The Unwanted Spy

by Scarlett Haven

  “You’re different than I thought you were going to be. When I learned a girl had been chosen to join our team, I worried that you’d be trying to seduce the guys.”

  My breath comes out in a huff. “Getting a boyfriend is the last thing on my mind.”

  That’s not exactly true. And he glances at me out of the side of his eye. I know he’s calling my bluff, but at least he has the decency not to say it out loud.

  “The job comes first to all of us. You might not be on our level, but I see that the job comes first to you, too. I appreciate that. Maybe you aren’t as bad as I thought you were,” he says.

  That is the best I’m going to get out of Weston Newman.

  In the future, maybe we can be friends. But I have to prove myself first, and I can respect that. Him burning this chair is his way of welcoming me to the team. It’s strange, and other people probably wouldn’t get it, but they don’t have to. This is about us. It’s about me being part of The Royals. I know that this welcome is temporary, but I am up for the challenge.

  “Maybe I have been a little sensitive.” I manage to choke out the words. I hate admitting that I’m not perfect, but that obviously isn’t getting me anywhere.

  He snorts. “Very sensitive. But I get it. We treated you like one of the guys. And you’re not a guy. You’re a chick. And girls are all sensitive.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” I say. “From now on, just treat me like one of the guys.”

  “It’s hard to do that. Your legs are really distracting.”

  I punch his arm.

  “Ow.” He rubs it.

  “Don’t talk about my body.”

  He just laughs. “Fine. You’ll be one of the guys. But maybe warn us when you’re on your period so we know to be nice to you.”

  I just shake my head at him.

  This is a weird kind of truce, but I realize that I’m going to be okay. Joining The Royals is harder than I thought it would be, but now that I know, I can handle it. I’m not going anywhere.

  I look back at the chair, watching the fire dance toward the sky. I really am going to miss that chair.

  Let it burn.

  Monday, September 18

  Pack a bag.

  It’s been a month since we burned that chair on the beach. I wish I could say that things have changed since then, but they really haven’t. The guys are still cold and distant with me, only now they are focused more on the business side of things.

  They push me more now during training, but I think that in their own way they’re helping me. Even though it’s frustrating to have four guys yelling at me, telling me what I’m doing wrong, I appreciate the gesture. I don’t think they’ve accepted me as part of the team just yet, but they have accepted that I’m not going anywhere.

  Out of them all, West is the most distant now. Even Alek and Kal hardly joke with me anymore. The three of them go out a few times a week, leaving Ian and me at home, but true to their word, none of them have brought home a girl.

  Ian... he doesn’t really talk to me anymore. He’s cordial on the nights we’re in the condo on our own, but he mostly just stares at his computer screen, probably trying to ignore the fact that I exist.

  For the most part, they still think of me as a burden to the team, and I can’t blame them. Most of the time I do feel like a burden. I wish things could be different, but until I get the opportunity to prove myself, this is the way it’s going to be.

  On that Monday morning, I wear a light blue sports bra and a matching top that I picked up over the weekend. I took one of the Jeeps out for a few hours, just to get away from the guys, and I did some shopping. It was nice. I even got a few new bathing suits to swim in, which is something I’ve had a lot of fun doing.

  Hardly anybody uses the pool at the condo, and the beach is usually empty. I take my Bluetooth speaker to the pool and I stream some music while I swim. It’s really relaxing. Since I’ve started, my legs have gotten noticeably stronger, and my biceps are getting muscles. I’ve even got the beginnings of a six pack, but that’s not from the swimming. That is from the intense training that I’ve been doing. I’ve always been thin from all the running and training, but now it’s more focused and I’m seeing nice results. Not that I’m doing it for the changes in my body—that is just an added bonus.

  I pull my hair up into a messy bun on top of my head and leave my room to meet the guys for our morning run. I’m ten minutes early, but I don’t like to be the last one ready, so I make a point to be extra early. Usually, Kal is the last one out of his room in the morning. But as I walk into the living room, I find Alek, Kal, and Ian crowded around West, who is holding his phone. I hear a voice come out of the speaker that sounds like Michael Sinclair, so I walk closer to hear what they’re talking about.

  Kal is standing there without a t-shirt on. I’ve seen him shirtless before, but usually only in the gym or at the pool. It’s weird to see him standing in the living room like this. But then I notice he’s also just wearing a pair of boxer briefs that do nothing to hide him. I avert my eyes, not wanting to look.

  Okay, that’s a lie. I do want to look. Who wouldn’t? But I know Kal. If he even thinks I looked he will tease me about it for the rest of eternity. His ego is big enough without me checking him out.

  I stand between Alek and Ian, trying not to stand next to the almost naked Kal. He notices, of course, and smirks at me.

  I roll my eyes in response.

  “Yes, sir,” West speaks. “We will be ready.”

  “I’m counting on you,” Michael Sinclair responds before the line goes dead.

  I look at West, wondering what is going on.

  “Everybody, pack a bag. We’re leaving.” West looks directly at me. “And Roxy, please hurry. We don’t have time for you to plan your girly outfits.”

  I huff, turning from him.

  Really? Did he have to say that?

  I run to my room, packing my bags as quickly as I possibly can. I fold faster than I have in my life. My toiletries are already packed, I keep a travel bag of them ready in case of an emergency. And I’m glad that I do. Maybe I should consider packing a bag as it is.

  I don’t know where we’re going, so I pack warm weather clothes. It’s still early enough in the year it shouldn’t be too cold wherever we’re going, but I do bring a jacket just in case. I zip up my suitcase and glance at the time.

  Five minutes.

  That is a record.

  But when I come out of my room, all the guys are waiting. West is glaring at me, like I held them up.

  Why can’t anything ever go my way for once? Even Kal had time to get dressed and brush his hair in the time it took me to pack—which wasn’t that long, to be fair.

  “Princess is ready, we can go now,” West says.

  I clench my fist, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it.

  I am not going to punch West, no matter how much he deserves it. I am going to ignore his taunts. And I am definitely not going to let him see just how much he can get under my skin. Because West can get under my skin like nobody else.

  “Where are we going?” Ian asks, as we follow West toward the elevators.

  I walk faster to be closer. I want to know as well.

  “I’ll debrief everybody on the plane,” West says. “For now, let’s just get moving.”

  At least West isn’t just broody with me. He’s like that with all the guys. Though, he does use a nicer tone with Ian.

  The elevator doors open and the five of us cram inside with our luggage. I notice Kal’s suitcase is stuffed so full it’s nearly bursting at the seams, and Ian has two suitcases, though I’m guessing one is full of gear he thinks is important to bring.

  When we get to the Jeep, West packs all the suitcases into one vehicle. I have no idea how we’re all going to fit into one car, but I don’t question it. Instead, I take a moment to glance behind me. I catch a glimpse of the water between buildings. The sun is just starting to rise, casting an orange gl
ow on the sky.

  I’m going to miss this place.

  “Get in, Princess.”

  I look over at West. He has the back door of the Jeep open. Alek and Kal climb into the front and Ian gets in the back.

  I groan as I realize I’ll be right between West and Ian.

  “Why do I have to be in the middle?” I complain.

  “Because you’re the smallest.” West motions me to get in. “Less whining, more moving. We’re on a time crunch.”

  That does get me moving. I’m not thrilled about our seating arrangements, but if Michael Sinclair asked us to do something, then it’s important.

  I slide in next to Ian, thinking it won’t be so bad. Then West gets in. I find myself shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, with both Ian and West. I attempt to make myself smaller, but it doesn’t help.

  Great...

  West, who is crammed against the door, puts his arm behind my head trying to get more room. I can’t even bring myself to complain about it because he is crammed back here. We all are.

  “We should’ve taken two vehicles,” Ian says.

  He never complains about anything.

  Well, that’s not true. One time the internet went down for ten minutes and I thought he was going to start throwing things. But other than that, he never complains about anything.

  I’ll never forget Ian harassing the IT guys who came to fix it and then eventually just taking over the whole thing and fixing it himself.

  “I’m pretty comfy,” Kal says.

  I roll my eyes, wishing I had something to throw at him. Of course, he’s comfortable in the front seat.

  “Roxy, you can always come sit on my lap,” Kal offers.

  Good grief.

  “I’d rather sit on a cactus,” I mumble.

  West and Ian both laugh.

  Kal turns in his seat to face me. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing.” I wave a hand because it’s not important. But at least I got a laugh out of West and Ian.

  Maybe this mission will be a good thing. It’s exactly what I need to prove myself to the team.

  The rundown.

  The jet we board is different than the one we took from Switzerland to Florida, but it’s pretty similar. It’s a little bit smaller—there is no getting away from my teammates for a bit on this flight. We’re all stuck facing one another. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Kal keeps winking at me and Ian is going out of his way to avoid looking at me. I sit between Alek and West. I’m still stuck in the middle, but I’m not squished in this time, so it’s not so bad.

  Once we’re in the air, everybody unbuckles, getting comfortable for our flight. I have no idea how long this flight is going to be, but I don’t think it’s going to be a short one.

  “Where are we going?” Kal turns toward West for answers. The smirk is gone from his face and everybody is down to business.

  “Santorini,” West answers.

  “Greece?” Alek asks.

  West nods. “A Saudi prince was murdered by an assassin. The assassin was good—too good. Michael Sinclair suspects the assassin was trained at Spy School. The Saudi king is rightfully furious. He contacted Spy School for help. Michael Sinclair tracked down the assassin. Apparently, he fled to Santorini after his job was done. It’s our job to apprehend him so he can be questioned.”

  My heart races—an assassin trained by Spy School is going to be dangerous to track down. I’ve never done a mission this dangerous before. But this is the job. Michael Sinclair wouldn’t ask us to do it if it weren’t important.

  “He needs to be alive,” West tells us. “But Michael said that he’s not worth dying for. If he’s going to kill us, we have to kill him first. But we need to try and restrain him.”

  “I’m up for the challenge.” Alek sits up straighter, a smile on his face. “An assassin is no match for my skills.”

  I roll my eyes.

  West glances at me. “Roxy, I think you should hang back and observe on this mission. Let the men take care of it.”

  Let the men take care of it? Is he serious?

  I look at him to see any tells of joking, but there are none. He’s actually serious.

  “I’ll show you what a woman can do.” I narrow my eyes at him.

  Kal laughs. “I’d like to volunteer.”

  I turn to him. “What?”

  “When you show West what a woman can do. I volunteer.”

  I turn away from Kal, ignoring him as I realize he’s just making a dirty joke.

  “It’s not because you’re a girl,” West says. “It’s because you’re new to the team. The rest of us work well together. We don’t know how we’re going to work with you yet, and it’s a dangerous assignment for us to practice on.”

  He’s not wrong. I just wish he wouldn’t have worded it the way he did.

  When we got the call about this assignment, I was excited. I thought this was my opportunity to show the guys that I’m not as bad as they think I am. I want to prove my worth.

  I wish this plane weren’t so small. I wish I could go hide somewhere and have some alone time to think about what West said, but there is nowhere to go. I’m stuck with these four boys on what is going to be a very long flight.

  “Just how long is the flight to Santorini?” Ian asks the question that was on my mind.

  “Sixteen hours,” West answers.

  Great.

  I’m going to be stuck in this stupid airplane with these four guys, who hate me, for sixteen hours.

  “What do we know about the assassin?” Alek asks.

  For the next hour or so, we learn everything about the assassin that we can. His name is Nicholas Johnson. He’s a thirty-two-year-old from Melbourne, Australia. He was an incredible agent. His grades were just okay, but he was an excellent fighter and he excelled at shooting, especially sniping. He wanted to become an elite agent, but Michael Sinclair said he was too impulsive. He told him that if he could follow somebody else’s lead for a year and not rebel against authority that he would grant him elite status, but after only two weeks, Nicholas broke the rules. He begged for another chance, but Michael Sinclair knew he couldn’t trust the guy. A few weeks after that, Nicholas disappeared off the face of the planet and didn’t show back up until what happened in Saudi Arabia. He’s been working as an assassin, trying his best to keep off the radar.

  “So, why break his cover now?” I question. It doesn’t make sense. “Certainly, he knows that Michael Sinclair is going to send agents after him.”

  “Maybe that is what he wants.” West leans back, stretching out his legs. “Maybe he wants to fight against Spy School agents to somehow show Michael Sinclair that he is good enough.”

  Maybe.

  I still don’t like it though. It feels like a trap.

  “You don’t need to worry about it anyway, Princess.” West brings his hand down on the top of my head, patting it gently. “You are going to stay behind us and just watch what we do.”

  I don’t bother with a response as I push his hand away.

  I really hate the way these guys treat me. I need to prove to them that I can do this. I am strong enough. I’ve trained just as much as they have. So what if I haven’t trained with them for very long? I really think I can be an asset.

  West Newman is a pain in the butt. Why does he insist on having this pompous attitude toward me? Why does he always think I’m not good enough? He says it’s not because I’m a girl, but part of me thinks it is. Whoever he voted for was probably a guy. But when is he going to realize that I’m just as good as any guy at Spy School? Heck, I’m better. It’s why Michael Sinclair chose me—it’s why I’m here right now. But it seems that West will never see that.

  West leans over and whispers in my ear. “I can see that look of defiance in your eyes. You might think it’s a good idea to rebel, but I would advise against it.”

  I turn to him and give him my best innocent smile. “Why would I ever rebel against you, oh great one?”


  He narrows his eyes, getting up from his seat and going to the cockpit, probably to talk with the pilot. Of course he gets to escape while I’m stuck back here with the rest of the guys.

  Kal slips into the seat where West was sitting and he slides his arm behind me. “Don’t worry, Roxy. I’ll protect you from the big bad assassin.”

  “Like I need your protection.” I shake his arm off. “Or are you forgetting the smackdown I gave you on Friday?”

  Kal is easily distracted during training. In the field, I don’t believe he would be so easily taken down.

  “I let you win just so I could feel you hold me down.” He smirks.

  I get up from the seat and sit down where he was sitting next to Ian.

  Kal chuckles.

  I can’t even be mad. That’s just how Kal is. And he is the only one on the team who is semi-nice to me.

  Ian gets up from the seat next to me and sits down where I just was, between Alek and Kal.

  “Are we playing guitar seats?” Alek raises an eyebrow.

  Guitar seats?

  “Do you mean musical chairs?” Kal asks.

  “Yes, that.”

  Alek mostly acts American. Even though he has a thick Russian accent, I sometimes forget that he’s not from the US like the rest of us. Then he’ll say something like ‘guitar seats.’

  “Should I be offended that nobody wants to sit by me?” I ask.

  It’s not entirely true. Kal did sit by me. I just chose to move away from him. Ian is the one who couldn’t stand to sit beside me.

  “I’d rather look at you.” Alek relaxes back into his seat. “You’re like a prized painting that I could stare at all day.”

  That was... almost nice, especially coming from Alek.

  Ian huffs. “Am I the only one who listens to the rules?”

  “Rules?” I question, wondering what rule we are supposedly breaking.

  “They know.” Ian crosses his arms.

  I look at Kal for an answer.