Page 71 of Twisted Little Game

“How did you… how did you find this person?” I ask, feeling like I’m going to be sick. “His face was never exposed in the images of us. That goddamn hat, pulled low over his face…”

“His name is Lucian Farina. I wrote some lines of code that could scour all hate comments made about you on every article posted about you in the last year. It looked for similarities in the way people typed, and what they said. It was Roman’s idea.”

“And?”

“And there was one commenter in particular who seemed more unhinged than the others. Most of the websites had their security locked down, but one of the trashier gossip sites had absolute garbage security. I was able to access the commenters’ emails and passwords.”

“This is why I asked Hunter,” Roman adds. “I don’t know how, but he is a wizard. The real hacker.”

“It’s not all that complex, really. The email address was very simple to get, but the website also didn't have one-way password hashing. All it took was a couple post requests with code injections sent into the unprotected backend, and I was able to grab all the passwords in plain text.”

“Wow.”

“So, I scoured for other instances of that same email address on other websites, used the same password, and… this is the Instagram I gained access to.”

I pull in a long breath. “So the person sending me threats was the guy I was with, not people who were mad about it?”

“Could be both, or it could be just him,” Roman says. “Did he seem dangerous when you were with him?”

“He just seemed very hungry for sex, to be honest. He was very rude to the bartenders at the place by the beach, though.”

“Definitely a red flag,” Hunter says. “But the threats you’ve received since that day have been detailed?”

“The ones I got when I was in the city were. It wasn’t just rocks at the door. It was notes saying shit like I would take pleasure in seeing you take your last breath.”

“And this is exactly why you should take it seriously,” Roman tells me firmly, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “This person is crazy enough to say that, and crazy enough to find you at Crimson, come all the way here, and put a fucking rock at your door? Jesus, Tate… hold on. Did the guy smoke cigarettes?”

I nod. “He had a pack, at the beach, yes.”

Roman frowns. “This could have been the man who was on the quad watching you that night, when you first got here.”

I exhale, fluttering my eyes shut. “I hate this. I hate all of this.”

“One small piece of good news is that I saw the location data from his last post on Instagram,” Hunter says. “As of two days ago, last night, and an hour ago, and all of them were posted from New York City, not here at Crimson.”

“Thank fuck,” I say.

“So for right this moment you are safe. From him, at least.”

“But all it takes is a few hours in a car, and he could be here,” Roman warns us both. “Stay vigilant.”

Hunter nods. “I have an alert set to message me any time he makes a new post, on a website, or on either of his IG pages. I will know, and keep you both informed.”

“And I will have Maks look up every shred of history, and past information, about the name Lucian Farina,” Roman says. “We can meet with Maks right now. Let’s shower off. Hunter… I owe you everything.”

He gives Roman a little salute. “I want to help. I have to go meet Rayne for a date, but please call me if you need anything.”

“Where are you and Rayne headed for your date?”

Hunter smiles. “I’m taking him to laser tag, and I’m going to whoop his ass. I like when he gets competitive with me, because at first he’s all silently pissed off at me, and then we fuck it out later.”

I laugh, reaching up to give him a high-five. “So hot.”

“It’s very hot, and very fun.”

“Have a good night,” I tell him. “And thank you so much, Hunter. I don’t deserve it, but everyone here has been so kind to me.”

“You totally deserve it, Landrey,” he calls back as he walks away. “Be kinder to yourself, kid!”