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Resolve settles heavy in me as I gulp down the remnants of liquid, making my way to the bedroom to check my phone for the millionth time.
No missed messages or calls.
Gritting my teeth I navigate to my contacts list, scrolling through the familiar names until I find the one I’m searching for.
My finger hovers over the green call button, trepidation coursing through me as I press it.
It rings once before his voice sounds out from the other line, breaking the silence that had enveloped the room and my breath catches in my throat.
“What can I do for you at this time of night?” My jaw clenches at the teasing tone of Caspian’s voice.
It’s hard to forget the better moments between us, regardless of the things he has done. I find myself at war once again trying to reconcile the Caspian I saw versus the one everyone knows him to be.
The silence stretches between us before Caspian chuckles quietly, and I once again consider the possibility that I am stepping into an impossible trap.
“You called me for a reason, Lara. I’m not known for my patience.”
I suck in a breath, “You’re a detective, correct?”
Caspian hums in curious amusement, “Are we asking obvious questions tonight?”
I ignore the dig.
“Darian was arrested and is being detained at Highpoint Police Station. I need to see him.”
The line is quiet for a moment, “Fascinating.” He says, and I frown when he sounds genuinely surprised, “I may be able to help with that. In fact, that might actually work out to your advantage.”
“What? Why?” I try and fail to hide the annoyance in my tone, sick and tired of the secrets and minimal truth answers.
My conflicting emotions war with one another, torn between the desperate need for help and the nagging suspicion that I might be playing right into Caspian’s hands.
I can hear Caspian’s grin as he answers and my heart drops, “Because there’s an amulet at the Highpoint Station and you’re going to retrieve it.”
As the early morning light filters through the curtains, I stand before the mirror, adjusting the stolen uniform and badge that Caspian had delivered to the apartment.
The fabric feels foreign against my skin, and I take a deep breath, reminding myself of the plan that has been meticulously replayed in my mind before heading out the door.
Instructing the cab driver to drop me off a block away to avoid suspicion or prying eyes, my heart races in my chest as I exit the vehicle, adjusting the leather gloves on my injured hands nervously.
I can’t imagine many detectives would take a cab to the station.
With each step toward the side staff entrance my heart races, and an uneasy lump forms in my throat.
Two officers stand near the adjacent parking lot, idly chattering. Completely unaware of the imposter in their midst.
With bated breath, My hands tremble imperceptibly as I swipe the access card across the scanner, my pulse thundering in my ears as the other officers approach from behind.
My anxiety heightens with every passing second before a decisive beep and a green indicator grants me entry. A wave of relief crashes over me, momentarily dispelling the knot in my stomach.
Before the two officers can make their way inside after me, I turn to face them, maintaining a facade of purely false confidence.
“You didn’t scan.” My tone is composed and flat as I silently commend myself for it.
I really should have gone into acting.
Missed opportunity I suppose.
The first officer rolls his eyes in annoyance with a sigh, reluctantly scanning his own badge while the second officer snickers.
