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“Okay, I’m going to shower then meet with Chief Holt before I go home.”
Matt jumps in my way, cupping my cheek, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Hey, call me if you need anything. Seriously. I know it’s against the rules and shit, but fucking call me. You hear me?”
The thought of being away from the only family I have left causes my heart to ache. “I will. Promise. I’ll see you when this is all over and I can go back to kicking your ass every day,” I tease. We joke around a lot, but I know he’d do anything for me at the drop of a hat if I needed it.
“In your dreams, baby. Now go get a shower, you stink.” He pushes me, nudging me to go. When I turn to walk away, he gives me a playful smack on the ass. I can’t stand looking back at my best friend right now, so I just shake my head at his crazy antics and walk out of the gym.
* * *
Not even botheringto dry my hair, I throw on a pair of khakis and a black long-sleeved shirt before heading toward Chief Holt’s office. I may not have any blood family left, but Matt and Chief are the closest things to family I have. They’ve been my support since joining the FBI.
They’ve always been here when I need them the most.
Knocking on the door, I wait to hear his demanding, “Come in,” before pushing it open and moving into the room.
“Ah, Agent Stone. I thought you forgot about our meeting,” he says, staring down at the file he’s reading. He can always tell it’s me without looking, like he’s got some weird sixth sense. His voice is flat and seems cold, but that’s just Chief Holt. I know he likes me, but sometimes his blank stare makes me question it.
“No, sir. Just got caught up training with Agent Davis. I apologize.” It always feels weird to not call my best friend by his first name.
“Don’t let it happen again. Shut the door and have a seat,” he says, gesturing toward the black chair in front of his matte black desk. Everything in here is so dark, only existing in black. I don’t think he knows any other color exists.
I pull the door closed behind me and sink down into the chair, waiting for him to speak again.
“You ready?” he asks, finally looking up from his file.
“Yes, sir. I’ve got my apartment all set up, my fake ID, my FBI-issued laptop, and my burner phone,” I confirm.
“Good. Now tell me the plans so I can assure myself you won’t mess this up.”
We’ve been going over this plan for weeks, I could recite it in my dreams.
“I’m supposed to live out a normal life as Courtney Thompson,a cosmetologist, originally from Jersey, but I moved to Cincinnati to be closer to my family. I will find the suspects and do whatever I have to do to get close to them. Once I find solid evidence of who’s making people disappear along with their money, then I’ll call you, and we’ll set up the arrest,” I ramble.
“Perfect. Remember—no communication with any of us until you have something solid to pin the people doing this. We can’t risk this operation being a bust,” Chief barks out.
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, tell me the order of importance of our suspects.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Ross Novak, Travis Johnson, and James Smith.”
“You’re ready. I trust you, Agent Stone. You’re a strong and talented agent. You’ll have these criminals locked up in no time.”
He stands and reaches for my hand. Rising from my seat, I firmly grip his hand in mine. The care in his eyes shatters the hard exterior he portrays every day. He won’t admit it, but he’s got a soft spot for all his agents, never wanting to see any of them put in more danger than needed.
“Be careful out there, Agent.”
I nod before walking out of the office toward my new temporary life.
Blood-curdling screams echo off the concrete walls with the sound of flesh slicing filling my ears. Deep crimson red, coming from the sobbing man in front of me, paints the room.
His deep brown hair is in disarray, while his pale face is lined by tears coming from his hazy blue eyes.
So weak. So easy to break.
Tonight's entertainment is provided by none other than Jake Martinez. He should have a rap sheet longer than the California coastline that includes assault, battery, and domestic violence, but unfortunately, he’s squeaky clean in the eyes of the law. Just another trust fund baby that Daddy helps get out of trouble any time he makes anothermistake.
There’s one particular crime he weaseled his way out of that has my blood boiling, filling me with uncontainable rage. One that he’s paying the price for with his own blood tonight.
