wonder why those four hired me. I'm the only one can handle your dry sarcasm."
"My sarcastic tendencies are nowhere close—" I started to argue before his words clicked. "Wait, what?! The guys hired you?"
"Omarion Davis. Secret Op Agent and Prison Investigator."
I paused to take in his words. "So, you're a double agent!"
"No."
"Sounds like a double agent to me."
"Are you dumb, or were you genuinely so shocked by my name that you missed out on the rest of my explanation?"
"I'm a smart cookie, but your name reminds me of that R&B singer from the 2000's. The one that sang the Ice Box song. Good music to fuck to."
"I'm leaving."
"Wait, don't abandon me! Isn't it your job to stay here and protect me?"
"Yes, but I have a limit to your silly remarks."
"It's what I do when I'm nervous and trying to process everything at once," I revealed. "Can't I at least eat and think, seeing as we're not enemies? Please?"
He was annoyed and exhausted, but he finally stopped spinning his keys and helped uncuff me.
"Thank all the gods in the sky." I sighed in relief and didn't even wait for his permission as I took the tray, placed it on my lap, and dived right in, hands and all.
"I brought utensils," he noted.
"Not essential when you're as hungry as I am," I noted between chowing down chicken and lifting the bowl to slurp some of the delicious tomato parmesan soup.
"If prison serves amazing food like this, I'll survive."
"It doesn't, but nice observation. I'm a good cook."
"You made this?" I gawked at him.
"With magic, yes. Not hard when you know the essentials and have the ingredients in the fridge."
"Tristan will love you," I voiced. "He should be on your team."
"He is," Omarion revealed. "Another reason why I'm here."
"Hold on." I paused in my frantic eating. "Was my kidnapping a setup?"
"No." He grew stern and serious while he shook his head side to side. "That shit was planned and executed by the same people who are kidnapping supernaturals left and right. They must have sent human kidnappers for you, but soon realized you’re a harder fish to catch."
"Wait! I know—"
"Not here," he declared. "Yes, we know what's happening, but the walls have ears and we shouldn't share details that could help us solve this."
Oops. Sorry, Secret Agent of Food Heaven.
I was quiet for a few seconds before returning to my food. Omarion silently watched me, and when I finished, I wondered what to say.
"So...how am I going to get out of here?" I whispered and looked over to him. "You guys know what's going on...but...well..."
How do I tell him I'm a potential supernatural but have no proof and my ass ended up here because I ran out over the guys dropping that stupid 'we're ditching you' bomb?
"We don't know all the details, or at least I don't. I was hired immediately when it became public knowledge you were missing. Tristan was assigned to be my trainee partner, and this is now our case."
"Then...why aren't we getting out of here?"
"Looks like you may be more useful inside here."
"Useful?" I arched an eyebrow at him. "Imprisoned in this place? I hope you're misinterpreting my value, Omarion, because so far, I'm as good as a lab rat. Not any use in whatever investigation you guys are conducting."
"Maybe yes, maybe no." He crossed his arms over his chest. "For now, it's not going to be simple to get out of here, so you might as well cozy up and get used to that uniform."
"Seriously?"
I'm going to die here. I can feel it in my bones.
“At least get me a bra or two?”
He was silent, and I groaned in misery. “My girls are doomed to shrivel and die.”
“Dramatic,” he grumbled and cleared his throat. "I'm one of the guards assigned to you. Your cell is going to be on Level One, so you don't have it bad. That's the level where they put the weak ones and random nut cases. You'll be fine."
"That doesn't make this any better," I growled. "Also, I'm not weak! I can kick some great ass if I want to."
"Sure." He brushed it off like my kickboxing experience was nothing. "I have a kill record of a thousand and twenty, but you don't see me tooting my horn."
The room fell silent as I gave him a displeased look.
"I can see why you don't have a girlfriend," I grumbled in annoyance, giving up proving my point. Who knew if he had one or not. I just