3. Deckard

" W e got another one."

My co-creator of Idée Fixe says as he slides the folder onto my desk. I'm too busy to look inside as I'm currently hacking into one of the most prolific banks in New York, by placing a worm in the system.

"Great," I mumble.

"Deckard."

That's not my real name, I don't share that. Even though we have been best friends for a while now, I've always just gone by my hacker name and left it as that.

"Fuck's sake." The laptop snaps closed, and I just about manage to get my fingers out on time.

"Jesus, what Nix?"

Smirking, he curls his fingers around the file, thrusting it in front of me. "You're going to want to look at this one."

Taking it from him I roll my eyes. "Why?" Flipping it open, I scan through all the usual information that is offered when you sign up to our exclusive parties.

"Ok, what am I looking at?" I sigh, frustratedly.

"Keep reading, trust me." Leaning back from the desk and standing straighter, he crosses his arms.

"Primal play, degradation." The typical kinks most women who attend here go for. We created Idée Fixe after his previous club was taken away for ‘ Behaviour not pertaining to the safety of others." It's as though being able to experience your kinks in what we call a safe environment, wasn't deemed safe by the local Mayor.

So, we had the idea for this. A secret website found on a specialised link download via the dark web. The link is one hundred percent safe and only those with a special code can access it. You only get that code from a designated task master.

As much as the link is safe, it allows me full access to your life, I get to see every single aspect of it. From your birth, all the way to where you are now. Troy is a little horse that I'm quite fond of. He bounces through all your information, secretly gathering what we need, to decide whether you're a good enough person to be accepted. I'm able to see everything from police records to the brand of your favourite drink.

Cameras you were featured on as well as extremely personal information. If you're good, you're safe and you're welcomed. If your life has been nothing but shitty, access denied. I don't need to steal money from people, I have enough of it from the ones who fund this work of art, alongside me. This place gives them the safety and suitability to fulfil all their needs in an environment that they and their counterpart feel safe and respected in.

Not just that, but the underbelly of this place is something much worse. Something I've dabbled with before. My need to hurt and punish is satiated with this place and keeps me from going off the rails and heading out on a murder spree.

The things I see on the dark web, as a tier one hacker, is something you'll never understand. Becoming a Phantom was easier than I expected, it enables me to satiate my desires in the best possible way and even though I haven't joined in on the fetish side for a while. My bloodlust has always been taken care of.

"Knife play, boot-" I don't finish reading the rest of the list, I can't, because the moment I look to the right of the folder and the polaroid clipped to it, I recognise an all too familiar face. Looking up at Nix, he's grinning at me with excitement.

"Yeah." He nods. "I told you." He laughs briefly. "She looks a little different than the picture you carry in your wallet but-"

"Nix… you're about to cross a line." I try to keep my tone relaxed, I don't want to rip his throat out, but this isn't a conversation I care to have with him right now. "Besides," closing the folder, I place it on the desk, opening my laptop and continuing with my work. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Oh, ok." He uncrosses his arms and steps forward. "If it doesn't matter I'll just-"

"Touch the folder and I'll remove both your fucking hands, Nix." I snap, not looking away from the screen or paying him any attention as I continue trying to break through this fucking firewall. I've been working on this bank for three days now and whoever is running the cyber security is impressing me in ways I never thought I'd see.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." His laughter echoes through the room. "Looks like someone will finally start being a bad boy again."

I groan, sitting back in my chair. "Do you always have to make everything sound so fucking weird?"

It's been years since I last saw her.

"Yes, because she," he presses his finger to the folder, "is the reason you haven't been able to get involved with anyone since. It's been seven years bro." Growling, I rub my hands over my face, mainly because I hate when he's fucking right. The feeling in my gut turning me over.

"Fine." Pinching the bridge of my nose I concede. "Bring her in." Nix claps his hands, rubbing them together. "But nobody," I look at him, pointing my finger, "and I mean fucking nobody, Nix, touches her but me. Do you understand?"

Holding his hands up, his grin is wide and in all honesty, it makes me want to punch the shit out of him. "You got it, boss." He chuckles, snatching the folder from the table and taking his leave.

I hate it when he fucking calls me that.