Bleeding Edge: Elliot Security (Elliot Security Series Book 2) by Evie Mitchell (short story to read .txt) 📗

A computer geek, my job involved uncovering weaknesses in a company’s cyber security, including information about people who may be doing the wrong thing.

The second-best part of my job, besides doing cool sometimes questionably legal activities, was working with some of the best minds in the industry. The Nucleus, as we referred to ourselves, were a bunch of guys who, like me, were good with computers. We knew how to work technology to our advantage. We even had badges. And a theme song.

Which brought me back to Luc – my direct boss. We’d first been introduced during my interview for the Nucleus. By that stage, I’d been at Elliot Securities for two years but working in tech support. My skills had been woefully underutilised until I’d assisted my boss in building a customised firewall and backup solution. The interview offer had come as a surprise. I’d attended it completely unprepared for the sheer beauty of Luc.

“You can come in now.” The elderly receptionist had ushered me into the meeting room. I’d stepped through, thanking her, and promptly stumbled, fumbling my resume and note pad papers scattered across the floor.

I dropped to the floor, face flaming as I scrambled for my papers. His tall body moved with perfect grace as he stood, rounding the table to help . I could tell he worked out because, while lean, he was solidly built. He stood a few inches taller than my five feet eleven but moved with power and deliberation, all of him in perfect balance.

He’d crouched, reaching out to assist. He’d kept his thick chestnut hair cut but not cropped. He had stubble, the dark scruff framed the edge of his face and mouth, drawing attention to his lips.

His eyes were blue. Not green or grey-blue but piercing clear blue. Long, impossibly perfect dark lashes framed his amazing eyes. Strong eyebrows and nose, a smile on his lips - no dimples. My flush deepened.

“Hi.” He’d held out a few sheets of paper which I quickly accepted and shoved into my folder, hair falling over my face. Still crouched on the floor, he’d offered a hand. “I’m Lucien Falco. Luc.”

“Emmie Franklin.” We shook, remaining crouched.

“Should I leave?” I’d whispered, my eyes finally meeting his.

“Do you want to leave?” He’d whispered back, a small smile tugging his lips.

“No. I want the job.”

“Then” – he’d straightened to stand, reaching his hand down to help me up – “let’s do the interview.”

I’d talked through my experience and been invited back to complete online testing. The tests were straight forward, checking to see if my skills matched my words. At the end of the day, the job was mine.

Elliot Securities used the Nucleus by assigning each member to a case leader. The case leader then utilised your skills for anything they had on the books. Could be a security assessment, physical security advice, inside threat assessment, or information security testing. These days something as basic as physical security still had a technical element – stalkers often started their obsessions online. I’d pinpointed a few threats through a simple internet search.

I’d been assigned to Lucien Falco. I’d now worked for Elliot Securities for three and a bit years, the last eighteen months directly under Lucien. We were a great team, our case-closure rate was excellent, and we got along well.

The only downside? I wasn’t sticking around for much longer. And I had no idea how to tell him.

Heading to the kitchen, I weaved in and out of the crowded line waiting at the bar. As I shifted around a group of girls, hands clutched at my back dragging me down. I lost the grip on the plate, sending it spiralling. My plate shattered as our bodies hit the floor with a loud thud. The bar briefly quietened as heads turned to me and the woman who’d desperately clasped me to her.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry! These damn heels. There’s a wet patch, I just couldn’t stop–”

I disentangled myself from the woman gushing apologies at me.

“No worries.” I waved off offers of assistance from the crowd, then offered her a smile and a hand, helping her stand.

“What the fuck, Mel!”

My limp salad dripped from the jean leg of the angry voice’s owner. Over six foot, built like a line-backer, his neck and cheeks were a mottled purple-red as he glared at the tiny woman beside me. She cowered, arms curling around her middle as her shoulders hunched, her eyes on his feet. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he weaved unsteadily.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”

The man swept his hand back, moving to strike her. Years of training kicked in. As he swung to backhand her face, I stepped forward, deflecting the blow with my forearm, following it up with a hard jab to his collarbone, knocking him back. I shifted in front of the woman, hands raised. He came back, taking a wild swing, roaring as he tried to punch me.

I ducked his arm, stepping forward to knee him in the balls. Taking his other arm, I used the momentum of his body to twist his arm up and around, pegging it behind him as he crashed to the floor, his free hand moving to cup his balls.

Dimly aware of yelling and screams, I tried to calm my racing heart while the man squirmed under me. I dug a knee in his back, pushing harder on his arm to keep him subdued.

“I got him.” Luc pulled the guy’s free arm back, pinning the arm while taking over from me. “You can let go, Emmie.”

I dropped my hands, stepping back, eyes immediately searching for the best exit.

“Okay, guys, that’s enough. Everyone back to your seat.” Security entered the fray, assessing the situation with a glance. His eyes hit me before skittering off to the sobbing woman on my left.

“You need me to call the cops? You wanna make a report?”

I hesitated, glancing at the woman. She nodded, mascara running.

“He’s my