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This isn’t right.
The second my Uber pulls up to the address Agent Rose sent me to, I know something is off. Before I can tell the driver to keep going, to get me the hell out of here, Rose has stomped out of the dilapidated office building and is wrenching open my door.
“Out.”
“I’d prefer if we did this at headquarters. Like last time.” True, the last time I met with Agent Rose, he ushered me in through a backdoor and straight into an interrogation room, but I figured he didn’t want the paparazzi to get wind that they were questioning me. Now it’s me who is questioning everything.
Did I see any markings in the dark hallways and interrogation room to indicate I was truly in the FBI field office? The building we had been in was near Federal Plaza, but Rose said they didn’t do actual FBI business in the building everyone thinks of as the center for FBI in New York. He said I was silly for thinking all those important people would be housed in such an obvious building, with its address listed on Google.
Now I’m thinking I was silly for listening to anything he has ever said.
I shrink against the opposite door, but Agent Rose leans in and drags me out by the arm. The Uber driver yells and starts to get out of the car, but the guy manhandling me slaps his FBI badge on the roof of the car and levels the obviously foreign driver with a death stare. “Get back in the car and drive away. This woman is under federal investigation, and unless you want the same treatment, I suggest you forget this ever happened.”
The man hesitates, I send a pleading look his way, all the while pulling at Rose’s grip on my arm. But the driver ducks back into the car and drives away. I don’t blame him. I don’t want to be involved in this mess either.
“Are you even a real FBI agent?” Strangely proud to hear the strength in my voice, I look up at the man I’m pretty sure is going to kill me and refuse to back down.
“I was. But then your dad fucked all that up for me.” His grip on my arms tightens, and he drags me to the door of the building practically falling down before us.
I scramble to keep up with his pace but fall to my knees. Not giving a shit, the so-called agent keeps going, scraping my bare knees along the pavement until he yanks me back to my feet. The warm trickle of blood rolls down my leg, and pain lances through my limbs.
Why did I bother getting dressed in my most professional outfit for this? Did I really think a pencil skirt and a blouse worn with killer pink heels would make a difference in whether my name got cleared of my father’s ill deeds? It seems so ridiculous now.
Shame washes over me, souring my stomach and causing tears to prickle behind my eyes. I’ve been so stupid. Never questioned not ever seeing another FBI agent. Never questioned the lack of communication. Refusing to let Scott hire me a lawyer to help fight the FBI investigation. I let his lawyer set up acorporation for me, so why wouldn’t I let his colleagues look at the FBI stuff too?
Scott’s dark, stormy eyes drift through my mind as I try to ignore the damp, mildewy air permeating the office building around us. I’d do anything to be curled up on the couch in the recording studio, watching as Scott works out the lyrics to songs with his band.
I’m jarred out of my thoughts when Agent Rose slams me down into a hard metal chair. The place is cold, the concrete floors and bare walls not helping to warm the room. This obviously used to be some sort of call center. There are cubicles coming apart and scattered around the space and wires hanging from the ceiling every ten feet or so. Takeout food boxes and dirty clothes litter the floor. A pile of blankets in one corner makes me think Rose has been sleeping here. Beside me is a long folding table with a couple laptops, phones, some drugs, and a gun scattered on the top. I eye up the gun, wondering if I can get to it without the asshole noticing.
“Is this the part where I ask you how my father ruined your FBI career and you spill all the information like a Scooby-Doo villain?” Agent Rose drags his fingers through his hair every few seconds, his foot tapping out an agitated rhythm on the floor as he shuffles equipment around on the table. Maybe if I can distract him enough, I can get to the gun and get the fuck out of this mess. “Because that never works out well for the bad guy.”
“I’m not the bad guy in this scenario, you little bitch.” He picks up one of the phones and frantically punches out a text or something as he rants. “I’m the fall guy. Your father, his friends who think they have too much power to be touched, are the bad guys. But thankfully, you are just dumb enough to not question my position with the bureau, so now, you are going to be the new patsy.”
“All you had to do was say, yes, this is the point where I give away my plan.” Fear and adrenaline pump through my veins, but I somehow stop the emotions from making themselves known in my voice.Scott. Just keep thinking about Scott, and I’ll get through this.Back to him.
Flipping open one of the laptops at the opposite end of the table, Agent Rose mumbles something under his breath, but I can’t hear everything. Pretty sure he’s calling me a bitch. Whatever.
“You got something I can clean up this blood with? These shoes may not be Jimmy Choo, but they are still cute as hell, and it would suck to get bloodstains on them.” I stand up and walk towards the table. My legs feel like jelly, and I fist my hands to keep the tremors from showing.
“Sit the fuck back down, princess, unless you want me to tie you up.” Venom laces his voice, and spit sprays onto the screen inches away from his face. But he keeps typing away on the laptop, not bothering to even glance at me.Idiot.
I love when people underestimate me.
“No thanks. My boyfriend ties me up. He wouldn’t like it if someone else tried to take that honor from him.” I bend down to pick up a towel from the ground, pinching it at the corner because it looks like it’s covered in various bodily fluids. My already churning stomach turns over, and I fight to keep my lunch from making another appearance. “If I use this to clean up my leg, am I going to get herpes? Best not risk it.”
I toss the rag onto the table. Right over the gun.
I lean on the edge of the table, trying to look at what he’s doing, while also sneaking my hand under the towel. “You searching for porn? Don’t you know all those girls are part of the trafficking trade? I did research after those lovely pictures you showed me last time. Turns out there’s a thing called ethicalporn. You should investigate that. You can watch pretty girls get drilled by big cocks without the guilt. Pretty awesome stuff.”
Just as I slide my fingers over the cold metal of the gun, Agent Rose whirls around and pins me back against the table. His hot, rancid breath washes over my face, and I’m suddenly flung back to the memories of the night in the alley. Being trapped between the hard brick wall and the panting vagrant. The feel of his body pressing into me as I fought to get away. The memories steal my breath.
“You think I give a shit about those girls? The ones your father helps send to men just as rich and twisted as he is? They don’t matter. We’re all just cogs in the twisted machine men like Frank fucking Falluci control. They twist and manipulate people to further their own agendas and don’t give a shit about the consequences. Then when shit hits the fan, they hop on their private jets and escape to tropical islands where they can pay to be protected from extradition.”
He leans closer, his lips brushing against my cheek as I wrench my head as far to the side as it will go. “They leave us behind. You. Me. None of it matters to them. At first, I thought I could threaten your life, and your dad would care enough to take me with him. But turns out, Daddy doesn’t love his little girl. Only loves his millions. So, instead, I’m making you take the fall for me.”
Rose backs off, moving back to the laptop. For a moment, I just lie there on the table. Gathering my breath. Shaking off the cloak of fear. Allowing hot anger to pour over me like wax from a candle. I’m not that girl anymore. The girl who worries more about the things around me than the people. The girl that didn’t know fear or struggle. She was weak. I never will be again.
I close my hand around the gun. The rough texture of the grip calms me. Shoots power into my muscles. Agent Rose. The guy in the alley. The fucking actor who groped me all those years ago.They might be able to overpower me with their bigger bodies, but they can’t break me.
