onto a metal folding chair at the table. If it turned out he’d be spending significant time here, a more comfortable chair would be a necessity. But for tonight, his ass would just have to go numb.
    Once both laptops were fired up, his fingers flew over one keyboard and then the other. In no time, he delved into the dark web and signed onto the TSK site. He put the burner phone on speaker and called Chaos. “Hey, man, what’s the problem?”
    “This Diablo Beach shit is locked up tight as Fort Knox.”
    “We hacked Fort Knox.”
    “Oh, duh, you’re right. Then tighter than Fort Fucking Knox. It’s a damn devil. Get it?”
    “Yeah, I got it. But what? You lost your skills, Chaos?”
    “Nah, dude. You think I just been fartin’ around for the past four years? I got mad skills now, bro.”
    “Then I repeat, what’s the problem?”
    “Nothing’s workin’. And I mean nothin’.”
    “Fine. Let’s take a look together,” Dillon said.
    Before Chaos could respond, a message from someone named Digger popped up on the screen: Who the fuck are you?
    Dillon stared at the question in disbelief.
    “Don’t mind Digger. He’s only been around about a year,” Chaos said, obviously seeing the same message at his end.
    “The guy should show a little respect,” Dillon muttered. “You did vet him, right?”
    “Does a wild bear shit in the forest?”
    “Yeah, yeah.” Dillon’s fingers danced across the keys: I’m the S in TSK, dickhead.
    Digger: I thought S stood for “shit.”
    He sneered and wrote: You don’t even know the name of the dark web hacker group you belong to?
    No response.
    Chaos sighed. “Finish him, man, so we can get to work.”
    Dillon typed: FYI, prick, TSK stands for The Shadow Knows. And I’m the goddamn Shadow.
    Digger’s message popped up: FUCK!!!!! You’re a legend, man!!!!!
    “Better,” Dillon murmured and responded: Remember that. Now get lost.
    Yes, sir , Digger posted and then all his messages disappeared.
    “You better be taking me someplace more private,” Dillon said.
    “Of course, Boss,” Chaos said, chuckling.
    Dillon followed him through five consecutive foreign servers that his hacker buddy used to reach the Diablo Beach computer system, making it harder for anyone to retrace their tracks. “Niiice.”
    “They got some badass firewalls, encryption, and security