Miss No One - Mark Ayre (top 10 most read books in the world txt) 📗

of the organisation that employed Abbie she had met. Other than for the briefest windows for a weapon's drop or similar. When he found her, she was falling apart. Worse, the prophetic dreams, and the consequences of not averting the disasters they portended, were tearing her apart. Taking her under his wing, Ben had helped train her. Everything Abbie was, everything she had, she owed to her benefactor. To Ben.

Which did nothing to change the fact she didn't much like him. He had never been friendly or easy to get on with, and over the years, their relationship had soured rather than improved. His rigid set of rules didn't help. On the few occasions Abbie had gone out of her way to help someone that didn't directly relate to one of her dreams, he had chastised her. He liked her in her box, doing what he said and nothing more.

Somehow, in his tone, she sensed there was more of this attitude coming down the line. He was about to ask of her something she would not like.

"You'll need a top lawyer," Ben said. "Luckily, we have plenty on the payroll."

Abbie didn't respond. His tone was gnawing at her, causing anxiety which worsened by the moment.

"I need out," said Abbie. "Ndidi's on the warpath, and there's plenty I don't understand. I need to win him round."

Abbie didn't think her words would have any bearing on Ben's decision. Once she had finished her story, he would have calculated all the options. He would know how he wanted to proceed. Abbie had no say in the matter and no power to change his mind.

"You don't need to persuade me," said Ben. "You're our employee. Although there's no physical or digital document outlining your responsibilities or ours when it comes to your real job, we both know there is a mental contract. One with clear terms we both understand. If we were to refuse you legal representation, we would be in breach of that contract, and for either party to breach the contract, even though it was never signed, would be unacceptable."

Abbie closed her eyes. Clutched the phone a little tighter. He was right: no real contract existed. As far as the government was concerned, Abbie was a freelance consultant. She had several clients, but each was a shell corporation owned by her real employer. Ben had explained all this when Abbie agreed to work for them. There had indeed been terms, though nothing was signed.

And Abbie knew where this is going.

"You know how seriously I take my job," she said. "Nothing will compromise the work I do. Saving lives is my number one priority. Always has been, and always will be."

There was silence. Abbie realised she had said more than she should have, given her location, and glanced towards the closed door. Too late now. She would have to hope her friend on the other side hadn't heard.

"You're in breach of contract," said Ben. The statement was matter of fact, spoken without inflexion or emotion. "Give me your word you’ll rectify the situation, and I'll have a lawyer there within the hour. You'll be free within two."

"Can't you listen to me a minute?" said Abbie. "My performance will not suffer. I will not fail. Please, work with me here."

Ben didn't hesitate. "You're in breach of contract. I need your word you will rectify the situation."

Abbie closed her eyes. She was taking long, deep breaths, trying to control her anger. As she did, she contemplated lying.

"I know you're trying to decide whether to lie," said Ben. "It's natural, but I pray you don't try it. You know the power we have. You know you have no hope of concealing a relationship. Lying would waste everybody's time and drive a wedge between us. Abbie, you don't want to drive a wedge between us, do you?"

Her eyes still closed, Abbie was thinking of Bobby. That beautiful smile. The way it lit up when she entered the room. The way he made her feel. The way he had changed her life. Given it worth.

Could she give all that up?

"Would it help demonstrate my position if I told you how many times he's shared your bed in the last month?" said Ben. "Or how many pubs you've visited? What if I told you what he'd ordered the last time you went for dinner and what you both drank? It was good of you to pay."

Anger bubbled up from her stomach, into her throat and onwards. It flooded her brain. Sensing an oncoming burst of rage, Abbie pulled the phone from her ear and grabbed the table. Fought to regain control of her temper.

After thirty seconds, she returned the phone to her ear.

"You've known for weeks," she said. "Which means you could have demanded I break it off ages ago. But you wanted to wait until I was in no position to refuse, didn't you? You know I won't play chicken because if it comes to it, you'll let Isabella die to get your way, but I never will."

Ben didn't comment.

"You're a coward," said Abbie.

"You wound me, and it's not what you think. We care about you, and what you do is important. More important than one man could ever be, no matter how he makes you feel. You say we'll let Isabella die before we bend, and you're right because we know, in the long run, it'll be for the best. In fact, you've laid the situation out perfectly, so why don't we skip all this nastiness and do the right thing? Why don't we get on with saving lives?"

Abbie took the phone from her ear again. This time she took three long breaths in, held them, released them. She opened her eyes and fixed her gaze on the blank wall ahead. She returned the phone to her ear.

"You know what your problem is, Ben?" Abbie asked.

"Which one?" said Ben. "After all, I'm only human. I imagine I'm riddled with faults."

Abbie ignored this.

"You think you know me. Worse,