WILLOW
When we finally landed, I grabbed my bags and started walking toward the car, ignoring the looks I was getting for the four damn bags.
I loaded them in the trunk and started to walk around to the driver’s side door without realizing that Grey was walking up behind me.
When I noticed, I turned around to ask him why the hell he was so close.
Before I could open my mouth, he took the keys out of my hand, opened the door, and got in.
I stood there in shock for a moment, processing what had just happened. Keeping my shit together the best I could, I walked to the passenger side, got in, and slammed the door shut.
“You could’ve used your words and asked if you could drive. I would’ve given you the keys,” I said in a restrained voice. I tried my hardest to keep my temper in check since it was the first day of the job. His only response was a grunt.
Grey pulled up to the slightly run-down house that I was staying at and opened his door to get out.
Usually, Kaiser stayed in the same place as me, so I always booked a two-bedroom to give us our own space.
I figured Grey would want to be as far away from me as possible, so I was surprised when he started to get his bags out of the back as I grabbed mine.
I didn’t say anything, though. Why waste the energy to try to have a civilized conversation with that dick? He was lucky he’s nice to look at.
I ignored him as I unlocked the door and headed to my room, not saying a word. I had no idea why he hated me, but I refused to beg for people to like me.
The house was a small two-bedroom, one-bath cottage. It only had the essential furniture and appliances; I don’t need much, and I like to keep a low profile while I travel.
I didn’t know what he did for the hour it took me to put down my bags and take a shower, and I didn’t care to ask.
I had the house stocked with groceries the day before, when I was supposed to arrive.
The caretaker of the property put them away, so after my shower, I went to the kitchen to start on dinner.
I decided not to be the petty person that I wanted to be and made enough for both of us.
If he decided to be an asshole and not eat it, he’d better save the leftovers and not just throw them away.
After I prepped everything and started the chicken in the pan, he decided to come out of his room. He looked at me like he was surprised to see me, but I pretended not to notice. He walked to the fridge and started to look through it.
“Food will be done in twenty, if you want some. If not, there should be some stuff in the freezer you can heat up in the microwave,” I told him while staring intently at the chicken in the pan.
I didn’t want to start an argument. I was too fucking tired for that.
After not taking jobs out of the country for a while, jet lag was kicking my ass.
After a minute of him not responding, I assumed he was still pulling his bullshit of not talking to me. I continued to cook, and jumped when he said, or I should say, grunted, “Sure.” I took it as a good sign—not that we were going to be besties or anything, but that he may treat me like a person.
He stood on the other side of the kitchen and watched me cook.
I wasn’t sure if it was because he questioned my cooking abilities or just making sure I didn’t poison the food.
It made me nervous. Having all of his attention on me made my skin pull taut.
My cheeks heated up, but I blamed that on the heat from the stove, not the annoyingly sexy guy staring at me.
I tried to pretend that he wasn’t there and finished dinner.
I got two plates and loaded food up on both.
His ended up being three times the size of mine.
I handed it to him without making eye contact and walked to the sitting room.
After I set my plate down on the coffee table in front of the couch, I went to my room to grab my notebook and laptop so I could work while I ate.
When I came back, he was sitting on the other end of the couch. I must have had a confused look on my face because when he looked up at me, he shrugged and started eating. He took a bite and gave another grunt as he chewed. “This is pretty good,” he mumbled between bites.
I gave him a quick “thanks” and started to lay out all of my research. By the time everything was where I could get it, he only had a few bites left on his plate, and I hadn’t touched mine yet, needing everything perfect before I started eating.
I grabbed my plate to take a bite of food while my computer hummed to life.
Once it was on, I brought up the pictures and backgrounds of who I needed and laid my notes for my targets on my lap, holding my plate in one hand.
I studied everything, memorizing the entirety of the targets’ profiles, repeating critical information over and over until it was engrained into my memory.
“Why did you make dinner if you were planning on working and only taking two bites?”
I looked over to see him holding his empty plate and glaring at me.
I put down the plate and crossed my legs, tucking my feet under me on the couch and turned to face him, showing him that he had my full attention.
“Are you going to be like this for the entire job? Or just when we eat? I get it, you don’t want to be here.
I also know that I’d rather have had anyone else come with me.
I’m not asking you for help. Or to do anything, for that matter.
My dad just wants someone in the same country as me.
If I’ve done something to personally offend you, just man the fuck up and say it to my face instead of acting like a little bitch about it!
” I was so calm and collected during the first half of my speech, but I slowly lost the temper that I was trying to hold back in the end.
Oh well, I tried.
He looked at me with eyebrows raised in surprise, before falling back into an annoyed scowl.
I studied his face, wondering if he moisturized, because with how much he frowned, he surprisingly didn’t have very many wrinkles for his age.
I mean, I was guessing the age, since I’d never asked.
Maybe next time, we’d have a heart-to-heart since he was so sensitive.
I chuckled at my own joke. His jaw ticked. Yup, definitely annoyed.
I turned back to my food, grabbed my notes and my plate, and picked up where I left off. I’d always been a slow eater, and sometimes get too distracted and forget to eat, but that was none of his business.
“You should eat more. You’re, at most, a hundred pounds soaking wet. If you’re going to be working tomorrow, you need energy,” he said in a quiet tone after I took a bite. He stood up while I chewed and he walked towards the kitchen to clean his plate.
When he passed me to get to his room, he tossed, “Thanks for dinner,” over his shoulder before shutting the door to his room. I sat there shocked at his ability to switch from making asshole comments to, what some could call, being polite.
Well, I guess that was a sign that we could be civil. So, I’d take it as a win.
It’s been over a week since we landed in Columbia, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to give Dad a list of “approved spotters.” I don’t care if people gave him shit about not liking me; it’s not worth it after spending ten days with this asshole, also known as Grey.
After that first night, we’ve become a little more comfortable around each other. I’ll say something, he responds, sometimes even civilly, and vice-versa. Like we are almost fully functioning adults or something.
What I hate, though, is that he’s fucking everywhere. Usually, my spotters would wait at the house while I went out to do whatever I needed to do. Grey takes the car keys every time I try to leave.
This job has a lot of moving parts. My plan was to try to work my way into the household where they were keeping the girl.
Under the cover of normalcy, I’d get her out with as few casualties as possible.
That meant I had to do some undercover work on certain days.
I practically have to force Grey to stay in the car and wait because he refuses to stay at the fucking house. It’s exhausting.
During my evening ritual of working with a plate of half-eaten food, Grey asks, “Why do you research every night? I think you’ve read the same files every night since we got here.” I turn my head and see that he’s peering at my computer screen.
“Going in on my own means I have to understand every moving part. I try to build a loose plan before I start a job, then adjust it as I go. Everything I learn while I’m undercover changes the details in their profiles, because once I see things for myself, I finally understand the ‘why’ and ‘how’ behind what they do.
It’s like fitting another piece into the puzzle.
I want to double check that I have all the moving parts right before I go in and get her tomorrow.
What you can’t see in this image is that there’s a camera here.
” I point to the screen. “And that the security’s more tight here.
My goal is to only take out as many people as I absolutely have to: less blood on the ground, less opportunities for someone to sound the alarm.
And in turn, results in less panic, and an easier way to get her out without having to fight my way out.
Fighting my way out with a defenseless girl could result in a dead target.
” I continue to ramble on between taking bites of food and adding some notes to the profiles.
He doesn’t say anything, and I’m a little worried that we’re heading back to the grunt replies that we started the week with. But when I turn my head to look over at him, he stares at me like he’s never seen me before.