Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

FINN

S ince Lukas learned my real name, thinking of myself as Ethan is weird.

I'm drunk; I won't lie. A lot of my life feels weird lately. I've got this disconnect with reality, like I'm watching myself, looking back on what I've done. I remember what I thought about Kayla the first time we had sex. She's a good lay , but that's crap. I'm not that callous. That's a shield I put up.

Walking down the waterfront, I reach into my pocket, take the whiskey flask, and slug some more back. If I can get money, maybe I can find a way to fight back and save Ashley. Am I really a sociopath? Do I believe that about myself?

I've gone too far to back out, though. I lied to Kayla and used her. She doesn't deserve what I've done, but it's not like I can snap my fingers and take it back now. It's not like she'd ever understand.

My steps veer left and then right. Stopping near the water, I suck in big lungfuls of the sea breeze, trying to bolster myself. They want to meet with me, probably to make more threats.

When I hear the car pulling up, I stand up straight, hoping to hide how wasted I am. It's a black sedan with tinted windows, the usual deal. A bridge casts a giant shadow over us. The traffic flows up there, with all those people having no idea what's happening below.

The car stops, and a man steps out. He has such a plain face. That's what always strikes me about the leader of this gang. His name is Nobody; that's what he calls himself. He's around mid-thirties, I guess, with smooth skin, no blemishes, a cut-and-paste haircut, wearing a suit with nothing remarkable about it.

"You're late," he says.

"I got lost," I tell him.

That's true, but not in the physical sense. I've lost my sense of right and wrong. I want it back. I don't want to pretend I'm some big bad wolf anymore. I want to be a good person if I'm still capable of that.

"Get in."

I've got no choice but to climb into the back of the car. He turns around and drives me out to a small outhouse-type building. He doesn't say anything since there's nothing to say. We both know what he's going to show me.

Parking up, he steps from the car and doesn't even bother to threaten me. I follow him numbly into the building. Several masked men stand around a room lit by a naked bulb light. The floor is damp, something dripping down the walls. The place reeks of metal and filth.

My sister, Ashley, is tied to a chair in the middle of the room. She's not bleeding or anything, but she looks skinny and terrified. She's older than me, twenty-three, but I've always seen it as my job to protect her, even if I tried for a while to pretend I was some sociopath who didn't give a damn. Next to her is Sebastian Walker, the man who co-founded one of the biggest multimedia companies in the world. He's got a nasty bruise across one side of his face.

Nobody—what a self-important prick —walks behind the pair, tapping his fingernail against his teeth. That gesture is the only noteworthy thing about him. It's bizarre.

"Your job was simple," he says, tap, tap, tap . "Seduce the girl. Find something we can use publicly to dismantle the smiling, ugly veneer Lukas Larson presents to the world."

"So you can tear down a pillar of technological enslavement," I murmur.

He tilts his head. "Are you mocking me?"

Crap. The booze is making me reckless. "No," I say.

"The world is falling to machines, my friend. That may sound silly to you, but it's a fact. Lukas will fall just like every other tech freak will. It's the way it has to be."

It's a bunch of idiot talk, honestly. Ashley looks at me with the same wide, terrified eyes she used to aim my way when Dad flew into one of his rages.

"I'm working on it," I tell him.

"When's the last time you saw the slut?"

"A few days ago."

Instinctively, my hand clenches into a fist. Kayla isn't a slut . Kayla's a funny, interesting, kind, accepting person. She's far better than a man like me ever deserves. She's got a heart overflowing with love. I've shared real stuff with her about my childhood and poetry, but I've lied too damn much.

"Work harder," Nobody says, leaning down over my sister, causing her to cringe away. "This rat ," he says, nodding to Sebastian, "was going to take a holiday. We had to nab him early. Inconvenient, you'd agree? The timeline has picked up. First, the media destruction. Then, we show him what we're capable of."

Sebastian bites down around the rag they've stuffed into his mouth. His eyes are different. They're angry and resentful. If his hands weren't tied behind his back, I think he'd leap at his kidnappers in a full-on rage.

They're going to kill Sebastian. That's my guess. Nobody—or whatever the asshole's name is—pretends he's doing this for some oh-so grand cause. I can see it in his plain eyes, though. The truth is he likes this. He enjoys the power. He's tricked a few morons into wearing masks and following him around. He chose me because he happened to seduce my sister and deceive her the same way I tricked Kayla. I guess Ashley must've mentioned I can be resourceful. She saw that enough growing up.

"Tick-tock, Finn," he snaps. "The end is nigh."

The end is nigh . Who the fuck speaks like that?

"I love you, sis," I say.

She tries to say it but can't talk with the rag stuffed so deep in her mouth.

Returning to the city, I get more whiskey. It's a mistake, but I feel like I'm having a mental breakdown. It's like I've slipped out of my skin, and I can watch myself—the person I've been ever since I first "matched" with Kayla on the dating app. I've been a self-deluded ass. I've lied to myself. I've pretended I'm some apex predator and that I like it.

"Are you okay, son?"

I look up. The world is blurry. I find an elderly man staring down at me. I realize I'm in a park, balling like a baby. I'm shaking with the pain. He leans against a walking stick, letting me spring up, run away, and dart around the corner. I can't stand the pity and the support in his eyes. It makes me wonder what it would've been like if I had a dad who cared.

Hailing a cab, I tell them Kayla's address. What have I done? What the hell is wrong with me?

I need help. That's the truth. I know I should slow down. I'm letting the booze make decisions for me, but that's a good thing. The booze knows better than I do.