❝A group called 'The Other Side' is hacking into our accounts, stealing identities and social security numbers. Luckily, neither of your information has been stolen, so that is another reason you two were chosen for this mission. You will go underco...
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POV // Mercedes Jones
I pushed past the doors and started to walk out of the building carrying my mission folder and my purse when I heard Agent Dolan run behind me. My walking pace quickened to a light jog as I reached the parking garage, but he started to run and yell after me.
"Agent Jones! Wait!" I heard his voice yell. I abruptly stopped walking and then dramatically turned around to see Agent Dolan.
"Yes, Agent Dolan?" I asked through gritted teeth. He looked down at me with his hazel green eyes.
"Don't you have any questions about the mission?" he asked. I rolled my eyes at him.
"Agent Dolan, I haven't read the file yet. Neither have you. So, I suggest you read it first and then ask questions." I rolled my eyes at him once more before I started to walk off. I couldn't get anywhere since his large hand wrapped around my upper arm. I heard him sigh loudly before turning me around to face him.
"Can I ask you a question?" he asked me.
"You just did, Double O-Seven," I said with a straight face. I didn't like him touching me, so I jerked my arm away from his grip and smoothed out my dress I was wearing. He sighed once more.
"We just met and you already hate me. Did I do something wrong?" He had his hands in his trouser pockets, his tie slightly undone, his hair slightly messy. I scoffed at his question.
"What do you mean 'We just met'? You know who I am," I snapped. I did not understand why he was putting up a facade and saying he did not know me. He knew me well. Too well.
"I'm sorry," he apologized. I shook my head at him, "but I've never seen you in my entire life until now." I tilted my head and scrunched my eyebrows up in confusion.
"Do you not remember high school, idiot?" I crossed my arms across my chest and rolled my eyes.
"High school?" His face had a look of confusion, similar to mine.
"Yes, high school? You had a 4.0 GPA, all A's, beat me in everything, beat me up a few times," I listed off but his face of confusion only increased. "You were a drop out," I blurted out, "like me," I finished in a low voice. He looked confused again for a moment before a look of realization hit his face.
"Oh. . .," he trailed off, head hanging low. He looked up at me with a smile before continuing, "you think I'm Grayson."
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