Fight: A Stepbrother Romance Novella by Stephanie Brother Page B
Authors: Stephanie Brother
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waited for the computer to be ready, I took a brief shower, even keeping the flash drive with me on the back of the toilet so it wouldn't get wet, but was within reach at any moment.
By the time I emerged from the bathroom wrapped in one of their thin towels, since I had no other clothes and hadn't thought to acquire any, the laptop was ready. In my nervousness, I fumbled with the flash drive, finally getting it to fit into the USB port. I held my breath as I clicked it open, finding files that were grayed out with strange names.
Shit. I needed a password to access those files, and I was stumped.
I tried a few variations of my birthday, Laura's birthday, and my father's, but nothing worked. In desperation, I tried Paxton's birthday on the off chance my father was a sadistic bastard who would get a thrill out of using Paxton's numbers that way. It was also a dead end. I was reasonably proficient with technology, but I was no hacker, and I definitely needed someone who knew what they were doing.
I kept the flash drive beside me when I lay down in bed. Reluctantly, I listened to the voicemail from my father. The first was simply inquiring when I was getting back with dinner, but the next and was a different matter. His voice was hard and cold, and he demanded I bring back the thing I had taken. Those were his words, and nothing else. Still, I shivered at the threatening tone. I knew he had to be looking for me, and I assumed he wouldn't be searching alone. It seemed prudent to ditch my car and make it with cash from here on out.
Though I had been tired, I was no longer able to sleep. I dressed in my dirty clothes, scooped up my things, and left the hotel room. I was back on the road hours before sunrise, and I drove with single-minded determination, stopping only once for gas. When I entered a large city later that morning, I left my car parked at a busy airport. Then I took a taxi across town to the bus station. I didn't feel safe until I was on the bus, and we were on the road.
It was a nightmare journey that lasted twenty-two hours. Every stop made me fearful, especially when I was forced to disembark the bus to change to a different one at one point. I was certain my father or his men would find me, but I never had a hint of trouble. That didn't mean there wasn't trouble following me, and I wasn't naïve enough to think I was safe as long as I had the flash drive.
Finally, we entered Vegas, and I got off at the main station just down the Strip. Rather than head toward the nice hotels on the Strip, I made my way toward Fremont Street. I figured I might have better luck getting a hotel room with just cash in that part of town. As I wandered, I found myself on Main Street, which appeared to be a decrepit area full of criminals. It wasn’t a safe place to stay, but it wasn't the kind of place my father would expect me to go to.
I checked into a small hotel, where the desk clerk accepted an extra hundred dollars in lieu of identification, taking a room that smelled like someone's ashtray, and spent twenty minutes moving the heavy dresser that doubled as a TV stand to block the door. In addition to cigarette holes in the bedspread and a giant dead roach in the corner, the room had a lock, but I didn't trust it.
When I was slightly assured that I might be at least partially safe in this hellhole, I plugged in the laptop and began to search. I already knew I wouldn't get hold of Paxton, at least not easily. Instead, I had to find someone else, someone who I’d hoped never to meet. Even typing her first name into the Google search bar, along with the words “nightclub owner” and “fighting” made my stomach twist with jealousy. Still, what other choice did I have? Lila-whoever was my best hope to locate Paxton. If I could just find her.
It didn’t take long for me to discover a Lila Barrett, who owned “SINuous,” a local hotspot nightclub. She was also listed as a sponsor of several fighters, including Paxton
By the time I emerged from the bathroom wrapped in one of their thin towels, since I had no other clothes and hadn't thought to acquire any, the laptop was ready. In my nervousness, I fumbled with the flash drive, finally getting it to fit into the USB port. I held my breath as I clicked it open, finding files that were grayed out with strange names.
Shit. I needed a password to access those files, and I was stumped.
I tried a few variations of my birthday, Laura's birthday, and my father's, but nothing worked. In desperation, I tried Paxton's birthday on the off chance my father was a sadistic bastard who would get a thrill out of using Paxton's numbers that way. It was also a dead end. I was reasonably proficient with technology, but I was no hacker, and I definitely needed someone who knew what they were doing.
I kept the flash drive beside me when I lay down in bed. Reluctantly, I listened to the voicemail from my father. The first was simply inquiring when I was getting back with dinner, but the next and was a different matter. His voice was hard and cold, and he demanded I bring back the thing I had taken. Those were his words, and nothing else. Still, I shivered at the threatening tone. I knew he had to be looking for me, and I assumed he wouldn't be searching alone. It seemed prudent to ditch my car and make it with cash from here on out.
Though I had been tired, I was no longer able to sleep. I dressed in my dirty clothes, scooped up my things, and left the hotel room. I was back on the road hours before sunrise, and I drove with single-minded determination, stopping only once for gas. When I entered a large city later that morning, I left my car parked at a busy airport. Then I took a taxi across town to the bus station. I didn't feel safe until I was on the bus, and we were on the road.
It was a nightmare journey that lasted twenty-two hours. Every stop made me fearful, especially when I was forced to disembark the bus to change to a different one at one point. I was certain my father or his men would find me, but I never had a hint of trouble. That didn't mean there wasn't trouble following me, and I wasn't naïve enough to think I was safe as long as I had the flash drive.
Finally, we entered Vegas, and I got off at the main station just down the Strip. Rather than head toward the nice hotels on the Strip, I made my way toward Fremont Street. I figured I might have better luck getting a hotel room with just cash in that part of town. As I wandered, I found myself on Main Street, which appeared to be a decrepit area full of criminals. It wasn’t a safe place to stay, but it wasn't the kind of place my father would expect me to go to.
I checked into a small hotel, where the desk clerk accepted an extra hundred dollars in lieu of identification, taking a room that smelled like someone's ashtray, and spent twenty minutes moving the heavy dresser that doubled as a TV stand to block the door. In addition to cigarette holes in the bedspread and a giant dead roach in the corner, the room had a lock, but I didn't trust it.
When I was slightly assured that I might be at least partially safe in this hellhole, I plugged in the laptop and began to search. I already knew I wouldn't get hold of Paxton, at least not easily. Instead, I had to find someone else, someone who I’d hoped never to meet. Even typing her first name into the Google search bar, along with the words “nightclub owner” and “fighting” made my stomach twist with jealousy. Still, what other choice did I have? Lila-whoever was my best hope to locate Paxton. If I could just find her.
It didn’t take long for me to discover a Lila Barrett, who owned “SINuous,” a local hotspot nightclub. She was also listed as a sponsor of several fighters, including Paxton
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