Hacked: Access Granted

Chapter One: The Plan

I can't remember the last time I've had a decent night's sleep. Nor can I remember the last time I slept without having a nightmare to wake me up in the dead of the night. I do remember and recognize the constant thoughts that pattern themselves throughout my brain. Those thoughts that threaten to tear my whole being apart. What kind of thoughts you ask? The thoughts where life holds no meaning. My nightmares give a sense of discomfort that never leaves my side. So, here I am. Clenching my hands into fists like I was about to punch someone. I didn't have to wipe my forehead to know there was a layer of sweat drenching my paling skin. Actually, I didn't recognize the ceiling above me as my own.

Wait a second, where the fuck am I?

My attempt at getting up was profusely stopped by the rope that tied my hands to the posts of the bed. I drew in a deep breath. Now was not a good time to panic. I blinked, trying to see more clearly in the dark. The last thing I remembered was having a hot chocolate before bed and everything is kind of fuzzy after that. My throat caught for a moment. Have I been kidnapped? My face screwed up in contemplation. Wouldn't I be in more of a dungeon type place if I was kidnapped? Wait, let's consider the fact that I'm hardly a kid, so I was just teenager-napped. That doesn't even make any sense.

"Max, you're a fuck wit." My own voice surprised me in the silence.

"I can agree with you one hundred percent." A male voice drifted from across the room as a dull light flickered on. My eyes automatically snapped shut and I sighed outwardly.

"If you're going to kill me, could you just do it now?" I thought for a moment before adding, "And quickly?" A chucked erupted from the male, a sweet and seductive sound to my ears. Sweet? Seductive? Man I must be losing it already.

"What pleasure would I have in killing you, Max?" He didn't sound too much older than I was; with me being the ripe old age of eighteen. See, too old to be kidnapped. I slowly opened my eyes against the light, finally able to see the room properly. In the corner, sitting on what looked like a very uncomfortable chair, sat an equally uncomfortable guy.

"Well why else would I be tied up in a bed?" My fingers twitched as I came to a sudden realization. "Can you just rape me after I'm dead?" The room went silent.

"I uh," the guy stumbled across his words, "I don't want to rape you, Max." He sounded as awkward as he looked. He glanced up at me, dark brown eyes darting around the room. He looked too familiar.

"Oh for shit sake. Why am I tied up to a bed then?" I shot at him.

"Because I figured you'd be more comfortable in the bed than this chair." He threw back at me with a poisonous look, motioning towards the chair he was sitting on. I had to agree, the bed did seem more comfortable than the chair. He stood up and made his way to the bed, sitting down next to my hip. I cringed and he did the same. A moment later, a bubble of laughter escaped my lips. This whole situation seemed too hilarious for me. The look of his face was incredulous. "Why the fuck are you laughing?" He looked so shocked I couldn't help but keep laughing.

"You don't want to kill me, you don't want to rape me. You've tied me to the bed because you didn't want me being uncomfortable on the chair. What the hell do you want with me?" I couldn't be scared at this point. This had to be the worst kidnapping that's ever happened. While it took me a few moments to sober up, he stayed completely quiet the whole time, just staring at the pillow to the side of my head. When I finally stopped laughing, and the giggles didn't threaten to burst from my lips, I took the chance to survey my kidnapper. He had olive skin, the type that liked to go out in the sun a lot; black hair that complimented his skin and dark brown eyes well. He was attractive, and his voice fitted him perfectly. While I was thinking about how hot he was, he drew in a deep breath to begin talking.

"It was a stupid idea to do this," He started, "But I have good reasons in doing so." I raised an eyebrow as he looked at me. "I need your help. See, Max, I know you." I froze, what does this kid know exactly? "I know how you used to work for Blake Ezekiel, and now that he's gone, I'm taking his place."

"Why didn't you just give me a call if you're taking his place?" I joked stiffly. I didn't like where this was going. Let me quickly fill you in on who Blake is and how he fits into this.

When I was younger, the manipulative age of twelve. A man, Blake, came up to me and asked if I wanted to make some money. As a kid, I didn't see the harm in doing so. He gave me little jobs to do, like stealing things from the mall. It was an easy job. After school, I would go to the mall and slip some fake jewelry into the sleeves of my jacket, then walk out without anyone noticing. Because no one expects a child to do anything like that. Then I would hand over what I could steal and he would pawn them off, saying that it was real. This went on for three years, right up until I was fifteen. During that time I got better at doing stuff, and soon he was taking me with him to full scale heists. He taught me how to fight hand to hand, with a knife, how to sweet talk men into doing what I wanted, and how to not be afraid. I grew up though, and I realized that was I was doing was wrong, and I ran away. I forced my mother to move, telling her that I was being bullied by the kids at school. I hadn't heard from Blake since then.

"Let's just say Blake didn't want me helping out in any way." He muttered as he ran a hand through his thick hair.

"I thought the next in line would take over from Blake?"

I looked at me, eyes deep and haunting. "Max…They're all dead." My breath left me in an instant. I didn't know whether to rejoice in happiness or to cry. Blake wasn't truly a bad guy, not in the years I had known him.

"How do you fit into all of this then?" My voice betrayed my wariness to him.

"Because I'm his son." My body went frigid, throat suddenly becoming dry. How did I not recognize the similarities in his looks before?

"Wait, wait. How come I've never seen you before until now? And why did you have to kidnap me? How did you even do that? I was drinking hot chocolate!" He groaned in frustration and cradled his hand in his hands.

"Why does it matter that you were drinking hot chocolate, Max?"

"Because it was a freaking delicious, that's why." I could still taste the cocoa on my lips. "Okay, so why do you need my help?"

"Because I need to keep what my father had going."

"Why?"

"He owed a lot of money to people, and if it isn't paid, things are going to hell." He leant across me and started untying the rope from my wrists. When he finished I sat up cross legged, rubbing the red marks they had left on my skin.

"Where do I fit into all of this?"

"Because I want you to be my second in command." He smirked at me, which was one of the sexiest things I had ever seen. "Blake talked highly of you, he said you had so much potential and he missed you when you disappeared all of a sudden. He kept tabs on you, you know?" My eyebrows shot up in surprised. I guess moving hadn't kept me safe from harm. As if knowing that I realized this he continued, "He didn't want to push you, because somehow, he knew that you were going to be back in one way or another."

"So what's your plan on getting the money?"

"I'm going at it on a completely different angle. No more gun and run heists, those days are gone. It's about time we became one with technology and its ways." A grin found its way to his lips and I felt mine start to pull up into a smile.

"So are you saying that we're going to hack?"

The shine in his eyes was almost blinding. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

This is a whole new different type of story that I've never tried before. I hope you guys enjoy the first chapter. RnR!