Chapter 6
“That's a tracker,” Carter grumbles through the video chat with a sneer.
No shit, Sherlock.
He's always so lovely to talk to. But as my correspondent and the only man on earth I trust with technology—trust should be used loosely—I had to call him at five in the morning to get his opinion.
“Tell me again how you found a tracker in your jeans?”
I run a hand down my face, sitting on the edge of my hotel bed. The tracker in question is fully submerged in a glass of water at my bedside. Hopefully broken.
The psycho from the bar.
He said he wanted to come home with me and stay. I guess he meant it.
“I plead the fifth.” No way in hell am I telling that asshole how I ended up fucking a stranger in the bathroom while he was on the hunt for his missing sister.
“You hooked up with some fucking rando at a club or bar, didn't you?” That little weasel. How in the hell does he know?
“That doesn't matter.”
“Obviously it fucking does, Olivia,” he snorts, rubbing his temple.
“Fine. I hooked up with some rando at the bar, and he put a tracker on me for some reason.” Because why wouldn’t he? That’s all I seem to attract these days. Psychos.
Ugh.
“Fucking shit,” he growls. “Just send it to me. I'll take a fucking look at it and see if I can find out who owns it.”
I've known Carter for almost two years now.
Ever since my first case out in the field, where I went undercover as a girl named Espie and infiltrated East Point Prep.
Talk about an experience for my very first step into what the underbelly of the evil world had to offer.
And boy, was that place crawling with evil.
Teachers taking advantage of their students.
An evil cult taking students and using their deaths for money. The list goes on.
Carter was smart back then. Like ‘owns his own company in his senior year of high school’ smart.
And now? The man is a damn genius. Grumpy as fuck, but smarter than anyone I know.
That’s why my uncle is so damn interested in bringing him into Veritas and making him an agent.
Carter can track anyone. Hack into anything he sets his sights on.
Although, I keep that tidbit to myself, because of legalities and all that jazz.
So far, Carter has only agreed to help me on the side without Jonathan's knowledge.
“You're such a peach so early in the morning,” I quip, shaking my head. “I'll send it today.”
“You on another case?” He narrows his eyes at me through the video call.
“Until you have full clearance, you know I can't tell you.” I stick my tongue out at him, earning a huff.
“Yeah fucking right,” he grunts. “That'll never happen. I've got too much shit on my plate.”
Right. He's running his company from a small home office while the rest of his brother-husbands or boyfriend-in-laws or whatever he calls them attend college.
His main focus is his girlfriend, Kaycee.
I don't understand how she or any of them put up with his grumpy ass. But somehow they do. It’s a mystery to me. But whatever. Who am I to judge?
One day, I know he'll join the dark side with me. He's already done so much for me since he agreed to take my calls and help.
After hanging up, I lie back on my bed and close my eyes. There's so much about this town that has my heart in my throat.
But for now, I need to rest before Jonathan confronts me with the rest of my mission.
I groan, covering my face with my hands as the sun peeks through the curtains. Without opening my eyes, I can tell it’s high in the sky. But damn. Everything hurts. And I might be dying.
It’s been hours since I took my last sip at the bar, and I neglected to drink any water before calling Carter and lying down.
I’m never drinking again.
Okay, that's a lie. A big, fat lie.
Alcohol is my vice of choice. The crutch that guides me through the darkness I'm stumbling through every day. Along with my job, it keeps my mind off my past.
Well, until now.
I flinch when something wet drips on my forehead again and again. I swipe at whatever is touching my head.
“You need to wakey wakey, Livy Poo!”
My eyes fly open at the sound of my Veritas’ partner, Jordy’s voice. He grins above me with disheveled blond hair and sparkling light eyes. Then I see the water slowly dripping from the water bottle clutched in his hand.
“What the fuck?” I hiss, shoving his face away and sitting up. “Water, Jordan? Really mature,” I huff, shaking my head.
“No one said I was mature,” he giggles hysterically.
“Never said you were, you overgrown child.” I pout, wiping the water from my face.
“Aw, Livy. You love me so much.”
“That's a lie, and you know it. More like barely tolerate you because I have to!”
Once upon a time, when I joined Veritas, Agent Six, aka Jordan Van Horn, was assigned as my partner.
We roomed together in a bunker deep in the ground.
Where we lived, ate, and breathed training day in and day out.
Living there was like being in college for spying.
Going to class. Whether it was combat training, marksmanship, or psychology courses to better learn the human mind.
We did it all. Together.
Jordy was my accountability person. My roommate. My goddamn pest. But also, my best friend. My brother. Someone I could trust with my life. I love him with all my heart, but that’s the extent of our lives together.
“Barely tolerate? You wound me. Deeply,” he quips, holding a hand over his heart.
“Wait. What are you doing here?” I ask, looking around the barren hotel room.
When I snuck back in last night after the bar, using the access key, everything seemed normal.
The light from Jonathan’s room seeped from beneath his door, and the sound of his fingers clicking away at his keyboard rang through the hotel room.
I was glad he wasn’t out and waiting for me when I came back.
But now, I know why.
He intended to leave me the second I closed my eyes. I feel it in my bones. He’s gone and has sent Jordy in his place. Maybe because I like Jordy better at the moment.
Jordy gives me a megawatt smile. “Jonathan said you might need some help today. Uh... coping with you know… your newest assignment.” He cringes, nervously waving his hands around without making eye contact.
“Great. So, you know what I'm getting ready to do.” My shoulders slump, and my eyes squeeze shut. I’m one day closer to my new destiny.
It feels like I'm in some sort of weird reality. Tomorrow, I won't be Olivia. I'll be Oliver. A headache forms in my skull, and I know I'm about to have the longest day of my life with only a few hours of sleep.
If Jordy is here, that means Jonathan has brought reinforcements to prepare me for my mission.
“Exactly.” Jordy grins, snapping his fingers. “That's why I'm here. I mean, I am the perfect male specimen to help you become… well, me.”
I groan, tossing a pillow at his face. “You're not the perfect male specimen.” Cocky dick.
“Pfft. Am so. Why else would I be here to help you into your new wardrobe and cut your hair?” He wiggles his brows playfully and then stops at the look on my face. My fingers weave through my long strands. “Livy, I know what it means to you.” Yes. He does know.
He's probably the only person on the planet who's broken me open and seen the ugly underneath. All my scars. My nightmares. Everything I can’t say aloud.
Jordy may be my pest, like a little brother who pokes at the bear too often and way too hard, but he's been my best friend for years.
Others in our division at Veritas thought we were rolling around in the hay and getting frisky.
But that's never been us. He's my family.
The only family since my world burned to ash.
The only person besides Jonathan I grew to trust.
“I told you not to call me that.” Because he called me that. Livy. All through our time together. Now, the nickname brings nothing but rage through my veins.
My eyes refuse to focus on anything else but the window illuminated by the sun. Its rays bounce through the glass, lighting up the room with its good morning.
The bed dips beside me, and Jordy sighs, putting an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close.
“This is why I'm here. He said you disappeared yesterday afternoon into the late night and…” He sniffs my hair, recoiling from me with his mouth open. “Holy shit. You disappeared to get laid!”
I frown, pushing him over. He cackles, holding his stomach.
“Wait until the others hear about this. Oh my God, Liv!”
“Go home!” I hiss, shoving him completely off the bed until he lands with an umph.
“Can't,” he wheezes, staring up at the ceiling with a grin. “Was it good? The dick? Wait, I don't really want to know.” He wrinkles his nose in disgust.
The best ever. I don't think I've had an orgasm like that since… Well, never. Too bad Malic was a certified stalker who put a tracking device on me.
“No. We're not discussing this.” I frown, sniffing myself and blanching. Yeah. It's the smell of sex, booze, and terrible fucking decisions. “I'm going to take a shower. Then we can do… Whatever it is you're doing here.”
I stand, making my way to the bathroom, but Jordy’s voice halts my retreat.
“I'm here to help you become your newest assignment. That's all.” He sounds so earnest and quiet. Like he knows exactly what's going through my mind.
“And what is your case?” I ask, peeking over my shoulder.
His lips purse. “Some art thief, thirty minutes from here in the big city. After I escort you to your living quarters, I'll be on my way.” He shrugs, turning to his side and propping himself up on his elbow. “I'll be close if you need me. I'm just a phone call away.”
“Always?” I ask, raising my brow.
“You know it.” He nods. “Now, go get naked and clean the sex from your body. You repulse me.” He fakes shivers and laughs when I flip him off.
See? Like a damn annoying brother.