Page 47 of The Deceptions
“It's Uncle, isn't it?” I give him a knowing smirk. Jonathan knows exactly what Jordy is like. Always dragging his feet and prolonging the inevitable. “I can’t believe you assigned him the siren ringtone.”
“Fucker is obsessed,” he moans with frustration. “Fine. I'm leaving. You know the rules.” His eyebrows shoot up, and he points a finger in my direction.
The rules of assignment. Check-in weekly, if not daily. Send briefs of findings through our secure network. Notify immediately if something has gone wrong. Leave for safety, if necessary.
It's all in a day's work.
“Of course I do.”
Jordy grunts, throwing his arms around me and holding me tightly. “Call if you need me. Even if you don't. I'll miss you, Oli.”
Dramatic asshole.
“Yeah, yeah. I'll miss you too,” I say into his neck. “Now, go.” I pull back, clearing my throat.
“Always eager to get rid of me.” He rolls his eyes and pats my head before turning on his heels and exiting my room.
Of course, the horny bastard doesn't leave my dorm like he’s supposed to. Nope. He stops by Simon's area across the hall just as Simon's roommate exits with a frown, hurrying out the door until it slams behind him.
I plop down onto my bed again, watching as they get closer and closer. I can’t make out their conversation, but Simon blushes twice until Jordy steps back with a cocky smirk—no doubt planning something naughty for the future.
Eventually, Jordy leaves with a shit-eating grin and waving his phone as his last goodbye. Letting me know he swindled Simon's number from him. Poor Simon. Jordy’s ause them andlose themkind of guy. He’s always had regular hookups within the Veritas bunker, but that’s the only time he keeps them around.
For now, I put everything I own away. Including my damn vibrators. Bastard. He really packed all three of them without blinking an eye. Ugh. Discreetly, I shove them into the back of my underwear drawer. Or should I say, boxer shorts drawer? And make sure they’re buried deep. If anyone finds them, then I’m fucking screwed.
Why do you have vibes, Oliver?
I plead the fifth!
I shake my head as the weird scenario plays through my mind and dig deeper into my duffel bag. Who knows what Jordy decided to toss in there? He already packed away my orgasm givers. Why not a spare hand or body part?
So it shouldn’t surprise me that when I reach the bottom of my bag, my fingers glide over smooth wood that forms the shape of a particular knife in a protective sleeve I’ve had stashed in my nightstand at the bunker.
“Jordy,” I hiss to myself, shifting the large hunting knife into view and sighing. Attached to the end of the handle is a friendly handwritten note, written by the devil himself.
‘Just in case you need to murder them.’
Right.
Just in case.
Just in case I need to put a damn knife through their hearts. He’s so thoughtful, isn’t he?
I blow out a breath, peeking over my shoulder. It’s silent in the dorm right now, and I can’t be sure who else is lurking around. So, I have to be careful about having a weapon on campus. Even if it’s for my safety, no one can find it or I’m toast and the mission is up in flames.
Jordy may be a brat, but I know he has good intentions. It could be dangerous for me if anyone finds out I’m not Oliver. Especially if they find out I’m an undercover agent attempting to infiltrate their precious gangs.
With that in mind, I shove the knife under my mattress and settle it so it looks undisturbed. Hopefully, no one will look there. I’m sure their first guess would be the damn dresser where they would find a different kind of stabby thing. Whatever. With that taken care of, I claim my desk, setting my Veritas-sanctioned laptop into a drawer. If anyone found it, they'd think it was a typical laptop. There's nothing suspicious about it. Only if they opened it, accessed it through my multiple layers of passwords, and happened to know how to open our secure portal, would they be suspicious of me.
Of course, my laptop would immediately send me an alert via my phone in a–burn after reading–type of message the moment it was opened by an unfamiliar face.
As I'm resting on my bed, lost in thought, someone else, presumably my new roommate, walks in with one box in his arms and a scowl on his handsome face. His large frame looms over me as his squared-jaw tics in annoyance at my presence. Angrily, he shoves his box on his bed and turns to me, squaring his shoulders.
His light eyes eat away at me, taking me in. His lips curl in disgust. “Stay away from my shit.”
With that, he leaves as quickly as he came. Wonderful. He'll be a peach to room with.
“Yeah, well! Same to you!” I mumble sarcastically to his back as he retreats out of the dorm with another slam of the door.
