Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
My difficulty adjusting to change and sensitivity to loud noises had my doctor and teachers believing that I’d never be able to fit in with my peers, and my inability to conform would make it difficult to form relationships with them.
They weren’t wrong.
I did have issues. Hell, I had a lot of them.
I didn’t know it. I didn’t really care. As far as I was concerned, I was as normal as the next guy, and for all intents and purposes, I had it pretty good.
I was freakishly smart. I could read about something one time and never forget it. And if I was interested in something, I’d spend hours researching everything I could find on it—almost obsessively so. I could also see things in a way that others couldn’t—which gave me an unexpected advantage whenever I had a problem to solve.
I was a hell of a gamer. I would play something over and over until I had it down pat and could beat anyone I came up against. It was that push to excel that got me interested in computer hacking. I already had some background knowledge of computer programming and a baseline vocabulary to draw on, so it wasn’t all that difficult. I used what I already knew and dove deeper. I spent hours on end learning everything there was on cybersecurity, networking, and scripting, and with Big’s help, I became damn good at it.
I also became good at listening to my mother. I know it sounds cheesy, but I trusted her. So, when she told me to watch and listen to the people around me, I watched and listened. Not because I wanted to. I didn’t. But I didn’t want to be the things my father had called me even more. It was that mindset that had me doing all kinds of things I didn’t want to do.
Eventually, I taught myself how to fit in.
I started interacting with others, and by hanging with the brothers, I even got good at it. Hell, a stranger would have no clue that I even had Asperger’s. My improvements weren’t the norm, but I did the work. I pushed myself to the limit time and time again, and it paid off.
I was no longer an outsider.
I was a Fury brother, and I was treated as such.
After several minutes of back and forth, Cotton turned to me with urgency in his eyes. “I need you and Big to find something... anything we can use to find these guys.”
“We’ll do our best, Prez.”
“I’m counting on you, son. We all are.”
“Won’t let you down, sir.”
Without saying anything more, I stood, and after I carried my plate over to the sink, I headed down the hall to the work room. There was a time when Big and I had our own spaces—each with our own specific equipment and software, but over time, we merged the two and created a computer center like none other. When I walked in, I wasn’t surprised that Big was already there and busy at work.
I went over to my desk, and as I sat down, I asked, “What are you working on?”
“I’m trying to locate all the security cameras between here and town and from town to the warehouse where they took Q and Rooster.” He leaned back in his chair with a huff. “I figured we could cross reference them between the city and the property owners—see if we can find any that don’t belong, but just when I think I’ve got them all, I come across another one.”
“Want me to give you a hand?”
“Yeah.” He grabbed the map from his desk and spread it across the table behind him, then said, “Here are the ones I’ve found and identified ownership on. Once we have them all, we can take a drive and see if we can find any others.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“I know.” There was no missing the frustration in his voice as he explained, “There’s something here. I feel it in my gut.”
“Then, we’ll keep at it until we find a connection.”
He nodded, and I walked over to my desk and got to work.
I was often distracted or felt off-center whenever I was trying to work alongside someone, but it was different with Big. He was my mentor. He taught me everything he knew and showed me how to use my love of computers to locate information in ways I never imagined.
We’d been at it for several hours when Big turned to me and asked, “Have you gotten to Lexington Street yet?”
“I’m still on Tate.” I could tell by his tone that something was up, so I stood and walked over to him. “Why? Did you find something?”
“I’m not sure.” He pulled up the surveillance feed from one of the cameras, then pointed to the screen as he said, “This is the view from the camera on Davenport’s car lot.”