Read Online Lie for Me by Romily Bernard - Free Book Online Page A

boards whine and pop underneath his steel-toed boots. “After I’m done with you, you’ll be nothing more than a smear on the carpet.”
    Bullshit. He’d have to catch me first . I shrug. “But then who’d do your firewall work?”
    Joe sucks his teeth for a beat. “So Paul was serious—you want work?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œCome in then.” He bumps the door open so I can pass, and honestly, there’s something about having Joe Bender behind me that makes my skin crawl.
    â€œYou as good as Paul says?” Joe asks.
    I hesitate. My uncle Paul says computers are modern magic and, because I can fix his, I’m a magician. Uncle Paul smokes a lot of weed. “I have a few specialties—security, firewalls.”
    â€œGood. I can use that. I already have someone who does the coding for the virus. She can handle that stuff and you can field the firewall problems.”
    She? My attention pricks. “What’re you paying?”
    â€œCut of the proceeds. One percent.”
    If I were actually accepting the money, that would be total bs. One percent means the profits’ll be run through Joe and he can pay me whatever because I have no way of verifying exactly how much we’ve made.
    â€œYou don’t like it,” Joe continues, “you can go blow and I’ll find someone else.”
    I shrug. “Fine. I need the work.”
    â€œGood man. Always nice to teach a younger generation a craft.” Joe walks into the dining room—or what used to be a dining room. The lights are low, but I can still see two low tables are covered in computers, their cords snaking to the floor and disappearing into holes in the carpet. They must be storing the servers in the basement to keep them cool.
    â€œYou have your own gear?” Joe asks.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œEven better.” Joe takes a cell from the nearest table and shuffles back to me. “What’s your number?”
    I tell him, and seconds later, a text comes through on my phone.
    â€œThere,” Joe says. “Now you have mine. We should be meeting soon.”
    I store it as he motions to the door with one meaty paw, ready to dismiss me. “I’ll contact you with a time. Show up, do the work, and we won’t have any problems.”
    Fair enough, but the guy’s smile says he’s kinda hoping for problems, like he’s already thinking of ways to take me apart. “Who does your coding?” I ask.
    â€œYou’ll meet her soon enough.”
    I swallow. I need a reason to stay, to ask more questions, and I’m not going to get it. The door’s already open.
    I nod. “Looking forward to hearing from you.”
    â€œNo doubt.” Joe slams the door behind me, the locks clicking into place.
    I walk home, thinking about whether I should contact Carson. I don’t want to . . . and I can’t decide why that is. I’ve got the job. I should feel better about this. In the end, I settle on a text:
    Â 
    Got job. Pay up.
    Â 
    A moment later, my phone buzzes.
    â€œThat’s good news,” Carson says. He’s somewhere busy. I can barely hear him over the surrounding voices. “I’m glad to hear you’re making progress. I did wonder if you were worth my investment.”
    â€œYeah, well, speaking of investments, I should get paid for this.”
    â€œYou haven’t brought me anything yet.”
    â€œI could testify I was recruited for a credit card scam.”
    â€œWould you?”
    â€œIf you needed me to.” Which is a long way of saying no. It’s one thing to narc on Tate in secret. It’s a very different thing to come into the open. Carson can’t protect me from that sort of backlash. I have to live with these people. My mom, Emily, Paul have to live with them too.
    I reach my driveway and turn toward our trailer, feeling like someone let all the air out of me. I want so much more than