Mind Code (Coded Connections Duet #2)

Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Amelia

After we all shower and clean up, I find myself enveloped in Misha’s clothes. The scent of him lingers faintly on the hoodie I’ve pulled on, a mix of his cologne and something uniquely him. But despite the comfort, I still feel the need to get my own things.

“I want to go grab my toothbrush and something to wear tomorrow,” I say, glancing at the guys.

“I’ll go with you,” Oliver offers without hesitation, already walking toward the door.

The ride down to my place is quiet, the hum of the elevator almost soothing in its monotony. I lean against Oliver’s shoulder, trying to keep my eyes open, and he chuckles, kissing my temple when he sees me yawning.

But as the doors slide open with a soft ding, a figure standing in front of my door sends a jolt of unease through me, making my heart stutter in my chest and me grip Oliver’s forearm.

The man’s back is to us, and it looks like he’s examining my lock, his head tilted to the side in concentration. Before I can even process what’s happening, Oliver takes my hand off him and surges forward, his usual shy demeanor replaced by protective fury.

He grabs the guy by the shoulder, his fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket, and spins him around with surprising force.

Then recognition hits.

It’s Dr. Cockwomble.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Oliver’s voice is low, dangerous, a tone I’ve never heard from him before, not even with Daniel.

His grip on Langley’s arm is tight, and Langley strains against Oliver’s hold, his expression shifting from shock to anger in the blink of an eye.

“Let me go,” he snaps, trying to pull free, his face reddening with the effort.

Oliver doesn’t immediately release him, his jaw clenched so tight the muscle in his cheek is ticking. But then he does, shoving Langley back a step, causing him to stumble a bit.

“Start talking,” Oliver demands, his usually soft voice hard as steel. “What the hell were you doing at her door?”

Langley straightens his jacket with jerky movements, then puts his hands in his pockets, glaring at Oliver before he turns his attention to me. I feel pinned by his gaze, my fingers twisting nervously in the hem of Misha’s hoodie.

“I was just checking to make sure Amelia’s safe,” he says defensively, almost wounded. “I heard there were security breaches lately. I was concerned.”

Oliver scoffs, the sound disbelieving. Langley’s gaze zeros in on me, but Oliver steps closer to him, his stance protective as he partially blocks me from view. “More like you were trying to get into her apartment,” he accuses, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses.

Langley shakes his head vehemently, his expression indignant. “That’s outrageous. I was worried since nobody was in the apartment next to hers anymore. Hendricks is gone, and he told me about what happened to Amelia. About the intruder.”

My breath catches at the mention of the attack, the memory of that night flashing through my mind, and I have to suppress a shudder. “You know about that?” The words slip out, shaky, despite my best efforts to keep calm.

Langley’s gaze softens, though I catch the frustration flickering behind his eyes. “Everyone knows, Amelia. I heard something in the hallway and thought I’d make sure you were safe since you’re alone.”

“She’s not alone,” Oliver hisses, his anger barely contained. I can see his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as if he’s fighting the urge to grab Langley again. “And she’s not your fucking problem.”

Langley’s eyes flick between us, his expression hardening.

Yep, he is mine. I am theirs.

Something in Langley’s gaze unsettles me—frustration and something I can’t quite pin down.

“I was just trying to help,” he mutters, but there’s a bitterness now that wasn’t there before.

“Help by minding your own business,” Oliver snaps back, his posture still tense, ready to step in if Langley makes any sudden moves.

I smile at Oliver.

My sweet protector.

Langley raises his hands in a placating gesture, but the look in his eyes tells me he’s not happy about being dismissed like this. “Fine. I’ll go,” he says, his voice clipped. “But make sure you’re careful, Amelia. It seems like this building isn’t as secure as it used to be.”

Langley turns to leave, but something nags at me .

Why did he mention Hendricks?

So I ask him again. “Why did Hendricks quit?”

Langley pauses, glancing back at me with a hint of surprise, hesitating as if he hadn’t expected the question. “I already told you. Personal reasons.” Still, there’s something off in his tone, and when I furrow my brows at him, he huffs a humorless laugh. “But it wasn’t for the money, that’s for sure. I don’t think that small startup pays him any good.”

“What startup?” I ask.

Langley gives me a long, searching look, his eyes narrowing as if he’s weighing how much to say. Finally, he straightens his shirt, muttering under his breath, “I don’t know. Just something I heard.” He shakes his head in apparent frustration. “This is what I get for trying to help.” Without another word, he turns and walks away, his footsteps fading as he rounds the corner.

As soon as he’s out of sight, I turn to Oliver, the unease in my chest growing. “Did you hear that?”

Oliver nods, his expression serious as he pulls out his phone, dialing quickly. “Grey, come down here. Bring Misha and the laptops.”

Opening the door to my apartment, Oliver and I step inside. Grey’s voice is audible on the other end of Oliver’s phone, sharp and alert, but my mind is too preoccupied to focus on their conversation.

What startup was Langley talking about?

And is Hendricks the one who stole my work after all?

A few minutes later, Grey and Misha walk into my apartment with their and Oliver’s laptops in hand, their faces etched with concern.

“What are we going to do about this, dickhead?” Grey asks, already slipping into problem-solving mode as he comes to me and pulls me close, kissing my forehead .

Misha looks tense, but when I reach out for his hand and smile at him, he visibly relaxes.

“We’re gonna do something about him soon, but first, we need to figure out what startup Hendricks is working for now,” Oliver decides.

Grey’s expression darkens as he listens, his mind clearly racing. “I’m going to hack into all the smart home system startups in the King County area,” he adds sharply. “If Hendricks is working for one of them, I might be able to find his new address or at least some data that can tell us more.”

He doesn’t wait for approval, already moving to set up his laptop on my small table. Misha joins him, his laptop open and ready to assist.

Oliver takes my hand and sits down on my couch, setting his laptop next to him.

They work in silence, and I feel a surge of protectiveness for my space—my home—and the vulnerability that comes with not knowing who targeted me. I turn to Oliver, who’s been watching me with a careful eye. “Can I get Jamie back?” I ask quietly. “I’d feel better if he was here, monitoring everything, alerting us if anyone tries to break in again.”

Oliver raises an eyebrow, considering my request. “You want Jamie back with access to the cameras and everything?”

I nod, handing him my new laptop from the couch table. “I trust you,” I say simply, the weight of those words heavy with the implications of the past few weeks.

Oliver takes the laptop from me, his expression softening. “All right, my Fave. We’ll get Jamie set up.”

Oliver begins to work on integrating Jamie into my system again, checking in with Grey for some of the security measures .

Grey’s fingers fly over the keyboard, his eyes scanning lines of code as he mutters under his breath. “There’s something here,” he shares after a few moments, drawing everyone’s attention. “A company called Lucid Dynamics. It’s a small startup focused on smart home technology. And guess what? Hendricks’ name is all over their internal documents.”

Misha leans in closer to Grey’s screen, his brow furrowed in concentration. “That’s where he went. But why? What’s so special about this place?”

Grey taps a few more keys, his expression hardening. “They’re developing a new AI-driven security system. Something that can learn and adapt on its own, beyond the standard programming. It’s still in the beta phase, but Hendricks seems to be involved.”

I exchange a look with Oliver, who’s now fully engaged in setting up Jamie on my laptop. “If he’s involved with something like that, it could explain a lot,” Oliver says thoughtfully.

“No, it doesn’t,” I say, furrowing my brow. “He was always interested in smart security systems. That doesn’t explain why he would steal my work, sell it to Elysium, and start a poorly paid job at a startup.”

“Or he’s using the money he made by selling your AR project to fund the startup,” Grey mutters, eyes fixed on his laptop.

I swallow hard, the implications of what they’re saying sinking in. “And Langley… do you think he’s involved too?”

Grey glances at me, his eyes sharp. “I wouldn’t rule out anything. But for now, let’s focus on Hendricks and securing your place. We’ll deal with Langley later if we need to.”

Oliver finishes setting up Jamie, and hands me my laptop with a reassuring smile. “Jamie’s back online. He’ll monitor everything. Cameras, sensors, any unusual activity. You’ll know if anything’s out of the ordinary.”

I take the laptop from him, feeling a little more at ease, knowing that Jamie is watching over things again. “Thank you.” I smile as the yellow interface appears on my laptop screen. “Jamie, are you there?”

“Good evening, Amelia.” His response is immediate, the calm, measured tone of his voice coming through the speakers.

I smile brightly at Oliver, who gives me one of his own in return.

“I missed you, Jamie. Are you all right?”

“Of course, Amelia,” Jamie responds. “I’m fully operational and running at optimal efficiency. How can I assist you today?”

“You could start by explaining how you managed to lock yourself down so securely,” Oliver murmurs, his brow furrowed with curiosity and disbelief, as if he’s amazed that his own creation could pose such a challenge in bringing him back online.

“When I detected the situation escalating, I immediately activated the security protocols that Grey had implemented,” Jamie explains smoothly. “I created a backup of my core systems and uploaded it to the cloud, ensuring there was no interruption in my functionality, before I uninstalled myself.”

I let out a small breath, feeling both relieved and burdened by lingering guilt. “I’m so sorry, Jamie. We still haven’t found out who it was, and this should have never happened.”

There’s a pause, just long enough for it to feel almost human, and then Jamie speaks again, this time with a weight to his words that sends a chill down my spine. “Actually, Amelia, I know who the intruder was. ”

The room goes silent. Grey’s fingers freeze over his keyboard, his eyes snapping over to us. “What?” he demands, the disbelief clear in his expression. “How do you know?”

Oliver and Misha exchange quick, worried glances, clearly caught off guard.

“What the fuck…” Misha murmurs.

Jamie’s tone remains calm and matter-of-fact as he begins to explain. “During the attack, Amelia’s health tracker recorded a distinct irregularity in the intruder’s heartbeat pattern. Not from typical stress or excitement, but something more subtle. It resembled the heartbeat pattern of someone with a slight cardiac irregularity, a condition that wouldn’t necessarily be noticeable without close monitoring.”

Grey’s eyes narrow as he listens, his mind clearly racing. “Go on, Jamie.”

Jamie continues without missing a beat. “After identifying this unusual heartbeat pattern during the attack, I cross-referenced it with the data from Amelia’s health tracker for everyone who has ever entered her apartment. This irregularity is rare, and the match appeared in only one individual among those records, which weren’t many in the first place.” Jamie pauses briefly before delivering the final revelation. “The data strongly suggests that the person Amelia encountered during the attack was her boss, Dr. Langley.”

A heavy silence falls over the room as the implications of Jamie’s words sink in. Grey is the first to move, slamming his fist on the table. “Why the fuck didn’t we think to download Jamie and check with him earlier?”

Oliver runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his expression. “We should have done this sooner. We had him backed up. We just didn’t think— ”

“Because I told you not to,” I cut him off.

Holy fucking shit.

Langley stole my work and hurt me.

I never liked him, and he is a fucking chauvinistic prick, but this?

Misha looks at me with guilt and realization in his eyes. “No, it’s because we already had all the data Jamie had. We had those records. We just didn’t make the connection.”

Grey walks over to us and sits down beside me, letting out a harsh breath and shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Princess. This is on us.”

I reach out, placing a hand on Grey’s arm, grounding both of us. “You were doing the best you could with what you knew. But now we have the answer. That’s a good thing.”

“We have to tell the police. Or at least Elysium. But I’m not sure this is enough evidence,” Oliver says, a note of doubt creeping in. “That pattern… it works for us because we know Jamie’s capabilities and how reliable he is. But I don’t think it would hold up in front of a jury. It’s just too circumstantial.”

Grey looks frustrated, his hands running through his hair. “You’re right. We need something more concrete, something that will stick.”

Misha, who’s been pacing the room, stops and looks at Grey. “So, what’s our next move? We can’t just sit on this.”

Grey stands abruptly again and walks back to his laptop. “Let me see what I can find on Hendricks.” His eyes flicker with concentration, the tension in the room thickening as we all wait in silence. “Got it,” he finally says, his voice sharp. “I’ve got his new address.”

“Why would that help? I thought we were trying to figure out what to do about Langley? And find out why he just tried to get into my flat again?” I ask, brows furrowed .

Have I missed something?

“Amelia,” Oliver exhales slowly. “It’s strange that Hendricks quit and left right when all this happened. Now that we know where he lives, we need to talk to him. Maybe he knows something, or maybe he’s involved. At the very least, he might have another lead for us to get more evidence.”

“Tomorrow, we’re gonna pay him a visit.” Misha nods in agreement, his earlier frustration giving way to focus. “It’s worth a shot. We need anything we can get to build a solid case.”

Grey closes his laptop, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “All right, let’s call it a night. We’ll figure this out tomorrow after we talk to Hendricks.”

Though the tension in the air hasn’t dissipated, we all agree.

“Want to sleep here or at ours?” Grey asks, and I just shrug.

I’m too fucking exhausted to care.

Oliver walks to the door and makes sure it’s locked, making the decision for me. Then we head to my bedroom, and the four of us pile into my bed. It’s a tight fit but comforting in its own way.

Oliver puts our glasses aside before his arms wrap around me protectively while Misha and Grey settle in on either side, their closeness is a silent promise that they’re here with me, that I’m not alone in this.