Psychotic lover

Chapter 24

"Remember what I told you. When they ask-"

"I went out, and I informed Nigel beforehand, but I suppose we've both forgotten to relay the message. Sorry," she recited, her hands burrowed in her hoodie pockets as her bobbed to the beat of the music blasting through her earpiece.

Nigel nodded, sighing anxiously before he pushed the glass door open, allowing Gracie to step in. They were back in the room where they had first met, and where she had ticked off just about every superior she had.

"Ah, Gracie."

Her eyes flitted to Harry's. He was watching her closely, his hands clasped together, propping his head up.

"Sorry I'm late. I went out on my own and forgot to inform someone. The mistake's on me," Gracie apologised whilst unplugging one earbud, tossing it carelessly over her shoulder as she scanned the room to find a cocktail of familiar and foreign faces as she blatantly ignoring the noise of protest from Nigel who trailed behind.

"Quite alright, in fact, expected," Harry straightened himself, "but you're called here today for an update."

Gracie nodded, her mind recalling the three bits Nigel had told her beforehand. She'd have to dig around the system for the soft copy later on, and that very task would take her more than a day.

"You're now under closer watch for your own welfare, the task taken by Nicholas Haynes," he began listing off the amendments made to her profile.

"Nick, if you were wondering," Nigel, who now stood beside Gracie, whispered.

Ah, so Nick's real name is actually Nicholas Haynes.

"You'll be having etiquette classes with me," he smiled, the sight unnatural to both his students who nervously glanced at each other, questioning.

"And they," he lifted his hand, motioning to the three new faces sat beside each other, "will be overseeing your overall performance and schedule."

Amongst the three, there was one Spanish female, one Latin mixed male and another white male. All of which seemed to be in their late twenties to early thirties.

"So this is the kid we've been hearing all about," the Latino grinned wolfishly, his sharp teeth picking at her uncertainty. His voice wasn't as deep as she had anticipated, and in fact carried a playful tone to it.

He had a few scars, both old and new decorating his face. His cheek donned a deep, yet old scar that ran down from his cheekbone. Another was at this temple, the end of the scar ending dangerously close to his eye for her liking, and another near his lips down to his chin, the last going across the bridge of his nose. Those four were the most prominent ones that caught her attention, and made her internally cringe at the thought of how deep it may have been.

He had unruly black locks of hair coated in hair gel that glistened under the illuminating LED lights, and deep set brown almond eyes that observed her with keen interest. His thin lips were dry and slightly cracked below his groomed moustache, his tongue occasionally darting out to lick away the dryness despite the glass of water in front of him. The grey shirt he had on him was slightly crumpled, while his leather jacket shined. He was slumped in his chair, his legs in an unsightly man spread whilst his arms was folded, his biceps bulging. Despite all the odd position and actions, she knew he was merely interested in her the way one would a new specimen, or a toy.

"Akinton, posture," Harry reminded the male who merely rolled his eyes, grumbling as he reluctantly adjusted himself.

"See Nigel, why can't you be more like him?" Harry turned to said male, who promptly ignored him and instead mouthed 'cunt' to Akinton.