“Damn it, Jones, I said no. I am tired. I just spent four months in hell because of you, and I’m not going back there just yet.” On her way past the table, she laid her weapon down. “Taige—” She took a deep breath as she opened the refrigerator, staring inside for something to drink. Her belly was an empty, aching pit, but she had no desire to eat. Just a drink. Preferably something strong enough to send her crashing into oblivion for the next eight hours. She wouldn’t even mind the hangover too much, provided she had a little bit of peace before it hit. “You aren’t hearing me, Jones. I’m not your lackey. I am not one of your agents you can send running out for coffee or to go spy on the neighbors. You want my help; you have to ask me for it. You asked. I just said no. Now leave me the hell alone.” She lowered the phone and disconnected it in the middle of Taylor Jones’s rant. Son of a bitch. She couldn’t stand him. He had tried to recruit her before she even got out of college, and when he didn’t succeed, he sent others to try their hand.
