I squeezed his hands. “I’m sure he hears you.”
He shrugged then inhaled deeply, slowly letting out the air in a long sigh.
“I made a lot of mistakes, Becca. But I’m not a bad person.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Rodney would have kicked my ass for pulling that stunt. He was a hacker too, but companies hired him to lock down people like me. I should have listened to him. I should have done things differently.”
“I think you paid the price.”
He ran his fingers along the top of my hands, and he spoke quietly. “Will I continue to pay, Becca? Does my past mean you can’t be part of my future?”
I heard the edge to his voice, the one that expected me to tell him to leave. But I couldn’t. Reid Matthews had more than paid for his error in judgment. His entire life, people had cast him aside and looked down on him.
I wasn’t going to be one of them.
I tightened my arms. “No, Reid. I want to be part of your future.”
He said nothing. I felt the long tremor that ran down his spine, the splash of a tear that fell on my hands.
I pressed my forehead onto his back. “I’m here, Reid.”
He turned, wrapping his arms around me. I knew he was about to snap. I tightened my grip on him, letting him know I was right there and ready to catch him.
Reid
Becca went to the kitchen to make us something to eat. I was sure she was allowing me some time to collect myself, which I appreciated. I had never broken down in front of another person the way I did with Becca. She made me feel safe enough to allow it to happen. I had never divulged the details of my story to anyone the way I had to her.
Aiden, Maddox, and Bentley knew most of it, but I had told them in bits and pieces as we got to know each other. They had become my family, allowing me to be part of their brotherhood. They trusted me the same way I trusted them—with an unwavering conviction. They teased and called me kid, but it was done in a way I didn’t find offensive. It was how they worked as a unit, using laughter to show they cared. Aiden had a nickname for everyone he cared for, so it cemented my bond with them.
I passed a weary hand over my face and stood. I began to gather all the pieces of equipment that went flying when I vaulted over the counter to get to Becca. I heard her laughter and glanced up. She was sliding a plate across the counter.
“You know you could have gone around the corner and saved yourself all that work.”
I shook my head with a grin. “That would have taken too long. I needed to get to you.”
“Mission accomplished.” She winked. “Come and eat.”
I sat on a stool, waiting until she joined me. We munched on the sandwiches, sitting so close our thighs pressed together.
“Is it a coincidence your name is Reid Matthews?” she asked.
“No. I changed it legally when I got out of prison. They called me Johnny Dee my whole life—a spin on John Doe since they had no idea what my mother might have named me, if anything. I hated it. I wanted a name that meant something. So I took the name of the only two people who ever tried to make a difference in my life—who made me less than invisible. I was determined to make them proud.”
She leaned closer. “I know they would be. That was a lovely tribute to them.”
“I try to live up to it every day.”
“Do you have a birth certificate?”
“One was issued by the province. They gave me a birthdate of the first of December. I had it all changed—” I winked at her “—legally.”
“Really?”
I chuckled as I took a bite, chewing then swallowing. “It was very complex, and I won’t get into all the details, but yes, it is legal.”
“Did you ever try to find your mother?”
“Rodney and I did, yes. The parameters were massive, though. I didn’t even have a birth date to go on or a province to start with. Even checking all baby boys born in all of Canada around the date they guessed I was born was overwhelming. Their date was only a guess. I could have been three weeks old or ten days. They had no idea.” I wiped my mouth. “In the end, I decided it wasn’t worth it. She abandoned me. It was more a passing interest than a need to know. I decided to leave it in the past where it belonged.”
She sipped her iced tea with a sad smile, but she didn’t push it. She asked about the money. I told her the same thing I told Maddox, explaining how I sent money every month to someone who needed it.
“How do you find them?”
I looked at her, my eyebrows raised. “I use my skills.”
“Oh.”
She worried her lip. “How did you meet Aiden and get hired with BAM?”
“I took a lot of courses while I was in prison. I read everything I could, including the daily newspapers. Anything to keep my mind active and up to date. There was a picture one day of the three of them—Bentley, Aiden, and Maddox—and I read the article about their friendship and company. It—they—intrigued me. I wondered what it would be like to have that sort of connection. I started following them online, reading different articles about them. One day I saw an ad for an IT job at the company, and I went for it.” I finished my sandwich and pushed her plate toward her. “Eat up.”
As she ate, I told her my story of meeting Aiden and Maddox and my temper. She listened with wide eyes as I confided in her the story of Emmy’s kidnapping, the stalking incident with Cami, and Maddox’s hit-and-run.
“You helped with all of that?”
“Yes.” I tilted my head. “I only hack and use my talent when asked, Becca. And only for good. I learned my lesson, and I follow Rodney’s legacy. I promise you, you have nothing to worry about in regard to my career or being in trouble with the law.”
“I believe you.” She went into the kitchen and returned with coffee and a plate of her peanut butter cookies. I ate two in rapid succession, groaning with enjoyment.
“You make the best cookies ever.”
She smiled. “Maddox might have told me peanut butter was your favorite.”
“They are.”
“Could I ask you, ah, something?”
“You can ask me anything.”
She drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “You were in prison for how long?”
“Four years.”
She played with a plate in front of her, turning it around several times. “Were you, ah, safe?”
I covered her hand. “It wasn’t a fun place, Becca. But it wasn’t a maximum-security prison. My cellmate was an old guy who had been there off and on for years. One of the career criminals your dad warned you about. But he was decent, and he protected me, I guess you could say. He said I reminded him of his kid. So, if you’re asking what I think you are, no, I was never raped. I was okay.”
“Oh, good,” she breathed out. “Okay.”
“Prison wasn’t fun, and I saw a lot of things I wish I had never had witnessed. I was scared for four years,” I admitted. “I will never forget those feelings, or everything I witnessed. No matter the level of security, I was still in prison. It was a long four years paying for my crime. I had no family or friends, no one to come see me on visitor day. I never made a call unless it was to my public defender asking about something or checking on my next opportunity for early release. The same with mail. I never had a card or letter unless it was related to my case.” I stroked the edge of the counter with my finger, repeatedly tracing a trail on the granite. “I was lonely.”