The effing judge had viewed it differently. “A young man with every advantage who exploited his intelligence, the high tech computer network gifted to him by doting parents, and wreaked havoc on the courts while causing untold grief to victims of sexual abuse and gang violence, while exposing them to new threats and harassment.”

It was true, he hadn’t understood the ramifications of what he had done…his victim was supposed to be the government. The Honorable—God, that title made him sick—Harry Owen had made sure that the judge knew exactly how terrible Aiden’s crime had been. And the judge came down as hard on him as he could within the confines of the law.

This time Aiden would get it right. He would show the hypocrisy of the government, the lies perpetrated in the name of ‘public safety’. The citizens of this fair country had no idea what was going on in Harry’s department. Or what was going on in Harry’s bedroom.

Public safety. What a joke. He squeezed another line of ketchup onto his French fry, imagining he was squeezing Harry’s throat. “You really screwed yourself big time, Harry. Didn’t anyone warn you that you could be blackmailed for shit like that?”

“Talk to yourself much?” A girl slid into the seat opposite him.

He guessed she was an international student judging by her age and the backpack slung over her shoulder emblazoned with the logo of one of Halifax’s local universities. Her accent was impeccably Canadian. But her style was decidedly Asian-street: slouchy cropped grey sweater, tiny flared black mini skirt, and black over-the-knee socks that sported a cartoon kitty cat face outlined in white that appeared to peek above her knees. Her long, black hair had been casually curled below her shoulders. Thick bangs framed an exquisitely heart-shaped face.

He quickly lowered the screen of his laptop. “Do I know you?” Her timing couldn’t be worse. He was expecting Tr0lz any minute.

She raised a perfectly penciled brow. “I don’t know, AggroBoy…do you know me?” Her low, breathy voice mocked him.

Her large brown eyes challenged him to move past his assumptions, to get over his initial stumble. She crossed her arms, revealing a delicate tattoo in Asian script on one wrist.

“You’re Tr0lz.” His voice was low. He hoped his face didn’t show how stunned he was at the revelation that this cute, waif-like girl was his new partner in crime.

She grinned, her red lips revealing a set of strong-looking teeth. “Took you long enough, AggroBoy. I thought you were supposed to be the brains in this partnership.” Her gaze ran over him, as cool and oblique as a waterfall he had once walked through.

He straightened. “I am.” He felt desperately out of his league. It was an unwelcome and unfamiliar feeling.