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He scowled at me and then pointed at Gabe. "You fucking twat."
Gabe shrugged. "I know, I get that a lot."
"Why am I here? When my father finds out—"
"That's the thing,” I interrupted. “Your father is not going to find out. Right now, your father is running for his life. And what's interesting is he didn't think to take you with him or to give you access to any of the backups that he has. He left you hanging out to dry, holding the bag as it were."
"Whatever he's involved in has nothing to do with me."
Gabe shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. The point is, you're going to stay here until we sort it all out. It could be a matter of days or weeks. We'll figure it out."
"You can't keep me here. It's illegal," he spat as he approached the glass.
"Actually, I can.”
Tate’s gaze ping-ponged between Gabe and I. “I know who you are. You’re Rogues Division. I thought you lot were a myth.”
How the hell did he know that? Gabe was cool though. Said nothing.
Tate continued. “I used to eavesdrop on my father’s secret meetings during parties. Him and Goode used to talk about a black box underground team that he oversaw. That’s you, isn’t it?”
Again, Gabe gave nothing away. “Did you know your father is a terrorist? He's also a trafficker, all kinds of nasty stuff. And you, well… You're just as much a piece of shit as he is."
"I'm not. I would never hurt a wo—"
I stepped forward and crossed my arms. "Go ahead and finish that sentence. I dare you."
"So, you didn't attack Tabatha in the limo?" Gabe asked, talking over me.
"It wasn't an attack. You're just a fucking cock tease. You and I needed to have a serious conversation."
"Spy, open this fucking door and walk away for just ten minutes."
Gabe shook his head. "No, we have interrogators for that."
"Who said anything about interrogating the twat?"
Tate stared at me. "Did you ever care about me?"
I chuckled low. "No. You were a job. I hoped that maybe we were wrong about you. That the man who was so eager about art wasn't a complete piece of shit. And at first you seemed to stick up for me to your father, but then you showed your true colors. You're just as much of a twat-face as he is."
He frowned at my usage of the word twat-face. Maybe he just hadn't heard it in a full sentence before. "You were always a cunt."
"Ah, there we go. I was wondering when we'd get to that term of endearment."
"I felt bad for you."
"Oh, really? This is going to be grand. By all means do tell me how bad you felt for me."
"My father was right believing you're a social-climbing whore."
Gabe pressed the button just on the left of the door and suddenly, Jennings jumped back. I turned to Gabe. "What did you do to him?"
"I may or may not have lit the floor up just a little bit."
I frowned. "You electrocuted him?"
"To be fair, he called you a not-nice thing. I didn't like it."
