“This isn’t up for debate. They wanted the best agent within an eight year age bracket, they picked the best agents across every department, sending the top ten to Senator Spencer, and he picked you specifically! You were the only graduate to be considered. You should consider this a great honour,” Weston said persuasively.

I growled in frustration. “Why are we even getting involved? If she’s the daughter of a Senator then this should be secret service, not us,” I countered.

He sighed. “She’s been through most of the guys there, Taylor. Plus, there aren’t that many agents there within the age bracket; most people go into secret service a little further down the line in their careers,” he explained, shrugging. He cocked his head to the side, his eyes boring into mine. “Ashton, it’s just until the end of the court case. Eight months, that’s all. Senator Spencer has guaranteed you your choice of posts after that time. Anything you want, even Front Line.”

My head snapped up at those words. “Seriously?”

He smiled and nodded. “I knew that would get your attention, but I need you to understand that this is a very important job. It may not sound it, but if she dies and the case falls apart, then Carter Thomas will be released and hundreds, if not thousands, of people could be killed over the coming years,” he said gravely.

Right, okay, I get it. Do a good job babysitting for eight months, get dream job. Done! “Okay, I understand, sir.” I was smiling now.

“You can’t tell anyone about this. You’ll need to say you’ve been assigned somewhere out of state. You’ll be undercover with her.” He picked up the file that I’d tossed onto his desk and handed it to me.

I flicked it open again and looked at the picture of the girl. Fuck, I sure hope I get undercover with her! I mused. She was just my type, dark hair and dark eyes, and she was the prettiest damn thing I’d ever seen. I couldn’t tell what her body was like because she was wearing baggy jeans and a hoodie, but her face was so beautiful that she could be a supermodel.

“Okay, make sure you read the briefing file. There’s a DVD in there too, which is the security footage of her old school and the reason she got expelled. Like I said, she’s kind of a badass; the reasons for it are in the file, which doesn’t make for good bedtime reading.” He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck as he said it. I looked down at the file nervously, wondering what could be so bad that Weston was all jittery and uncomfortable about it. “Right, well I guess that’s all. I’ve mocked up a fake assignment for you in case people ask. A flight has been booked for you for tomorrow morning and your tickets are in the back of the file. Pack casual; they’ll have stuff waiting there for you too, so don’t go too overboard with the clothes. Only a few people are in the loop on this due to the sensitivity of it; they’re not sure if there’s a leak in one of the departments, so if you need anything, you call either me or Commander Erikson. His details are in the back of the file. Good luck, Ashton,” he said finally.

He stood up, holding out his hand to me; I shook it then saluted him respectfully, before walking out the door. Heading around the corner, I pulled out the mock assignment, memorising all of the details before I went to join the party with the other graduates.

I didn’t stay out long with the other boys; my flight was due to leave at eight thirty the next morning, so I had to pack and make sure I was ready to leave. Once in the solitude of my bedroom, I grabbed the file and stretched out on my bed to read it. As I was expecting, it was pretty harrowing.

Annabelle had been held by Carter Thomas for just over ten months. He had thought of her as his girlfriend, even though he was nine years older than her. She hadn’t been allowed to leave his house and he would beat her and mentally torture her. She had tried to kill herself by slitting her wrists when she was first taken and had been found locked in a cupboard – bruised, broken and almost catatonic. She had refused to speak to anyone for two weeks after this, and then her first words were to a police officer, begging him to kill her.

I gulped and flipped to the next page, which showed photos of her the day she was found, and her injuries for the police file. They weren’t nice to look at. Bile rose in my throat at the sight of her swollen and bruised face and arms. The medical report showed she had a freshly broken rib and finger, and old, healed fractures of her ribs, wrist and collarbone.

My heart was beating out of my chest, grieving for the sixteen year old girl who witnessed her boyfriend’s murder and then was abused physically, mentally, and sexually for over ten months.

Three and a half years on, the nice, young girl that everyone loved had turned into a bitter, nasty bitch. She was socially alienated, shying away from all relationships, and emotionally cutting herself off from her friends and family. I wasn’t allowed ‘under any circumstances’ to touch her, unless the need arose in a combat situation. She had attempted suicide on two other occasions, both times by swallowing pills, but someone had found her in time. Both attempts had been on her birthday. I glanced at her date of birth and saw that her next birthday was in six months’ time. I made a mental note to be extra vigilant.

It appeared that Annabelle got into trouble a lot. I pushed the DVD into the player and sat on the floor to watch it, eager to see the reason she was excluded from her last school.

The footage came on, and a classroom came into focus. People were sitting around on desks, talking, obviously waiting for their lessons to start. I spotted her immediately; she was wearing baggy jeans and a baggy sweatshirt. As she walked past a guy who was laughing with his friends, he slapped her ass.