Let's Start A Riot

Chapter Twenty - It Never Happened

We begin to pack everything up, Hugo still tapping away on the laptop while the rest of us put everything back in its place. The curtains are drawn due to the club being so close to the house, but Sarah peeks out every so often to check if the security guards have woken from their slumber and she sees them trudging past with furious looks on their face around three hours after she had tranquillised them. Luckily it doesn't matter that they'll try to go underground after this because MI6 already know their hideouts and these drugs are just the last nail in the coffin they need.

Marcus and I avoid each other like the plague. Whenever one of us enters the same room as the other person, the other walks out, so I just follow Sarah around helping her repack the tranquillising weapons into the duffel and case they had come out of.

She sends smirks my way and raises her eyebrows at me whenever Marcus comes in, but I just roll my eyes or ignore her expressions, trying to ignore the knot in my gut.

The car is arriving for us at eight a.m., and due to our early escape, we still have hours to kill once we are packed up, so we decide to take a room each and catch some sleep, knowing we have a mission debrief awaiting us once we arrive back at camp.

There are two bedrooms upstairs that Sarah and I immediately claim, and Hugo and Marcus take the couches in the living room and sitting room without much protest. I fall back onto the bed that is surprisingly comfortable, sighing in relief from escaping the awkward tension in the air.

I close my eyes, exhaustion trying to drag me into sleep, but my racing mind keeps pushing it further away. After an hour and a half of tossing and turning, unable to sleep, I decide to go to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Both the living room and sitting room doors are closed when I walk by, and I pass through the door into the kitchen, the house silent except for the soft snores from Hugo that I've become accustomed to.

I pull a glass from the cupboard, balancing on my toes to be able to reach it, and I take it over to the sink to fill it with water. The kitchen is now completely clean, the table cleared of the mess of wires and technology that had been spread over it hours before. I gulp down the water, grateful at how cold it is, I am boiling hot despite only wearing the tiny dress, having taken off the leather jacket, the fishnet tights because they started to dig in when I was lying down, and I had kicked off my boots because they had been sticking to my skin and rubbing at my heels.

I rinse the glass, shaking off the water because there isn't a towel and place it back in the cupboard. I quietly move out of the kitchen, walking back through the hallway but as I near the stairs, I notice that the living room door is now cracked open.

I disregard it, thinking that someone else is struggling with the stifling heat in this house. I am finally feeling as though I might be able to sleep and trudge back up the stairs.

I get quite the shock when I walk into the bedroom to find Marcus sitting on my bed.

"Uhm, what are you doing in here?" I ask hesitantly, his head snaps up when I speak.

"Oh uh," He begins, unsure, before his expression hardens into the familiar business-only expression he wears. "I just wanted to clarify that tonight was us playing a role, no more."

"You know, for one of the brightest MI6 candidates, you really are a terrible fucking liar." I state, surprising even myself at my bluntness.

"Excuse me?" Marcus scowls, taken aback.

I step further into the room, nudging the door shut with my foot since Hugo and Sarah are still sleeping and I really feel like strangling Marcus's dumb, beautiful arse.