Badass in Disguise Chapter 179

Connor stood in the living room of my apartment, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to another.

"I—I'm your idol," Connor blurted out, then immediately shook his head, his cheeks flushing red. "No, I mean, you're my idol. I've admired you for so long." His voice trembled with genuine excitement, like a fanboy meeting his favorite celebrity.

I gave a slight nod, my expression neutral. "I know. You're Q."

Connor's eyes widened even further, his face lighting up with the childlike delight of being recognized. The tension in his shoulders instantly vanished, replaced by barely contained excitement.

"You know me? How do you know? Yes, that's right. I'm Q." His words tumbled out in a rush, pride evident in his voice.

I studied him for a moment. "Your hacking skills," I said, turning to Ethan. "Did he learn from you?"

Connor nodded eagerly before Ethan could respond. "Everything I know about bypassing security systems, Mr. Haxton taught me. The foundation, at least. I've developed my own methods since then, but—"

"He was a quick study," Ethan interrupted, his voice cool and controlled.

I looked at Ethan with mild curiosity. "You seem to be unranked in the hacker world."

A slight smile tugged at the corner of Ethan's mouth, transforming his severe features into something almost boyish. "I didn't see the point before. But perhaps I could aim for second place now." His eyes locked with mine.

Connor's excitement couldn't be contained. He took a step forward, eyes bright with realization. "Did you—was it you who hacked my computer during the board meeting?"

"You deserved it," I confirmed without hesitation, remembering the satisfaction of watching his system crumble under my attack.

Connor's face crumpled into a mix of horror and embarrassment. His hands flew to his hair, gripping it as if reliving the moment. "Do you have any idea how devastated I was? A whole conference room of people, all my colleagues, watching that on the big screen... My reputation, my dignity..." He groaned dramatically. "I couldn't look anyone in the eye for weeks!"

I glanced at Ethan with a hint of amusement. "Did you see it too?"

"Forced to," Ethan replied dryly, though the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

"And?" I asked, my expression playfully provocative. "What did you think?"

Ethan avoided the question, his eyes briefly meeting mine before shifting away. "I only wanted to throw him out the window at that moment."

My gaze turned mischievous as I leaned forward slightly. "Was it that necessary? Never seen anything like it before?"

Connor's face reddened further, the blush spreading to his ears. "The second half wasn't even my fault! It was the Boss who—" He stopped abruptly, seeming to realize he was about to incriminate Ethan. His eyes darted nervously between us.

"Someone's trying to appeal his case," I observed, enjoying his discomfort.

Ethan shrugged, the expensive fabric of his suit shifting smoothly with the movement. "He deserved it. If your security is weak enough to get hacked, that's on you."

After Ethan and Connor left, my apartment felt oddly quiet. I sat on the couch, fingers absently tracing the bandage on my hand, when my phone rang. Zach's name flashed on the screen. His terse message—just a police station address and "need you"—sent me rushing downtown.

The station buzzed with activity when I arrived—phones ringing, officers shuffling papers, the acrid smell of old coffee hanging in the air. The fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow over everything, making even the youngest officers look tired. I was directed to the chief's office, where I found an unexpected familiar face alongside Zach.

"Sergeant Ford," I said.

The police chief looked between us, his weathered face displaying obvious confusion. His eyes widened slightly as he glanced at Zach then back to me.

"Wait, you're 'Boss'?" he asked, brows furrowing. "We just watched him make that call."

The chief leaned back in his chair, studying me with disbelief. "Thought we'd be meeting some... well, different kind of person."

He gestured vaguely with his hand. "And you two know each other?" he asked, looking between me and Sergeant Ford.

I took in the chief's uniform, noting the badge and the years of service pins. "You're the chief? What exactly has my friend done?"

My tone was cool and controlled, but with an edge that made the chief straighten in his chair. Before he could answer, Sergeant Ford stepped in, his demeanor shifting slightly.

"If he's with Jade, then there's no problem," Ford said, his usually stern voice softening just a fraction.

The chief's eyebrows shot up. He leaned toward Ford, lowering his voice to a whisper that I could still easily hear. "Aren't you usually by-the-book? Since when do you bend rules for friends?"

"She's with the Haxton family," Ford replied quietly.

Understanding dawned on the chief's face immediately, his expression morphing from confusion to cautious respect. The Haxton name carried serious weight in these parts—enough to make even a police chief reconsider his approach.

"I'll take him with me," I said firmly, "but I want to know what he's accused of."

Sergeant Ford cleared his throat, his posture relaxing slightly. "I was at the school looking for a missing student when I encountered him. We both assumed the worst about each other and... exchanged some blows."

"We thought each other was involved with the student's disappearance," Zach added, his face impassive but his eyes alert. "I only came along because he identified himself as police, and I didn't want to cause trouble for you, since we were at school."

"We were remarkably evenly matched," Ford continued, a hint of respect in his voice. "Not many can hold their own against me."

Ford turned to me, his professional mask slipping just enough to show genuine concern. "I apologize. I was just doing my job. So that unconscious student was your brother?"

I didn't respond to Ford's question, keeping my expression neutral. "Ready to go?" I asked Zach.

He nodded once, standing with fluid grace that belied his earlier fight.

"Since it was a misunderstanding, we'll be going now," I said to the chief, who simply nodded, clearly glad to have the situation resolved without paperwork.

In the car, I glanced at Zach's brooding expression as he stared out the window. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw.

"What's wrong? Lost the fight, feeling bad?" I asked, turning onto the main road.

"I didn't lose," Zach protested immediately, pride flaring in his voice. "I came voluntarily."

"What, never been to a police station before? Wanted the experience?" A hint of amusement colored my tone.

Zach didn't answer.

"I told you, you can treat this like Venezuela. Don't worry about causing me trouble." I could tell he was concerned about how his actions might reflect on me.

Zach changed the subject, his voice softening slightly. "How's your brother?"

"He's fine," I assured him.

"Was it Shadow Organization?"

"Just a warning. Nothing serious."

Zach fell silent for a moment, his reflection thoughtful in the window glass. "That guy—Sergeant Ford—he has old injuries. Without those, I couldn't have matched him."

I nodded slightly. So that explained it. Sergeant Ford was clearly more skilled than his current position would suggest.