The Cruel World Read online

  I nod, twirling a piece of hair around my finger. “When I was in the hospital and I told Michael Sinclair that I didn’t want to switch teams, he told me that we would be spending a lot of time with Jensen and his team soon. At the time, I thought maybe we’d be doing a mission with them or something. But now…”

  West makes a fist. “You’ve got to kidding me.”

  “I’m sorry.” I lower my gaze.

  He groans. “It’s not your fault, I just hate those guys, especially Rook.”

  My eyes widen. “I thought you hated Jensen the most.”

  “I did. Until Rook kept asking you out on dates,” he says.

  I furrow my brows. “Why would that upset you?”

  He doesn’t answer. Instead, he puts his hand on the small of my back. “We should get this over with.”

  Butterflies fill my stomach, but it has nothing to do with what is waiting for us on the other side of this airplane ride. Instead, the butterflies are because of the boy who has his hand on my back. I resist the urge to lean into him as we make our way up the stairs and onto the jet.

  As soon as we walk onboard, I expect West to move his hand, but he doesn’t. Instead, he moves closer to me as we approach where everybody is sitting. I’m not surprised to see Jensen, Cole, and Rook already seated. West nudges me forward. Even though there are seats in the back, he pushes us past Jensen, Cole, and Rook, to the front of the plane. As we walk past, West glares at the guys and I can’t help but think that this—whatever this is—is going to be really bad.

  West and I take a seat toward the front and my stomach is in knots as we buckle up for takeover. As the plane starts to move, my stomach churns, and I have a feeling it’s not motion sickness.

  “Don’t worry. No matter what happens, our team will stick together.” West grabs onto my hand and squeezes it.

  As comforting as his words should be, I can’t help but think about the fact that Ian hates me. I also think about the fact that we were all fighting just a few days ago. So, as much as I want to believe what he’s saying, I’m still worried.

  I sink further down into my seat as the plane takes off.

  Lord of the Flies: Spy School Edition, Season Two

  I’m looking out the window of the airplane as the island gets smaller below us. The curtain starts to shut, blocking off my view.

  Weird.

  I go to push the curtain back up, but I can’t.

  “West,” I say.

  He looks over. “What?”

  I push at the curtain again. “It won’t open.”

  West jumps up, coming closer to the window. He tries to push it up, but it doesn’t even nudge.

  “My window won’t open either,” Rook says from behind us.

  I swallow hard, looking at West.

  “I found something,” Jensen yells, holding up an envelope. “It fell out when the curtain closed.”

  West grabs onto my hand, tugging me along with him to the back of the plane. We crowd around Jensen. West goes to grab the note from him, but Jensen tugs the letter back. West glares at Jensen, but eventually backs down.

  “Read it,” West demands.

  Jensen smirks. “Calm yourself, West.”

  I reach over West, snatching the note from Jensen. “I’ll read it.”

  West snatches it from me and I don’t fight him. I’d rather him read it, I just don’t want everybody fighting.

  He groans before he begins reading out loud and I know that whatever he’s about to say is not going to be good.

  “Dear West and Jensen,” West reads.

  “Jensen is first, then West,” Jensen interrupts.

  West glares at Jensen.

  He shrugs. “I’m just saying. You should get it right.”

  West looks back down at the letter, ignoring Jensen.

  “As a Royal agent, it is important for you to get along with other teams. In the future, you might find yourself working together, and I’d rather you work out your differences now then while on a case. It’s just seven days—get through it together. Learn how to trust one another and get along.” West scoffs.

  Jensen groans. “Seriously? Seven days?”

  West waves the letter. “It’s signed by Michael Sinclair.”

  My chest sinks as I realize what is happening—we’re about to be dropped off somewhere for seven days. I’m sure we’ll be cut off from technology. Not to mention Ian’s broken leg—how is he supposed to get around on crutches?

  I have a really, really bad feeling about this.

  Lord of the Flies, here we come again. Only this time, it’s worse.

  “This is your fault,” West accuses, pointing at Jensen. “If you and your lovestruck team members would’ve just left Roxy alone, we wouldn’t be going through this right now.”

  Jensen laughs. “Lovestruck? And you think you’re the one who needs to talk to my team about being lovestruck?”

  West steps closer to Jensen, so I take a step back, not wanting to be in the line of fire. This airplane is not big enough for that. When I do step back, a hand touches my shoulder. I don’t even get a chance to see who’s hand it is before a fist is swung past my face toward the person behind me. I duck out of the way just in time to see West launch himself at Rook, who had just put his hand on me. Rook doesn’t take kindly to West’s fist

  Are they seriously fighting on an airplane? A small airplane at that.

  Kal pushes past me and I think he’s about to break up the fight before he and Cole start swinging punches at one another. Alek pushes forward and goes after Jensen and I am left standing there, watching the whole thing unfold.

  I glance over at Ian. He has turned around in his seat to watch the fight. When he notices me looking at him, he shakes his head at me and turns back around, putting his headphones on to watch whatever movie he was watching before.

  Why do I get the feeling that Ian thinks the fight is my fault?

  Maybe it is my fault. After all, I’m most likely the reason we’re here. This is happening for a second time because of me.

  I chew on my fingernail, trying to think of a way of a way to bring the fight to an end, but what can I do? West is swinging at Rook and Jensen is swinging at Alek. Cole… well, he currently has Kal in a headlock. If the whole thing weren’t so pathetic it might be amusing to watch. And if things between Ian and I were okay, I’d probably sit down beside him, grab a pair of headphones, and watch that movie with him. Part of me wonders what he’d do if I did just that, but the other part of me thinks we’d be the ones in a fist fight then.

  Yeah… I better not.

  Rolling my eyes, I step forward, grabbing Kal’s fist before it can make contact with Cole’s already bleeding nose.

  “Come on, guys.” I give them both a pointed look. “Why are you even fighting?”

  Cole shrugs. Kal lowers his head.

  “Help me stop them.” I nod my head toward the other four that are fighting.

  Cole and Kal help break up the fights. First, we get Jensen and Alek. Rook and West are harder to break up. Not because of Rook, he quits fighting easily, but West doesn’t want to stop. Eventually, he does stop fighting though and we all separate to different areas of the plane to cool off.

  West pulls me with him, refusing to let me from his sight for even a minute. Part of me wonders if he’s acting this way because Rook put his hand on me. Maybe he’s worried I’m going to conspire with the other team. I want to reassure him that he has nothing to worry about—I am done with the other team. I’ve made my decision. But the other part of me thinks speaking might make things worse.

  When we sit back down in our seat, West surprises me when he grabs onto my hand and holds it. He doesn’t speak a word. I glance over at him to see that his jaw is clenched tight—he’s definitely still mad, but his touch is so gentle. I’m not sure what to make of it.

  How are we going to survive seven days with our rival team? Michael Sinclair might think he’s doing the right thing, but I happen to
disagree with him this time. I think this is the absolute wrong decision. If anything, he’s going to tear us apart more. I just hope that my team survives this mess.

  West’s thumb gently caresses mine, so I look over at him and see that he’s watching me.

  “You don’t… like Rook, do you?” West asks.

  I shake my head, then pause. “Well, I kind of like him, yeah. He’s a good agent and he’s been really nice to me. I know I’m supposed to hate our rival team, but I don’t.”

  West clenches his jaw, pulling his hand away abruptly. “Maybe you should go sit by him then.”

  I furrow my brows, wondering what I said wrong. “West, why are you mad at me?”

  He runs his hands over his face. “I don’t know. I just… hate Rook.”

  I put my hand on his arm. “You know I’m not leaving our team to join theirs, right?”

  West narrows his eyes. “I’m not letting you go, even if you wanted to.”

  I grin, unable to stop it. “And you know that when I say that I like him, it’s that I like him as a fellow Royal agent, right? I don’t want to date him or anything like that.”

  West shrugs. “I don’t care either way.”

  I chew on the side of my lip, nodding my head. I’m not sure if I believe him or not, but for some reason I need him to know.

  He relaxes back in his seat, his jaw slowly unclenching.

  He might say he doesn’t care, but his body says otherwise. Not that it matters. Even if West were interested in me the same way I’m interested in him, which he’s not, we couldn’t date. We’re on the same team. And I can’t date somebody on my team. Things with Ian are tense enough. If I date somebody else on our team, I can’t imagine how angry he would feel if I did. And definitely betrayed.

  No—I have to keep my mind on my job. Being a Royal is everything to me and I’m not going to give that up, not for anything.

  “Hey, Princess,” West says.

  I turn, my breath catching in my throat when I see his deep blue eyes studying me. “What?”

  “I lied. I would care. Please, don’t date Rook.”

  I swallow hard, nodding. “I promise I won’t.”

  Because even if Rook weren’t on my rival team, my heart already belongs to somebody else. And even if West doesn’t feel the same, it wouldn’t be fair for me to date Rook when I’m this enamored with West.

  My heart flutters as West grabs onto my hand again.

  Yeah… I’ve got it bad.

  It’s a problem.

  Stay away from us.

  The flight is equally as short as it is long. Long because of everything that has happened on our flight. Short because we can’t have been in the air more than an hour and a half before we land. I’m surprised that, when we land, I still have cell reception. I figured our phones would be taken away like last time.

  I can’t believe we’re here again. Will we always get into situations like this? Our teams getting into a fist fight only proves that Michael Sinclair knows what he’s doing. We do need to work out our differences. But I still hate it. I hate being here again.

  When we get off the plane, there is an SUV waiting for us. We barely have time to get off the plane before it takes off, leaving us on the ground.

  West and Jensen argue over who is going to drive, but I am more worried about the fact that we’re all going to have to squeeze inside to fit. After Kal offers for me to sit on his lap, West decides that Jensen should drive. Somehow, I find myself sharing the front passenger seat with West. I’m not sitting on his lap, but I am squeezed between the center console and him.

  Jensen smirks, looking over at us, but he doesn’t say a word. Good thing too because West is tense. He’s one comment away from another fist fight breaking out.

  The back of the SUV is crowded too. Alek and Cole somehow managed to get the two middle seats, leaving Kal, Ian, and Rook crammed in the backseat together. As crammed as I am, I’m still glad to be in the front with West instead.

  When Jensen starts the car, the GPS turns on and begins giving instructions.

  “How much trouble would we get into if we just drove to the closest hotel and spent the week there instead?” Jensen asks.

  I laugh, thinking that sounds much nicer. I don’t know where we’re going, but I know it’s probably not going to be a lot of fun.

  “At least we have our phones this time,” I tell West, hoping to relieve some of his stress.

  He doesn’t respond. He just turns, looking out the window.

  Yikes.

  Everybody remains quiet on the drive there. The tension feels so thick—I don’t know what to do or say. I feel like, if I speak, it would most definitely make things worse. After all, this is my fault. I know the guys fought before I joined the team, but when Jensen asked me to join their team, it definitely made things worse.

  I shift a little, trying to alleviate some tension in my hip from getting squished. West lifts me up, shifting in the seat, and sits me on his lap. I chew on the side of my lip, wondering why he did that. I can also see Jensen smirking out the corner of my eye, but I refuse to look his way.

  “Relax,” West whispers in my ear.

  Yeah, that’s not going to happen.

  Still, I do try to relax into him. I hate how comfortable and warm he is.

  It’s not cold where we are, but it’s definitely not as warm as it was in Florida. I’m very glad I decided to wear a hoodie on the plane. I shiver a little and West wraps his arms around me.

  Glancing at the GPS, I am disappointed when I see there are only five minutes left of our drive. I’m really comfortable like this, with West’s arms around me. Really, it’s probably better that the trip will be over soon. I like this a little too much.

  “You know, I’ve heard other agents talk about a cabin in the woods in Tennessee,” Cole says.

  I actually think I have too, but I don’t say it out loud.

  Rook groans. “I hope it’s not the place where we have to kill all our own food.”

  “What’s wrong, Rook? Can’t handle eating a bunny?” Alek taunts.

  My stomach churns at the thought.

  “Don’t worry,” West says, rubbing my arms. “I’m not making you eat a bunny.”

  I sigh in relief.

  Jensen laughs. “Don’t worry, Rook. I won’t make you eat a bunny either.”

  Rook throws something from the back of the SUV—a wadded up receipt, I think. “Shut up, Jensen. I’ll eat the freaking bunny if I have to.”

  I swallow hard. “Can we stop talking about eating bunnies?”

  Everybody laughs, but they suddenly stop once we pull into a long driveway that leads to a cabin. Though it’s hard to tell from here, the cabin looks small—really small. The further we get up the drive, the more anxious I feel about the whole thing. It’s not until the SUV comes to a sudden and abrupt stop that I begin to worry.

  “What the heck?” Jensen turns the keys on the SUV, but nothing happens.

  “My phone!” Ian yells.

  I look back and see him tapping on his screen.

  “My phone isn’t working either,” Cole says.

  I look down at my own phone and tap it a few times, seeing that the screen is dead.

  Great—so much for having access to our phones.

  Jensen gets out of the SUV first, slamming the door shut behind him. The rest of us get out, following him up to the cabin. My worst fears are confirmed about the size—it is tiny.

  There is a porch that wraps around the front and side of the cabin. It’s quaint, there is even a porch swing. But the outside isn’t the part I’m concerned about. We step inside the cabin—I think we’re all anxious to see just how big, or small, this place really is.

  When we walk inside, I walk around the decent sized living room. It’s bigger than the living room in our condo, but not big enough considering the fact that there are going to be eight of us here. The dining room has a large table, big enough for eight people, and the kitchen is
nice enough with its black stainless steel appliances. I’m also pleased to see the fridge and pantry are well stocked—we won’t be eating any bunnies this week.

  There are two bedrooms—both of them equal in size with its own bathroom. Each room has four twin sized beds each, so Kal and Alek grab one of the beds from one room and move it into another.

  “We might have to stay here for a week, but we can all agree to stay in our own space.” West crosses his arms over his chest as he talks with Jensen, Rook, and Cole. I stand beside him and Ian follows Alek and Kal as they move the bed.

  “It doesn’t have to be like that, man,” Rook says. He has a black eye already from his fight with West, along with a swollen jaw.

  Even after West literally punched him, Rook is still a nice guy.

  West clenches his jaw. “I will say this once—stay away from us. I better not catch any of you trying to steal my teammates.” He glares at each of them. “And stay away from Roxy.”

  Jensen chuckles. “Whatever you say, West.”

  Not waiting for anybody else to say anything, West gently grabs onto my wrist and tugs me along with him. I just let him pull me, not wanting to anger West anymore. I definitely don’t agree with him telling the other team to stay away from me. If Michael Sinclair wants us here to try and get along, it’s for a good reason. We should at least try to work through our differences. But I’m not going to say that to West. He’s the team leader and he gets to decide what our team does.

  Before we walk into the room where Alek, Kal, and Ian are, West pulls me to a stop.

  “Don’t talk to them, Roxy,” West says, his voice low.

  I raise an eyebrow at him. “Why would I talk to them if you asked me not to? I won’t, West. I promise. Especially not after everything.”

  He gives me a sharp nod, walking into the room. I follow him, not knowing what else to do.

  This is going to be a very long week, I can already tell.

  “This is my bed.” Ian plops down on a bed in the corner. “Make sure Roxy isn’t anywhere near me.”

  My chest aches at his words. Kal pulls me toward him.

  “Nice. She can sleep by me,” Kal says.