My Bad Boy's Secret: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance (35 page)

              I received a scholarship to attend Mississippi’s most prestigious private school, and I jumped at the chance. I got to leave my foster parents and take more challenging classes. I studied hard, but all my previous classes were dreadfully easy. I enjoyed the more rigorous environment. I hated all the entitled rich kids I attended school with. They did whatever they wanted without any fear of the consequences, bullied everyone around them, adults included, and spent money like there was no tomorrow. I enjoyed pranking and scaring them into being more cautious. As usual, the girls hated me for getting all the male attention and not giving a fuck about their cliques and social rules, as if I cared about who I ate lunch with or whose parties I went to. I beat up any bitch who tried to make my life difficult, but I discovered that putting dog shit in their makeup or cutting up their credit cards were much more effective ways of hurting them. I scared the girls shitless soon. Boys tried to ask me out, but I always refused. Not one of them impressed me. Some of them got impatient with me. Others were pigs from the start. Either way, they ended up having their bones broken and cars totaled by me.

              I was growing up to be hateful and malevolent, and I loved it. I had long abandoned things like forgiveness, sympathy, or kindness. If someone treated me well, I would treat them better. If someone treated me badly, I would treat them even worse. Life taught me that no one would ever help me and that nothing good ever came from backing down. I loved finding new ways to ruin peoples’ lives. I became adept at spying and sneaking. I studied hacking and uncovered dark secrets about my peers, and exposed them to watch the mayhem unfold. Some people quit school, went to rehab, or even tried killing themselves. Some succeeded. The teachers and administrators appreciated my work. They were just as disgusted with the privileged little shits as I was, and liked seeing them endure some misfortune for once in their coddled lives.

              I graduated as valedictorian, and I was president of half a dozen student societies and clubs. I was a star athlete, I had the highest SAT scores of my class, and I had taken 12 AP classes and passed all of them with flying colors. My high school record was one that most people dreamed of. I applied only to the Ivy League universities and was accepted to most of them. I chose Harvard University, of course.

              If I disliked my fellow high school students, I despised my fellow university students. Granted, I didn’t attend Harvard for the wonderful people there. It lived up to its reputation as the hub of elitist WASPs and obscenely wealthy creeps who never knew what true hardship was. They spent their whole lives relaxing on their asses and having nice things handed to them. Every Harvard student is intensely full of him or herself, and insists on regarding themselves as God’s gift to the world. Kicking the asses of those chickenhearted bookworms was too easy.

              I hated everything about Harvard. I hated the location, the students, the faculty, the culture, the atmosphere, and the recreation. Nevertheless, the one thing I didn’t hate was the education. It was an education second to none, and I tried to learn everything I could. When I wasn’t reading textbooks to study, I was reading books for leisure. I graduated
magna cum laude
with double majors in Classics and Computer Science. Don’t think that just because I didn’t major in them, I didn’t become an expert in other fields as well. By the time I graduated in three years, I was an authority on science, technology, history, engineering, literature, psychology, culture, sociology, sports, and every other subject under the sun. I knew more than most professors. I spoke ten languages fluently, I could compose a symphony, and I could conduct scientific research to build a nuclear missile or compile an organism’s genetic code. I was capable of doing anything. In one decade, I evolved from a hick to a polymath. The future was my oyster. I dare you to still tell me that I’m not the biggest success story you ever heard of. Like Gatsby, I reinvented myself, and I was not going to let anything stop me from rising to the top.

              By this time, I hadn’t used my birth name in years. Inspired by Gatsby, I abandoned my original name, which smacked of failure. I was born Darleen Jenkins, and I couldn’t go through life with that hillbilly name. I needed something classy and memorable, something that bore no relation to who I was. I had no good memories associated with that name. Being called that always meant that I was going to be victimized. After some searching and debating, I rechristened myself McKenna Addison. I was born anew, and I regarded Darleen Jenkins as dead. As far as I was concerned, she never existed. I truly began to live when I became McKenna Addison.

              I must admit that I was a bit uncertain of what to do with myself after I graduated. I considered law school or medical school, and ultimately chose law school. After being exploited for so long, I wanted a career where I could help victims and punish predators. Besides, medical school required prerequisites I would have to take. Law school bored and disappointed me, with its repetitive work, mendacious students, and callous professors. The class was divided between far-right loons wallowing in privilege and paranoid social justice loons. Nobody was really interested in pursuing justice. The real goal was making money. The prospect of working in law now disgusted me.

              The FBI had attempted to recruit me during my undergraduate days. They said they were impressed by my record; they knew about my fights, spying, and academic achievements, and said that they were the perfect place to use my talents. I declined at first. After graduating from law school, the Bureau called me again, and this time, I accepted. I initially preferred the CIA, but the FBI promised that their work included both intelligence gathering and physical challenges ideal for me.

              The recruitment process excited me. While other prospective agents were terrified and unaccustomed to using guns and fighting, I treated violence like a game, and always got the highest ratings. I could tell the recruiters were pleased. I impressed them by always being able to tell when someone was lying. I passed every exam with flying colors. I could interrogate, write reports, defuse explosives, gather evidence, and solve cases beautifully. The recruiters told me that someone of my caliber came only once a decade. For my part, I loved the job. I finally felt appropriately challenged.

              I didn’t even wonder if I would be ultimately recruited or not at Quantico. I knew that I would get in for sure. I started as a junior agent, but in two years I already led my own investigative team. I busted terrorist cells, human trafficking rings, drug cartels, crime syndicates, and all varieties of criminals. I handled kidnapping, child molestation, violence, bombings, extremists, racists, and terrorism. Thanks to me, crime suffered rapid and dramatic declines. The FBI closed triple the number of cases it used to close. People began calling me the agent of the century. I was Sherlock Holmes and Veronica Mars in one. Everyone said that I would be running the entire bureau in a decade.

              Eventually, even being part of the FBI and keeping my country safe wasn’t enough for me. I was starting to get bored again. With my intelligence and skills, I found my job becoming routine and mundane. I started with little knowledge and thought that I would stay intrigued, but after some years on the job, I already knew everything. I even considered quitting. I cared nothing about the prospects of being promoted. Becoming director of the FBI didn’t appeal at all; I’d just get a larger salary and sit in a fancier office, and give more orders to more people.

              Through all of these years, ever since I was a teenager, I was steadfastly single. I never even went on a date. People learned quickly that I didn’t care for romance, and anyone who tried to force me to do anything would deeply regret it. It wasn’t that I was asexual or antisocial. I did think about love and finding someone I cared about. No man or woman, however, ever impressed me. I was smarter, stronger, and better than everyone in everything.

              I received the case of a lifetime when I was assigned to investigate a group known only as the Crew. My group only had rumors to work with. They were made up of only seven people, but they ruled the world. They controlled the entire world’s trade in drugs, guns, and other black market products. Careful to hide their identities, they left no online presence or trail via paper or electronics. Anyone who tried to learn about them, arrest them, or interfere with them invariably ended up dead. Finally, I had a case worthy of me.

              The other agents who worked with me went undercover or managed to dig up some information on the Crew, but over the next couple of years, all of them got killed. They were brutally murdered after their identities were uncovered. I was the only agent left on the case, and I had no choice but to continue their work and go undercover myself.

              I had done undercover work many times, but I felt nervous for the first time. I disguised myself as a con artist who was skilled at seduction and making criminal connections, and met the Crew. Thanks to growing up in the middle of nowhere and living off the grid, I was just as enigmatic as them, and they couldn’t find anything incriminating about me.

              As I spent more time helping the Crew commit crimes and carry out their deeds, I had an epiphany. I grew to admire and love the Crew, and I genuinely wanted to belong to them. I had been wasting my life in society. I at first admonished myself for supporting these criminals, but I concluded that I was the wrong one. These people lived the way I always wanted to live. They were humanity’s best and most perfect people. They followed no one’s rules but their own. It wasn’t their fault that the world had so many ridiculous laws. If they could get away with something, that just meant that they were superior to everyone else, and were justified.

              I decided to banish those thoughts from my mind, and take the Crew down. I had spent years tracking them, and I had plenty of evidence to have them arrested and executed. I wanted to avenge the lives of my agents. One night, I prepared to meet one of the Crew members and subdue him. His name was Jake Strider. Of all the Crew members, he was the only one I could say I loved. I finally encountered a man I would give my life to be with. With everyone else, I had no trouble controlling my emotions. I made everyone else scared of me and impressed enough that they would do my bidding. Around Jake, I acted like a shy and klutzy girl. I couldn’t articulate myself, I lost my train of thought, and I had a massive crush on him that gradually turned to deep and burning love. I was caught between wanting to punish him and wanting to marry him.

              I met Jake at his mansion, and little did I know, he already knew what I was planning. He always knew what was on my mind. Jake was the only person in the world I couldn’t hide from.

              “I know who you really are, McKenna,” he said calmly and quietly as I entered the living room and approached him. He used my real name, not my pseudonym.

              “I know you’re in the FBI. I know you’re on an undercover mission. I know you’ve come to capture or kill me. I know the truth behind every move you’ve made.

              “At any moment together, I could’ve killed you and gotten rid of you like I did with your allies. I could’ve solved this problem, but I didn’t. Do you want to know why?”

              I just nodded, incapable of saying anything.

              “Because try as I might, I can’t hurt you. I didn’t want this to happen, but I love you. I’m in love with you, McKenna Addison. You are infinitely more beautiful than any woman I’ve ever met. I could never see any other woman again in my life and spend every day only with you, and I would be totally happy. If you were to disappear, I would want to disappear from the world too. You are the only person I’ve met who thinks like me. You are just as smart, powerful, and amazing as I am. I never thought that a person like you existed.

              “So you now have a choice, McKenna. Will you ignore your heart and listen to your brain, and bring me to justice? Or will you leave behind the world, and join me? I hope you choose wisely. If you promise to be mine, I will do everything to make you happy. Know that if you choose to arrest me, I will not resist. That is how much I love you. I would sell out my Crew members if it would please you. You were my prisoner during this whole time, McKenna, but I have become imprisoned by you. What is your decision?”

              I thought, and I made my decision. I was done with being a normal person. I knew that being in the Crew was what would make me truly and permanently happy. In the Crew, I faced challenges and events that never ceased to excite me. I pledged allegiance to Jake Strider. I promised to be his lover and confidante, and that I would spend my whole life with him. We kissed and made love for the first time, and swore to belong to each other for eternity.

              I sent my resignation to the FBI, telling them that I was no longer loyal to them or the United States. I stole with me all of my case files I accumulated that would give the Crew valuable intel, and many other files that belonged to the FBI. With my security clearance level, getting anything was as simple as swiping a card. I helped hack and crash the FBI website, and left it incapacitated for months. I embarked on my career as a Crew member, and finally felt alive.