How mental was that? I still couldn’t wrap my head around it.
I stepped into the lift, hitting the button for the barracks.
When the doors opened on Basement Floor 1C, I came face-to-face with Jake.
“Howdy, matey,” he greeted me, offering his fist to bump.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, bumping my fist to his.
Behind him were some of my fellow recruits, giving me the eye. Particularly Dirk, who I suspected was always holding back. I wanted to confront him, ask him if he wanted to say something to my face from all the staring he did with those mean, watery brown eyes.
Dickhead.
“Helping you move,” Jake answered. “Khloe thinks it’s best for you to return to the mansion.”
“What? Why? I haven’t heard from her.”
“She said she tried calling.”
I fished out my phone, seeing ten missed calls from my boss, along with five from Mum.
“Bollocks,” I grumbled. I’d knocked my phone into silent mode by mistake. “Where is she now?”
“Meeting Room Five. Sent me to get you.” He gave me a sympathetic smile. “Sorry. I know your whole experience is being taken away from you. Barracks living can be fun with the right people.”
I glanced at Dirk and his minions gathered around a watercooler. His lips twitched into a smirk, a woman whispering something to him.
“But, well…” Jake rubbed the back of his neck, releasing a long sigh. “It’ll only get complicated if you stay here.”
“I want to speak to her,” I said, trying to avoid looking in Dirk’s direction.
Always best to avoid him. The barracks were huge, divided into individual rooms to give agents personal space. Mine was at this end of the network of blue-and-white corridors, Dirk’s on the opposite side. Our paths didn’t have to cross.
Only, the dickhead seemed to have other ideas, always appearing to give me his best stares.
Maybe it would be better to leave.
“Can I speak to her?” I asked, Dirk chuckling, whispering, apparently twelve years old again.
We’d been friends at the witchcop academy, playing football every Sunday, hitting the bars in the student quarter in the center of Coldharbour or cheap beers and shots. Until Ben came along.
Suddenly, Dirk hated me. Blocked me, cut me off as if our friendship meant nothing. I neverunderstood it until Ben uploaded a sex tape they’d made in a hotel room.
Man, what a messy time. It hurt because all Ben did was lambaste my sexual performance and seeing him fuck Dirk cut deep. Really made me feel worthless in many different ways. He broke my heart, humiliating me in the process. Well, the final nail of humiliation after a relationship of putdowns and feeling inadequate because I couldn’t keep him dripping in designer crap.
The bastard had messed me up good.
It took me two years to get into a better place with it. Ben moved on, a celebrity now after the sex tape, and a big reality TV star. I didn’t care, as long as my name stayed out of his mouth, which it did.
Dirk got dumped when fame came calling. He’d worn a mask in the tape, so he got left behind. Good. I only hoped the hurt lasted a long time.
Jake glanced over his shoulder as he answered my question. “You can. I’ll go with you.”
“Let me grab my stuff,” I said.
The moment I opened the door to my room, Dirk made a move.
“What’s up, Ollie?” he asked, scratching at the shitty brown beard on his pale, slightly reddish face.
