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SAFFRON
"Okay,what gives? You’re mad and justifiably so. But you’re mad for more reasons than I can pinpoint. What's going on?"
I was marching down the hallway toward the elevator that would take me to my residence. My grandfather's house was one of those massive country estates like you saw on Downton Abbey or other period dramas.
To the outside world, that's what it looked like. Of course, it had been modernized over the years. There were several guest bungalows dotting the property, each with three bedrooms. They weren't overly big, but they were comfortable, and they housed our max number of trainees. Once trainees made it to full agents, some stayed here on property, moving into the main house, ten agents at a time if they chose to stay there. Most chose to go back to their lives until they were called in for missions.
Tabs was a hybrid. She liked to stay on the property the night before missions. She said it helped her get her mind in the game. The trainers also stayed on the property. There were ten trainers, each with their specialties. I had assisted all of them at one time or another, but I’d never had to train on my own. I usually helped out with evaluations, assessments for mission readiness, etc., but all I'd ever wanted was to be a Rogues agent. Just like my parents, my grandfather, and my great-grandfather before him. Gabe knew that, but he always said no, stating that I wasn't ready. While we were Rogues Division, there were other black site organizations that handled the weightier things that diplomacy and politics couldn't solve. We all answered to Oversight. My great-grandfather had been one of the founders of Oversight, eventually leaving to start Rogues Division. It was in my blood. After all, I was what everyone like to call the heir, but Gabe handled the day-to-day management of Rogues Division.
Hell, I was only twenty-two. And I knew he was trying to groom me and prep me to follow through with my legacy. Except no one bothered to stop and ask me how I felt about my legacy or what I wanted from it. No one asked if I wanted to be seen as me, Saffron Abott, more than just the heir. No one ever saw me as that. Every one either looked at me as Gabe's little sister, Saff, the heir, or the not-quite agent.
I was pretty sure some of the trainers thought I didn't have what it took to cut it. Which was bullshit. I’d been stuck in my own head for so long I didn't realize that Tabs wasn't following me. When I realized her usual chattering next to me was dead silent, I stopped and turned to find her back closer to Gabe's office with her arms crossed. "What are you doing?"
“I'm not taking another step until you tell me what the fuck is going on."
I sighed. “I'm sorry. Gabe had no right to tear into you last night."
Her brows furrowed and she rolled her eyes. "Are you kidding me? I don’t give a fuck about Gabe. He can feel free to kiss my barely brown arse."
“It's not brown right now."
She laughed. "Okay, I haven't had any sun today. Besides, I had to pale out for the last assignment. He was a notorious racist, and I needed to get close, so I played it very Italian." She rolled her eyes. "Arsewipe. I hated that assignment."
“You got them though, right?"
She grinned. "Oh yeah, we got them. Weapons charges, the whole thing. We shut down his operation. It was so satisfying."
“God, I want that level of satisfaction."
"Well, you can have it. It's called sex."
I frowned and then turned on my heel and started back toward the elevator.
"Hey, I was joking,” she called out. “What's wrong with you?"
"Sorry, I can't think about sex right now."
“You're still lustingafter that bloke in the club?"
A flush crept up my neck. I was certain she couldn't see it, but I could feel it as I started to sweat right under my bra strap.
“Yeah, about that… funny story."
Tabs was all ears as she grabbed my arm. "Oh my God, did he find you? Did he text you?"
"How is he going to find me? I left him nothing."
“I don't know. The way that guy was obsessed over you, maybe he asked the bartender for your credit card information and tracked you from there. It's very hot."
"Um, that's very stalkery."
She waved a hand. "You aren’t reading enough romance novels. That's how it works."
“That’s not what I'm dealing with."
"So what's up?"
"That guy, he's here."
