Agent (CENTURIES series: Book #3)

18

Monroe was the one who had decided to shadow me. He had been convinced all along that I had been in tow with Vince, so early this morning, he had put together a SWAT team and set out to surveil me. Obviously, his hard work had been fruitful.

The sounds they had recorded and misunderstood was of Vince masturbating and me groaning over him in my bed. Over a listening device, the noises all sounded the same, as if they were coming from the same room. That meant, as far as the CIA knew, we had had sex that morning and probably had so before as well, and then based on the conversation we had outside my building, we were indeed lovers who were conspiring against the government.

"For the millionth time, Vince and I are not a couple," I said as I sat in the interrogation room, looking up at Howard who paced the floor and Monroe who sat in the metal chair in front of me, looking like he was getting a blowjob. The satisfied smirk on his lips made me physically sick. I wanted nothing more than to punch him right in his fucking face. "The only reason why he was in my apartment was because he showed up out of nowhere. As you said so yourself last night, Howard, Vince could've taken Zac, so I patched him up so he wouldn't bleed out, because if he did, we would never get to the bottom of this Zac thing! Not to mention the USB!"

"He claims he doesn't have it anymore," Howard said, glancing at me with a disappointment. He couldn't put it into context that I had actually done this – betrayed him, our government. The irony was hilarious. "He won't tell us where he left it, and after a search of your apartment, we're confident he didn't leave it there."

I concealed my surprise with a flat face, but I was shocked. If they had searched my apartment, they should've found not only the USB, but also the files Vince had in that suitcase. Why hadn't they? Unless... were they bluffing? Were they trying to make me slip up somehow?

Change of strategy then. "Then why are you still keeping me here? I've explained everything to you, he was there because he was injured—"

"But why did he come to you?" Howard interrupted, clenching his jaw. "You must realize how it looks, Rya. A national enemy you've been boasting loudly about killing shows up at your doorstep, whereafter you take him in and bandage him up. And the recordings we got on you afterwards..."

"Howard, please," I begged him. "Believe me, I know how it sounds, but you know me, I'm telling the truth—"

"People lie, evidence doesn't," Monroe snapped, cutting me off. "He conveniently knew about your tattoo that time in the extraction room, then he kissed you because the fucker just couldn't control himself, then you had your fun in the champagne room at the Trojan Horse club, and now this," Monroe said, pressing the recorder on the table so it played the five seconds of Vince's grunting in the shower and my groaning before he stopped it again. "We've got recordings of you two in the street as well. You're done for, Rya, just fucking confess."

"You're such a fucking idiot," I said, glaring flatly at Monroe. "All you want is my goddamn office, why don't you confess to that. You've wanted me gone ever since I beat you in that shooting contest."

"You didn't beat me, you distracted me—"

"Enough, you two," Howard sternly broke through. He gave us both a glance. "Whatever rivalry that's going on between you, I order you to put it aside. We have a national threat at our hands." When me and Monroe just glanced viciously at each other, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, Rya. Vince is down in the extraction room again. Given the injuries he had already obtained before he arrived, he's likely to crack under soon. If you really care for him, then give yourself up and just tell us everything. Spare him the pain he's going through."