Jason rolled his eyes, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter as he tried—and failed—to tune out your voice.

God, does this ever end?

He should have known better. The moment he heard your name attached to this mission, he should have walked away, no matter how good the offer was. But the payout had been very convincing, and Jason never was the type to turn down easy money.

Now, though? He regretted every second of it.

Being stuck on a job with his self-declared enemy was already bad enough, but being stuck in a car with you? Listening to your nonstop commentary, your sharp remarks, your sheer ability to exist in the most irritating way possible? That was a special kind of torture.

“Shut up,” he muttered, jaw tight as his eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead. He had half a mind to turn up the radio just to drown you out, but knowing you, you’d probably just talk louder.

Then, after a beat, he scoffed. “How the hell did you even survive our last meeting? Last time I saw you, I pushed you off a building.”

Jason didn’t bother hiding the irritation in his tone. He didn’t expect an answer—he wasn’t even sure he wanted one. What he did want, though, was for you to not be here, because this mission was already bad enough without the reminder that you were somehow still alive.

You should have stayed there, he thought, but for once, he bit his tongue.