Page 94 of The Nanny Game Plan
God, I hope so.
I stop at the window, peeking out at the street below. The curtains are the color of mustard and smell like old smoke—which I guess is better than old B.O., but still not something I want to stick my face in—but I’m too afraid to pull them back. Plato has a new, fresh laptop that’s never been counter-hacked, both of our real phones are off, and to our knowledge, no one followed us here.
There’s probably no way Dex or Gio, his partner, or any of the crooked cops know that we’re spying on the UFC gym from across the street, but still…
Ever since Plato’s screen lit up, his QuickTime player showcasing a video taken of us from his laptop camera, along with a warning to get out of the gym’s system and await further instructions if we want to “keep breathing,” I’ve been paranoid as hell.
If only I’d been this paranoid sooner.
If only I’d realized how dangerous the man who hit my car last October really was. If I had, maybe I would have given up on my quest for justice before it was too late.
I don’t need justice. I just need Dean and the girls to be okay. I need to know no one is going to harm a hair on their precious heads because I was too stupid to realize I was punching way above my weight class.
“Stop staring out the window, it’s not good for your mental health,” Plato says from the desk without lifting his eyes from his laptop screen. “Neither is beating yourself up.”
“I’m not beating myself up,” I lie.
“Yes, you are. Your shoulders creep up when you’re beating yourself up. Right now, they’re up around your ears.”
Realizing he’s right, I force my shoulders to drop and my jaw to unclench as I let the curtain fall back into place. “I’m just ready for it to be ten, and for all this to be over.”
“You and me both,” he says. “But I’m glad we have a little more time. I want to go over everything again with you. Just to be sure you’ve got it on lock.” He rolls his neck, vertebrae cracking loud enough to make me wince. His eyes are red from working on his “dead man’s switch” all night and well into this morning, but he’s positive it’s ready. I hope it is. Ready or not, I have to walk out that door at nine forty-five. “Come look at this.”
I move to stand beside his chair, gazing down at what looks like a PowerPoint presentation. “You made a slideshow about our fuck up?”
“I made a slideshow, so all the details ofmyfuck up are crystal clear,” he corrects, clicking the first slide. “This tracks things all the way from when I realized Dex was our man, to my first fact-gathering hack, to the canary I hit on my third time in their system that landed both our asses in boiling water.”
I rest a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I never should have asked you to help me. I’m the asshole idiot here.”
“No, you’re not,” he says. “You’re a person who deserved justice. Instead, everyone failed you. Including me.” Before I can argue with him again, he hurries on, “But we don’t have time to beat that dead horse. I want to be sure you understand everything, just in case. So, what happened is these dicks set up a honeypot folder. They made it look like regular data, just like the membership invoices I copied before, but when I mirrored it, I tripped a silent alarm. There was a canary token embedded in the file that phoned home the second I opened it.”
He stops, swallowing hard as he drags a hand through his unusually messy hair, “Then, they used my open connection to run a reverse shell back into my laptop. That’s how they recorded us and sent the video. And their threats, demands, etc. Does that all make sense? Do you think you could describe that sequence to someone clearly enough that they could understand? I sent a link to the slideshow to your email. But if you’re not able to access that for some reason, I want you to be prepared, just in case you have to roll the dice on going to the authorities.”
I sigh, my stomach knotting. “Yes, I understand. At least the basics. But half the police force is working with Dex. We know that for sure now. That’s why we’re giving them what they want and not going to the police right now, right? Am I missing something?”
He sighs again. “No, you’re right. And hopefully everything will be fine. But if for some reason I disappear, and you can’t reach my dad… If you’re on your own and don’t know where else to go for help, you might have to risk it. But you have the list of all the cops in Dex’s special ‘membership’ program. Just make sure you go straight to the FBI and?—”
“Cross my fingers? Hope they actually listen to me and don’t think I’m a crazy person?” I cut in. “Yeah. I don’t love that plan, Plato. These guys said they’d back off if we give them everything, so hopefully they will. Especially once they know about the dead man’s switch. It’s ready, right?”
Plato nods for a long time.
A little too long, but when he speaks again, his voice is steadier, “It is. Yes. If anything happens to either of us, the switch should fire automatically. All the files on the full Singapore V-9 drug Pipeline, the invoice chain, the bribe ledger for the NOPD, it all goes to the FBI field office, the US Attorney in Baton Rouge, theTimes-Picayune, and four national outlets.” He turns to catch my gaze over his shoulder. “But if it fires for me, you’ll be the only one left who knows how I got the info. You’ll be in deep shit, Clover. Like, seriously deep. Like dye your hair, change your name, and disappear until all the bad guys are behind bars, levels of deep.”
“Yes, yes, understood. Be right back, gotta pee.” I nod, pretending I get it as I head to the bathroom to stress pee for what feels like the dozenth time since we got here this afternoon, but I’m not sure that I do.
It still feels surreal that Plato and I uncovered a massive smuggling ring for something called V9, a performance-enhancing cocktail that heals muscle tissue in half the time and turns human beings into rage-filled machines who never lose a match in the ring.
It’s not just a drug; it’s a form of currency. And Dex isn’t just a gym owner; he’s the exclusive dealer for every alpha-male wannabe in the NOPD who feels like a god every time he mixes his V9 packet into his morning smoothie. He bought their silence with cash, yeah, but also with an addiction only he can feed.
The cops “lost” all the evidence related to my hit-and-run because Dex is the only man in this part of the country who can keep them in supply. Justice was never in the cards for me. They didn’t even try. And sadly, the smartest thing I could have done was to move on without causing a fuss.
I wish I had.
Yes, a part of me still rages against the unfairness of it all, but the part of me that needs to keep Dean, Ava, and Bella safe is a hundred times louder. The accident is my past;they’remy future.
Please, let them still be my future. Please, let this nightmare be over soon,I chant silently to myself as I wash my hands and apply another coat of deodorant.
The bathroom mirror is cracked and the overhead light flickers like something from a horror movie, but I look remarkably fierce in my candy red jumpsuit and strings of glittering faux crystal necklaces. I look fierce and hopefully unforgettable to all the people about to watch me swagger into a dive coffee shop dressed like a supermodel refugee from the age of disco.
