The Unwanted Spy

by Scarlett Haven

  Putting on my headphones, I start my French lesson for the day.

  I find learning French is surprisingly easy. I studied Korean for three years at Spy School and felt like I barely scratched the surface of the language. But French comes a lot more naturally to me. Maybe because it’s a Latin-based language and it’s not so different from Spanish and English.

  As I am working, I get the feeling that somebody is watching me. I look up and see that Ian is looking at me from the corner of his eye. I don’t know what to think about it, so I just turn back to my work.

  Ian is the only one of the guys who knows who I truly am—he knows that I’m Roxy Villareal. And even when he’s mad at me, even when he hates me, he still keeps the secret I’ve asked him to keep. I don’t quite know what to think of him. He’s so... difficult to read. And he’s frustrating as heck. I suppose I will never truly understand the opposite sex.

  I can hardly concentrate on my studies anymore, so I shut my laptop, ripping the earbuds from my ears.

  I have no idea where Alek, Kal, and West went. West went to call Michael Sinclair, but that was nearly an hour ago. After I got out of my shower, I noticed Alek and Kal were gone, too. They don’t normally go out on Sunday nights, but maybe they decided to tonight. It’s still a little early for that, though. Maybe they went to the beach.

  Ian sucks in a sharp breath, and I look over any him to see him gaping at his computer.

  “Everything okay?” I ask, hoping I’m not annoying him.

  “Call West and tell him to get in here.” Ian clicks at his keyboard quickly.

  It seems urgent, so I pull my phone out and dial West’s number.

  He answers on the second ring.

  “What do you want?” He sounds annoyed that I called.

  “Ian says you need to get here.” I look at Ian, who is still frantically clicking at his keyboard. “You should probably bring the others, too. It sounds like he found something big.”

  West doesn’t respond and the call comes to an end.

  Of course. Why would he bother saying goodbye to me?

  I stuff my phone back into my pocket and scoot closer to Ian to see what he’s doing. He doesn’t even seem annoyed by the fact that I’m now sitting next to him, nearly touching him. So, whatever it is that he’s found, I know it’s huge.

  It only takes half a minute for the front door of the condo to open and three sets of footsteps run inside.

  Wherever the guys were, they weren’t far from the condo. They are wearing normal clothes—jeans and t-shirts, so they definitely weren’t working out or swimming. I wonder what they were doing, but I’m probably not privy to that information.

  The three of them pile onto the couch next to Ian and me.

  West sits on the arm rest, directly next to Ian. Kal nudges himself between Ian and me, and Alek sits on the other side of me, but he leans over me, giving me a great view of the back of his head.

  “I can’t see,” I mumble.

  “Shut up,” Alek says, his Russian accent stronger than ever.

  “Russian freak.”

  He laughs at my comment.

  Kal picks me up and sits me on his lap so I can see over Alek’s giant head, and Alek scoots closer.

  Ian glares at us. “Are the two of you done fighting?”

  I could smart off, but I refrain.

  “I’ll be good,” I promise him.

  He rolls his eyes, but turns back to his computer. “I’ve been combing through the assassin’s email—that is where I found the emails he exchanged with the Saudi Prince. But I was looking so hard for that email that I completely overlooked something else.”

  Kal shifts me in his lap so he can get a better look at the screen.

  “There were emails exchanged between this assassin and another assassin. Most of the emails were deleted, and I can’t seem to find them, but he missed one. This one was exchanged on the day we were in Santorini. So, he died before he could delete the email,” Ian explains. “Nicholas Johnson was not working alone, and I’m not just talking about the bald guy with the mom tattoo either. I’m talking about a huge group of assassins. I think the guy we hunted down may have just been a pawn and a decoy. This is much bigger than just one Saudi Prince, and it’s bigger than just one assassin.”

  “Let me get Michael Sinclair on the line. You should explain this to him,” West says, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

  I remain quiet as he calls Michael’s number.

  When he answers, I remain quiet as West and Ian explain what Ian was able to find through the assassin’s email.

  Ian tells him everything that he’s found and Michael stays quiet as he listens, which worries me a little bit.

  I get the feeling that whatever we’ve uncovered here is a lot bigger than any of us thought, including Michael Sinclair.

  “This is very disturbing,” Michael Sinclair says, mimicking my own thoughts. “I have a couple of agents working on the inside with the Saudi King. They were the ones who convinced him to hold off on starting a war. While they’re at the palace, I have them doing some undercover work. I will have them do a conference call with you later tonight, and I would like you to explain all of this to them. Maybe the five of you could work together with them to solve this.”

  My heart races at the thought of working with another team on such a big case.

  This is why I wanted to be a Royal. Because this is a huge case to be working on while we’re still in training. Normally groups aren’t trusted with cases like this for many years—some never get cases like this. But me... I get to help change the world. Maybe by helping with this case, I could stop a war from happening. I could be saving millions of lives and not even know it.

  I love my job.

  This is why I put up with the way West, Alek, and Ian treat me. Because I want to make a difference.

  “This case... it is a very dangerous one,” Michael warns. “West, make sure you are taking extra precautions. Nobody is to be on their own if they need to leave. Stay in groups and be vigilant. I have a feeling we walked into something that is much bigger than we can even imagine right now.”

  “We will, sir,” West promises.

  When the call comes to an end, all five of us sit there quietly for a moment, soaking in Michael Sinclair’s words.

  This case... it’s a big case. If we can help solve this... well, we’d be ready for graduation, which is what we all want.

  West looks at me. “No more running by yourself in the morning.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “But we’re on a private beach owned by Spy School. It’s guarded.”

  “You really want to fight me on this, Princess?” he asks.

  I sigh, giving in.

  While I do think he is just harping on me for running on my own, I can’t defy his order—not when it comes to this.

  “Who wants to wake up early to run with me?” I ask.

  The guys all groan.

  Yeah, I didn’t think so.

  “I will,” West says.

  My eyes widen. “Really?”

  He nods. “You’re loud in the mornings and you wake me up anyway. I might as well get some extra training in.”

  West is doing something nice yet he’s belittling me at the same time. I suppose he wouldn’t be West Newman if he wasn’t being cruel to me.

  “Fine,” I say.

  “Also, can you not sit on Kal’s lap?” He waves a hand in front of his nose. “I can smell your desperation from here and it’s making me nauseous.”

  Alek and Ian both chuckle and my face grows warm. I move off of Kal’s lap, squishing myself between Kal and Alek. Alek scoots over to make room for me. I want to run away and hide, but I refuse to let West know that he’s getting to me.

  “I set her in my lap. Don’t blame her,” Kal says, sticking up for me.

  “It’s okay,” I tell him. “I don’t care what West thinks anyway.”

  But that is a lie.

  Still, I have a good pok
er face.

  West rolls his eyes and storms out of the condo.

  Maybe he cares more than he lets on, but it’s not worth my time to think about that right now. Right now, we have more important things to worry about. Like who that assassin was working for.

  Parents of the year.

  Later that night, we crowd around West’s computer in the dining room. He sits in the front, of course. West, Alek, Ian, Kal, and I scoot our chairs behind him.

  We’re waiting on a phone call from a couple of older Royal agents—agents who are on location in Saudi Arabia. The guys and I are excited about this call. It’s always exciting to talk to other Royal agents. I got to talk to my fair share while growing up, since my parents were Royals. Maybe I will know whoever is calling. I’m just glad I know it’s not my parents. Last I heard, they were leaving for South Africa for a few months.

  West’s computer sings a tone, and he clicks the green button to answer the video call. We all smile as we wait for the video to connect.

  My heart stops as I see my mother and father appear on the screen. I flinch and scoot to try and hide myself behind West. Kal gives me a weird look as I scoot my chair, and I glance over at Ian. He knows who my parents are, and he knows that I want to keep it a secret. His eyes soften as he looks at me, and I know he feels bad for me.

  I told Ian a few things about them, including the fact that they’re really sucky parents. It was the one and only time we talked and connected.

  To my utter surprise, as West greets my parents, Ian reaches a hand over behind West’s chair and grabs onto my hand. It’s a small comfort, but it’s welcomed. It makes me feel better.

  I will just try to hide behind West and not let my parents see me. Maybe if I stay hidden, they won’t acknowledge me, but I know I won’t be that lucky.

  West, Alek, and Kal all basically worship my parents. I’m not surprised. I’m sure they think of my parents as Spy School gods—as legends to The Royals. My parents have done some really amazing things, I won’t deny that. But one thing they haven’t done amazingly is parenting. They have been the worst parents anybody could ever ask for. It’s like they used all their energy to save the world and had none left for their only daughter—their only child.

  Throughout the conversation, I am thankful that my parents don’t acknowledge me, and I don’t say a word to them. I don’t want to point out the fact that I am here. I just pray that they don’t notice me.

  They discuss the case with West, who tells them everything that Ian found earlier. But I am completely dazed out through the conversation. I can’t believe that out of all the Royal agents who could be in Saudi Arabia right now, my parents are the ones there. I feel like it shouldn’t be possible for one girl to have so much bad luck. It isn’t fair. But then again, I suppose life isn’t fair.

  “Roxy, darling.” Mom’s voice pulls me out of my daydreams and my stomach is in knots as the guys look at me.

  I clear my throat. “What?”

  “Make your father and me proud.” Her sickening, sweet voice is so fake that it makes my skin crawl. “And remember what we told you. Mess this up and you will no longer be a Villareal.”

  She smiles as the screen goes blank and I feel sick to my stomach.

  I know that I shouldn’t let my parents get me down, but I can’t help it.

  Tears press against the back of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Especially since all four guys are staring at me. Ian, whom I forgot was holding my hand, squeezes it, but I drop my hand to my side.

  “You’re a Villareal.” West rubs his hand along the scruff on his jaw.

  I imagine what he’s going to say next. ‘Why aren’t you better, if they are your parents?’ Or maybe he’ll say, ‘That explains how you became a Royal.’ But he doesn’t say any of those things.

  “Your parents are...” West’s voice trails off.

  “Cold,” Alek suggests. “Very cold.”

  I roll my eyes. “You guys idolized them just a few minutes ago. I thought the fact that they hate me would only make you like them more. I mean, you have a common enemy.”

  The guys stay quiet as they look at me. Maybe they’re waiting for me to break, but I’m not quite so fragile.

  I stand up from my chair. “I’m going for a run.”

  “Not on the beach,” West reminds me. “In the gym will be fine.”

  I nod.

  I don’t like the thought of running on the treadmill, but it’s better than nothing. I need to run right now. I need to do something to get my mind off of everything that has happened.

  I quickly change out of my dress and into workout clothes. I grab an elastic hairband and put my hair up as I walk toward the gym. I don’t want to wait for the elevator, so I take the steps two at a time.

  My hands are shaking as I turn on the treadmill. I put in my earbuds, turning up the music.

  Normally, my taste in music is pretty mild, but when I’m upset, I like to listen to songs with a lot of screaming and distorted guitars—the kind of music where I can’t even understand what they’re saying. I just want to drown out the sound of my parents’ voices. I want to forget the way my mom looked at me with disgust. I want to forget the look of pity that the guys gave me, and I just want to run. I want to run until I feel numb—I want to feel... nothing. Because I am nothing. At least, that is how I feel after talking with my parents.

  Everything sucks.

  I can’t believe my eyes.

  I run on the treadmill until I am completely wet with sweat and my body is numb. I know I will regret the extra work out tomorrow, but it was exactly what I needed tonight. When I shut off the treadmill, I see that I’ve run fifteen miles. I hardly ever run that far.

  I am good at running, and it’s something that I enjoy enough, but I always preferred the training side of things. I like to spar and I like to box. I love MMA and different fighting styles. I like to learn everything I can. Running was just something I did because I knew it was important. So, the fact that I just ran fifteen miles on the treadmill like it was nothing does surprise me. It also proves just how hard I’ve been working.

  Still, even as I stumble off the treadmill, I can’t shake what happened with my parents earlier. Maybe it was the fact that the guys were there to witness it—that definitely didn’t feel good—or maybe it just solidified what they guys have been saying.

  Maybe I’m not good enough to be on their team. Maybe I’m not strong enough to be a Royal.

  I’ve spent the last two and a half months trying to figure out which one of the guys voted for me. I need to know which one of them did it. The more I think about it, the more I think that maybe none of them did because they definitely don’t act like it.

  What if nobody voted for me? What if my parents somehow arranged it? Not because they knew it was my dream, but because they wanted to make a fool out of me.

  I could always hack into the votes. I’m not the best hacker in the world, but I’m good enough to do that. I stumble into the condo on shaky legs and head straight for the bathroom. I ignore the guys, who all look my way as I stumble in. I’m sure I look like a complete mess, but then again, it’s me we’re talking about. I am a complete mess.

  For the first time since moving into the condo, I take a hot shower and it’s nice. As I take my time putting conditioner into my hair, I can’t help but think it’s a good idea to hack into the vote. Maybe it’s a slight invasion of privacy, but I guarantee the guys would’ve done the same thing in my position. And I won’t even allow myself to feel bad about it.

  I don’t even take the time to blow dry my hair like I normally do. I just leave it wet. I trip over my own feet as I am walking into the living room. Alek chuckles, so I shoot a glare his way. I grab my computer from the coffee table, but when I look up, I notice that all the guys are looking at me. They’re probably waiting for me to have a nervous breakdown or cry or something. But what they don’t realize is what just happened with my parents is normal. I’ve been d
ealing with that since I was a kid. I don’t usually cry over it anymore—a tear or two, maybe. But I haven’t sobbed over my mom’s harsh words since I was about twelve. She’s just not worth it.

  I sigh. “Guys, what happened today was totally normal for me. You might idolize my parents, but they’re cruel to me. Don’t treat me any different because of that. They don’t affect me. Not anymore.”

  It’s a lie, of course. I’m sure they can see right through what I am saying. But it’s really none of their business. I don’t want them to treat me any differently because of what happened.

  West shifts in his seat. He looks at me like he wants to argue. “If you need to talk—”

  I cut him off. “I don’t.”

  “But if you do, we’re here—all of us,” he says.

  I nod, hugging my laptop to my chest. “Anything else?”

  “No.”

  I turn before any of them can come up with another reason to feel sorry for me. I take my laptop and I hide in my room, away from the guys. I hold my breath until the door is shut behind me, cutting me off from the rest of them.

  I know that I keep saying I want to be part of the team and I want them to like me, that is still true, but I don’t want them to like me because of my parents. I thought that if they found out my last name is Villareal, they would only like me because of my name. And now that they know, I worry they’re only going to like me because they feel sorry for me. They see the way my parents treat me and they’ll pity me. That is the last thing I want.

  Is it so wrong for me to want them to like me for me?

  I open up my computer and I start hacking into the votes. Even though I take a daily hacking class, it’s not something I normally do unless it’s for homework. Still, it’s something that does come easy for me. My dad is a good hacker. I think if I liked hacking, I could be good at it, but it’s never been much of an interest to me. I’m not sure why—I love being nosey and learning things about people. But I guess it’s only rewarding if they tell me. If I have to find out from hacking, it’s not as rewarding. But hacking into the votes is different. It’s something I have to do for my peace of mind, at least that is what I tell myself.