Page 9 of Breakaway

I’ve been so afraid to hope for this day, that residual fear that Veritas has ingrained in each of us overshadowing the possibility of it becoming a reality. But I don’t want to become another name in their long list of casualties. I want a life. I want the option of choices and to find my way in a world that seems to have forgotten I exist. I want to hug the three men whose support has never wavered, and thank them profusely for shouldering my baggage when it threatened to crush me beneath its weight. And to do any of that, I need out of this fucking box! A rage-filled scream claws its way up my throat, but I force it back, knowing what little oxygen we have is too precious to waste. So I lie there, at the mercy of the officers who should be canvassing the compound by now, and will our clock not to expire before someone finds us.

It feels like hours have passed when I finally blink my eyes back open. It’s unbearably hot, and I’m growing worried that Hudson isn’t sleeping because he’s tired. I shift him off of me, brushing his sweat-slicked hair from his face. Our combined body heat is only making the situation worse. I hate to think of all the insects who’ve decided to make a home here, so I redirect my thoughts to something more productive than feeding my panic. The slight sound of my shuffling almost obscures it, but a faint noise catches my attention. I strain to listen, and after several agonizing seconds, I’m certain it’s the steady cadence of voices. They’re distant, and there’s no way for me to know if they’re friend or foe, but I seize the opportunity, knowing it might be our only way out of here.

“Hello?” I choke out, struggling to clear my throat and try again. “Is someone there?!” Hudson stirs, but even my raised voice isn’t enough to wake him fully. Using every ounce of strength I possess, I flatten my hands and push against the top of the sarcophagus as hard as I can. It refuses to budge, but I try again. And again. Tears stain my face, but I’ll be damned if I leave this world without a fight.

“Help! Please, we’re in here!” My ears begin to ring, my throat growing raw, and still I scream. For myself, but more importantly, for the child beside me, who’s yet to experience life or even learn to tie his shoes. My hands throb from banging them against the unforgiving surface, but hope fills me when it creaks in protest. A second later, light filters in, illuminating the stunned faces of several police officers. Their jaws are slack with shock, but my relieved cry sends them scrambling into motion.

“Let’s take it nice and slow.” The soothing voice of the woman attempting to help us does little to calm me, but I grasp her offered hand like a lifeline, my stiff limbs groaning in protest as I force myself into motion. A second officer begins tending to Hudson, but the moment he becomes aware of his surroundings, he starts to flail, his arms outstretched as he struggles to reach me. He settles once I have him, and only then do I fully process what's happening all around us. There’s an influx of officers coming and going from The Atrium, and I rapidly scan their faces in hopes of finding Raiden. My hands start to shake when I realize he’s nowhere to be found, so I fist them in the back of Hudson’s shirt to keep the trembling at bay.

“Ma’am, we have paramedics on site. They’ll need to check you both.” I scan the woman in front of me, eyeing her lack of uniform.

Sensing how reluctant I am, she pulls a badge from her back pocket, casually producing the piece of evidence I was searching for. She smiles in understanding but keeps her distance as she leads us outside. When the bright rays of early morning sunlight heat my face, it causes me to squint, briefly shading the chaos unfolding across the compound. My steps slow, and with my head tilted back, I close my eyes and commit this moment to memory. In fifty years, I’ll still remember the way I feel right now.

Vindicated.

Powerful.

Free.

Shaking off my reverie, I nod to the woman waiting patiently, matching my steps with hers as we traverse through the maze of detainments taking place. It feeds my vengeance-starved heart to see so many Elders on their knees, hands bound behind their backs as they’re forced to witness the decimation of their precious little cult. If their Divine exists, he’s forsaken them. Their comeuppance is long overdue, and one can only hope this is just the beginning. I straighten my stance, leeching back the power they never had a right to, determined to prove they haven’t broken me beyond repair.

After being escorted to an ambulance stationed inside the front gate, we patiently wait for our turn to be seen. Hudson is restless, pressing his face against my chest to escape the cacophony of sounds assaulting him. He’s endured far too much in such a short time, but it won’t be long until he’s reunited with his father, and that tiny hope of something good awaiting us helps to bolster my strength. As a paramedic waves us over, an officer approaches and intercepts before he can begin his assessment. His gaze is fixated on Hudson as he rapidly fires off a slew of questions, and once he’s officially confirmed his identity, he quickly rings his boss to pass along the news.

“Can you tell me if Detective Cortés is here?” I politely ask, but the second the words leave my mouth, a scuffle breaks out on the opposite side of the gate.

“Where the hell are they?!”

My body thrums to life at the sound of that achingly familiar voice. Yelling ensues, but the officer I’d been speaking with steps away to assist, leaving me unattended. I follow behind him, ignoring the paramedic’s request for me to stay put until I’ve been cleared by medical. The moment my feet breach the threshold of the compound, the invisible tether tying me to a life I never asked for snaps free. I glance at the ground, baffled by the difference a few inches can make. My toes flex, pressing against the dirt that doesn’t belong to anyone, least of all Veritas.

Looking up, the first thing I see is Detective Cortés. He’s frazzled, pacing back and forth as he scrubs a hand through his hair. An older male attempts to speak with him, but his agitation bleeds over, causing a string of expletives to fly from his mouth. A watery smile quirks my lips at the inventive phrases he’s hurling at no one in particular. He hangs his head, but then his gaze shifts to the side, our eyes connecting, as if a force greater than either of us has alerted him to my presence.

“Raiden?” My voice is barely audible over the melee, but the shift in his demeanor is instantaneous.

It took me weeks before I’d call him by his first name, preferring to keep our relationship strictly professional. This day was never guaranteed, and attaching myself to someone I might never see again wouldn’t have been healthy for my emotional state. Regardless of best-laid plans, I shared things with him I’ve never uttered to another living person. He listened without complaint, but furthermore, he believed every implausible story I confided in him. So right now, I need the comfort of the man who’s made the last seven months somewhat bearable. I need him to hold my pieces together while I fall apart, just for a moment, and then I’ll steel my spine and don the mask I’ve gotten so good at wearing. But for a few blessed seconds, I desperately need the sense of safety that being held tightly in his arms will afford me.

7

Raiden

It’s been a grueling eight hours trying to work out the logistics of raiding Veritas’ forty-acre property, but every exhausting second I’ve spent working this case is more than worth it when I finally catch a glimpse of Andi as she appears at the opening of the compound. Hudson Taylor is cradled protectively in her arms, her hand braced on the back of his head. She mouths my name, the slightest hint of a smile forcing its way through. I push past Chief O’Connor, ignoring his reprimand for my insubordination, my sights locked solely on Andi. My eyes scan every inch of her in the seconds it takes me to erase the space between us. Aside from a few scrapes, she looks to be in good health, but I know with heartbreaking certainty that her deepest wounds won’t manifest in a physical sense.

We collide so forcefully I stumble backward, then sink to my knees when Andi deflates and her entire body sags against mine, as if she knows she’s finally safe enough to let her guard down. I’ve never felt such an overwhelming sense of pride as I do in this moment, knowing that Andi feels secure enough to break under the knowledge that I’ll be here to piece her back together. That I’ll protect her image and dignity from being scrutinized by any onlookers. Intending to do just that, I curl myself around the two of them, giving her a semblance of privacy.

“Thank fuck,” I mumble on an exhale, breathing in the scent of her.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Andi jests, the rigidity of her posture making me want to cart her away from here as quickly as possible.

“You have no idea.”

When her message came through late last night, I went into work mode immediately. The proof we’d been waiting for was finally in the palm of my hand, and I wasn’t going to waste a precious second of the rapidly dwindling window we were up against. We’d spent countless hours implementing a plan for when the moment finally came, but nothing really prepares you for the real thing. Emotions are heightened, adrenaline is wreaking havoc on your body, and through it all, it’s imperative you remain levelheaded so you can think logically when those plans inevitably need to be altered. Andi and Hudson being the last ones retrieved certainly put a chink in the way things were supposed to pan out, which might’ve caused me to have a brief lapse in sanity when my fear and frustration got the better of me, and I lashed out at my superior.

“Cortés!” Chief barks, the angry set of his stride making it obvious to anyone with eyes what kind of mood he’s in. “Quit drawing attention and get them to the damn hospital. We’re in the process of making contact with the boy’s father, and I’m sure he’d appreciate knowing the state his kid is in.” Shit. I thought I was doing a decent job of keeping us off anyone’s radar, but the prickly feeling of eyes boring into us clues me in to how naive that possibility was. Andi is the sole reason this investigation ever came to fruition, and every member of law enforcement that’s aided the case in some capacity knows exactly who she is and what she’s sacrificed to get us to this point. But it isn’t their attention I have an issue with.

I dip my chin, taking Andi by the elbow as I steer us towards my truck, but Chief’s comment makes a lot more sense when I catch sight of Tobias Stillwater. He’s glaring at the two of us, his mind making connections I’d prefer it not to, and stupidly, I’m the one who gave him the information he’s using to piece it all together. When no one could find Andi, I lost my shit and demanded he tell us what he’d done with them. Not Hudson–them. As far as he knows, the only reason we’d be here today is if he made a mistake. And maybe he did, but we’re yet to come across it.

If it weren’t for Andi, we’d have no idea about the things taking place within these walls. We’d still buy their produce at the Sunday market, completely oblivious to the heinous crimes they’d commit just hours later. If not for her bravery, there’s no telling how many lives would have been lost this year alone. His brazen stare causes her to stiffen, but I shift my weight, positioning myself so she’s hidden from view.

Once the two of them are safely buckled in–Hudson still wrapped in Andi’s arms since I have no car seat to secure him in–I close the door and round the hood of my truck. I purposely seek out Tobias, knowing he’s watching and unable to bite back the satisfied smirk that graces my lips at seeing him bound in handcuffs. It’s stupid of me to give him any more ammunition, but a part of me delights in watching his fury take root, knowing I’m about to drive away with what he perceives as his. I hold his icy gaze for far too long, but I want him to know, with certainty, that the woman he tried to break is the sole reason he’s on his knees right now. That everything he thought he’d claimed as his is going to be nothing but rubble by the time we’re done with it. I mouth a fuck you, not the least bit shocked when he snarls and thrashes his arms in an effort to free himself.