Page 20 of The Revenge Agenda

H,

Thank you for being clear. Firstly, I didn’t actually realize the time, but I’m awake and you’re awake, so does it really matter? Second, when I got home in your coat, my roommate, Xander, stole it. He probably didn’t think I’d ever see you again, to be fair, and I thought the same. Plus, your coat smelled really good. Though, I suppose that was just you, because when you held me up against the wall tonight, you smelled the same way. So because you smelled good, he stole it, and I assume he’s been jerking off in it, because why else would he steal it, and also he’s a virgin who’s always horny, but can’t get over his medical anxiety to actually find someone he wants to sleep with. I assumed he slept with Seven, but they both claim they never have. If I’d known you were going to be my boss, I would have made sure when Xander stole it that I stole it right back. But I will now.

And I’ll make sure it’s clean.

Rush

Rush,

It’s too late for this conversation.

H

I stare down at the email, debating whether I’m supposed to ask when a more appropriate time is or if that’s him putting an end to the conversation. It’s so frustrating when people aren’t clear.

To stop myself from spending another hour obsessing, I toss my phone on my bed and head down the hall toward Madden’s bedroom. It’s dark inside, but when I push the door open and knock on the wood, he lets out a deep grunt.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

“Wasn’t.” The light flicks on suddenly, and I blink at the brightness shining my way from his phone.

“Ouch.”

“So sorry to hurt your poor eyes at one in the morning when you’re sneaking into my room.”

I throw myself onto the side of his bed and mutter, “What’s with everyone being so obsessed with the time tonight?”

“This morning.”

“Good point.”

Madden’s bed is one of the comfiest in the house. I love lying here, love that it feels familiar and smells nice, and his sheets are some kind of billion thread count that feel amazing on my skin, but I’d always be too worried about sliding off if I slept in here.

“You came in here for a reason,” Madden says.

“Did I?” I suppose I must have since it makes logical sense. From his sheets, to the door, to my room, to my phone … “Ah. Hunter is quitting.”

“The Hunter?”

“The Hunter who is now my boss Hunter who was previously the Other Guy Hunter, yes.”

“Why does that have you up and stressy?”

“I’m not stressy.”

Madden nudges me with his foot. “You’re still. That means you’re stressy.”

Huh. He’s right. “So what do I do?”

“About?”

“The Hunter quitting.”

“Why do you care if he quits?”

While I know from the outside that Hunter leaving sounds like a win for me, it really isn’t. Sure, it’ll be nice to keep my job and my home and my friends, but logically, there’s no reason for him to go, and it’s one of those things my brain has latched onto and is convinced it’s stupid—because it is, objectively, really stupid—and now I can’t let it go.

“I emailed him a list.”

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