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“How long have you been fucking my man? Well, now my ex.”
He still looked frightened, but he answered me. “This is only the second time. I didn’t know he had someone. I swear, I wouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry. I truly am.”
That bit of information almost made me lose my shit. “You didn’t tell him you had a boyfriend? What if I was crazy, Devin? What if I came in here and tried to shoot both of y’all? He had no clue you were involved with someone? You ain’t shit. You really ain’t shit. Don’t worry…” I looked back at the man, who was busy getting his clothes from the floor and hastily putting them on, “I’m not crazy, and I won’t be shooting anyone.”
“Can I leave? I don’t want any trouble.” He was trembling. That let me know Devin really hadn’t told him about me. How did I not know I was with a sorry excuse for a man for two years?
“Yes, you can go. I promise I’m not gonna hurt you.” I stepped to the side, giving him room to leave. As he passed, he made eye contact with me and mouthed,I’m sorry.
When I heard the front door close, I looked back at Devin. He sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. I remained by the door, staring at him. I may not have wanted to fight for this relationship, but I would get things off my chest. He would know how this made me feel.
“If you wanted to be with other people, you could have told me you were unhappy. I wouldn’t have liked it, but I would have respected it. Instead, you bring a random man back to the home we share. You don’t even have the decency to let him know he’s a sneaky link. So not only did you fuck me over, you fucked him over. For two years, you made me feel safe and secure. Now I feel like all of that was a lie. Was it a lie, Devin? What happened? Why would you do this to us?” I was on the verge of tears, but I held them in. He didn’t deserve my tears. He didn’t deserve my hurt and my pain. He deserved my anger and disdain.
“I’m sorry. It was a mistake. I didn’t mean—”
“A mistake is forgetting creamer in my coffee, Devin. A mistake is forgetting to put clothes in the dryer after they’re finished in the wash. A mistake is forgetting to put the cap back on the toothpaste. You don’t make a mistake by fucking somebody else in our bed!” My voice was a shout by the time I was done. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths to calm myself as much as the situation allowed.
I opened my eyes and pegged him with a hard look. “I’m going to Cass’ house. I will be gone for the night. I need you gone tomorrow so I can pack my things. You won’t like what will happen if you’re here. I can’t stand the fucking sight of you, and I’m keeping my composure because I don’t want to go to jail. But if you are here tomorrow, I won’t be responsible for my actions. Do. Not. Be. Here.” I punctuated the last four words so he would know how serious I was. I was not a loose cannon by any means, but I was over the edge, and if he wasn’t gone while I was packing, I knew I would hurt him.
Before he could say another cliché cheating bullshit excuse, I turned my back on him and headed to the living room. Cass looked anxious but stood as soon as I came in sight.
“You okay?” she asked rhetorically.
“Can I crash with you tonight? I can’t do this right now.”
“Of course, love. Anything you need. Let’s get you out of here.”
She grabbed me by the elbow and led me out. I was thankful I still had my messenger bag with all my identification and cards in it slung over my shoulder. I was too spaced out to remember anything after that emotional rollercoaster.
Like I said, if I had known what my day was going to be like, I would have stayed in bed.
Chapter2
Lucas
The Division Director, SSA Green, shook my hand and said, “Agent Blackwell, thanks for coming.” He was a big man, at least six-five, with a stocky frame similar to my height and build. Just what you’d expect the FBI Division Director of the South Carolina field office to look like. His mahogany-brown skin was the same complexion as mine, so looking at him gave me a more intimate look into how I might look sitting behind this very same desk if I worked hard enough. SSA Green was the best of the best as far as directors went. He was my third, and by far, the one I looked up to the most.
“No problem, sir.” I knew why I was here. And if the Division Director was calling me into his office, it was worse than I or anyone else thought.
“Have a seat, have a seat.” I took the seat directly in front of his desk, both hands on my thighs, back straight. “Sitting at attention” as the Army would say. “Now, as you know, the Darkstream Killer has been sentenced to eight life sentences in the ADX Florence. I was one of the people to escort him behind those bars myself. You and your team did excellent work.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The Darkstream Killer was a sick fuck who kidnapped girls in rural areas of South Carolina and Georgia and took them to a warehouse to be tortured and killed on an offshoot of the dark web called the Darkstream. On the Darkstream, every kind of video you could think of existed—torture, animal cruelty, bestiality—you name it, it was there. We got lucky when we were able to start a trace on the Darkstream Killer after the third victim. Unfortunately, five other women died before we could get a lock on his location.
His name was Kenny Bush. A twenty-eight-year-old incel who decided he’d kill all the women he saw who reminded him of the first woman who rejected him. So short, fair-skinned women with short brown hair were targets. That left the door open for a lot of women. He was so proud of his work that during interrogation, he gave up everything. Unfortunately, during the interrogation, he’d also taunted me a little too much, and my fist flew into his jaw. From there, I saw red. I had a little sister. And even though we’re Black and the Darkstream Killer targeted young white women, it could have easily been her with another sadistic killer. And if I knew her killer was bragging about murdering her for millions to see, I would have wanted the officer interrogating him to pop him one too.
I wasn’t usually a hothead. There had been times when I lost my temper but not enough for anyone to worry about my mental state. But that fucking guy got under my skin with his nonchalant attitude after taking eight lives. I hated him, and I wanted him to feel at least some of the pain he put his victims through. It had taken three other agents to pull me off of him, and by the time they had him loaded on a stretcher, I knew my career was fucked.
I learned about the possibility of being an FBI agent at my transition brief before I left active duty. More than ten years later, I was still at the Bureau, trying to work my way to the top. My parents and sister thought I was a regular beat cop. They still worried, but not as much as they would if they knew what type of shit I dealt with daily, especially if they knew I was involved in this case.
It had been national news, with it only coming to our attention because someone posted a snippet of his first video to Facebook. Had that not happened, who knows how many more victims there would have been before we pieced together that the murders were connected? Although the women looked similar, their causes of death differed—a strangulation, some stabbed, some shot. It took us a while to figure it out, but we did. And we got him. We got him, and I tried to stomp him into the floor, which is why I was in this office.
SSA Green sighed. “Listen. I understand what happened in there. I know you and your team had to watch the video of those girls being tortured and murdered. I know how hard you worked to put that fucker behind bars. Which is the only reason I’m not recommending that you be suspended without pay immediately, pending an investigation. It’s a tough gig we have, and mentally, it can weigh heavily on us. So I’m ordering you to take thirty days of leave. I know you have it. I looked at your personnel file. You’ve only been on vacation twice in five years. That’s unacceptable. Even if we had use or lose, you have more than enough days to take a month. And this isn’t a request. I can see in your eyes that you want to argue with me. But you won’t, will you?”
“No, sir. You’re correct. This case was…” I took a deep breath, trying to get my jumbled thoughts together. “This case was tough. I have a little sister. There could be someone out there who wanted to hurt her. And the way he bragged about it… I… I lost it. And I apologize for my actions.” I meant every word. This case had been the worst one I had ever been on. Of course, there were worse that the Bureau saw, like the sex crimes department, which was hands down the worst of them all. But we never saw murders happen before our eyes. And when we saw it, it fucked us up in different ways. I had been having nightmares for months about them. That probably contributed to me beating the suspect to a pulp. SSA Green must have pulled some major strings to get me off with vacation.
“Also, I’m ordering you to attend mandatory therapy sessions with one of the mandated FBI therapists for the next six months.”
