Do I care that she kept a piece of her in the dark that was so big? Yes. It annoys the shit out of me that Monroe was right about her hiding something. It goes against everything I stand for with my career but I don’t have the strength to leave her. There’s so much that I don’t understand about the life she lives but I know her. She claims to be this monster but what I saw when she decided to get herself kidnapped was nothing but selflessness. She cares deeply for those she swore herself to and, for that, I could never leave.
We could live in two different worlds, where I know nothing about what she does and stay as uninvolved as possible. It would be tricky but it could be done. If not, then my career is done for. Maybe that's what's wrong with me, maybe I go after the criminals to push out what I’ve done. I’ve taken lives of innocents under an order I was given, knowing damn well my superior was corrupt as hell. I should have said no, I should have stepped up but I didn’t. I felt nothing when I did it. Not sorrow, regret, or sympathy.
When I got out, the record of my kills was sealed with the fucked up government. Joining the FBI was the only way I could fulfill my redemption. That maybe, just maybe, if I went after the very monster that I was, it could make up for all those innocent lives. She never knew that side of the story though, I didn’t get a chance to tell her, to open up to her about my deepest secrets.
“Solace, we’re needed in the conference room. Hurry the hell up,” Beckett calls from the other side of the curtain.
Shutting off the water, I grab the towel and dry off quickly before wrapping it around my waist. Grabbing my disposed clothes and soap, I quickly make my way back to my locker anddress in record time. I catch up to Beckett at the vending machine, grabbing his soda.
“Any idea what it’s about?” I ask as we make our way to the elevator.
“No idea but it sounded serious. Hopefully they found something.”
Stepping into the conference room, the Director is pacing back and forth with a couple other agents. Everyone freezes when we get into the room as if they’re waiting for a bomb to tick off.
“What the hell were you two up to? Took you long enough to get your asses up here,” he scolds us like teenage boys.
“Training on the mats. Part of the job to keep it up for the field. I needed to step away to gain a clearer head,” I ground out.
We take our seats at the open spots waiting for whatever it is we were called in for. The projector flips on and a computer screen lights up on the wall. The main FBI email line appears with an anonymous email. My heart begins the race in anticipation of what’s about to be shown.
“This email was sent about twenty minutes ago with a gruesome photo. Be prepared for what’s about to be shown. We’re not sure why this was sent to the main email instead of it coming to either myself or Agent Solace. It appears that the assailant wanted a bigger audience this time.”
He clicks on the email and it pops up covering the whole screen. There’s a photo attachment but before clicking on the photo, he scrolls down to the message.
Jesus died at the age of thirty-three. He died for our sins,our salvation, for forgiveness of our wrong doings. Thirty-three marks to signal the angel to protect this woman from the demon that lives within her. To bring her closer to her spiritual purpose. If this fails, she may be lost forever.
This is it, the update we needed to track this guy, to know what state of condition the girls are in but I don’t know if I’m ready for this, ready to see what he did with those thirty-three markings.
The cursor moves to the picture and hovers over it in hesitation before finally clicking on it. Gasps fill the room as the photo broadcasts a female back with slices all over it. Blood trickles from the wounds. Deep cuts but not enough to cause death from what I see. Cuts cover all over the back and I notice a mole on the lower hip. My body starts vibrating at the realization who it belongs to. Looking at the other side of the photo, I notice a brown strand of hair right at the shoulder.
I absolutely lose it. I shove from the table causing the chair to flip over under my feet. Grabbing the nearest thing, I send it flying towards a wall causing it to shatter.
“Solace! SOLACE!” The Director screams my name but white noise fills my ears. I can’t control it, I can’t control the rage that’s overpowering me, exposing me to my peers.
“Look what he fucking did! We’ve been too slow to find this fucker and he’s touched her, marked her like she’s some sort of canvas,” I spit out.
I pace back and forth, taking deep breaths trying to get a hold of myself but it’s no use. I knew deep down something would happen to her, but seeing it displayed with pride just makes me want to vomit.
“You’re off the case, Solace. I knew this would be too personal. Out, get him out of here now!” he demands.
I whirl at him, pinning him with such hatred and venom. “Fuck you,” is all I can get out before I’m pulled away. Beckettwhispers in my ear to walk away, trying to get me to leave before I lose my job. As if I give a fuck about this job right now.
I pull the door open hard causing it to hit the wall as I leave the tainted room. I walk with purpose to my desk, grabbing my bag and making my way back towards the elevator. Beckett is hot on my heels, not leaving me alone as if I’m going to do something stupid. Which I just might.
“Go, Beckett. Go back before you lose your job,” I grumble at him.
“We’re a team, and if that means I lose my job, then so be it. I got your six. Your girl and our partner are out there and we need to act now. We can’t wait for them,” he declares as he pushes the button causing the doors to open.
We make our way down until we get to the parking garage. I need to get to Antonio, he needs to know what the hell just happened to his cousin and we need his help to find her.
“Follow me to the mansion. We need to meet with the boys. Once we get there, I need you and Samson to track the IP address so we can locate where this email came from,” I instruct him before slipping into my car and peeling out of the garage.
I send a quick text to the number, which I'm assuming is Antonio’s, and plug in the address before I cut in and out of traffic. I’m done waiting. I’m done wondering what the hell my woman is going through. I make it there in record time, flying out of my car with Beckett parking and hot on my heels. The door opens and Antonio stands there with concern written all over his face.
“Not yet. We need to be in the room before we discuss so we don’t freak out the others in this house.” The only thing he can say that causes me to slow my pace down.
We follow him back to the room, passing the girls, giving them a soft smile. Once we’re secured inside, Beckett headsstraight over to where Samson already has the computers up and ready. He types furiously in the keys causing Samson to sit back and admire his work.
