I knew the government moved at glacial speed, but this is ridiculous.
It’s been an hour since SSA Chase’s boss called torequestthat I become human bait. And I use the wordrequestloosely.
I would’ve come anyhow. The thinly veiled threat to change what they’d shared with the federal prosecutor about my criminal activity was overkill. Once he told me about the incapacitated agents, I understood where they were coming from.
If Reed were in there, I’d want him to have someone willing to stop up for him.
Bianca and Aaron sprang into action to drive me to the scene at lightning speed.
Then we arrived. All forward progress halted.
Speaking of the car ride, it was refreshing to be the calm one for a change.
Bianca kept shaking her head, muttering, “This is insane.”
Meanwhile, Aaron was fuming that they were talking to the gang leader in the first place. “We don’t negotiate with terrorists,” he growled in that delicious Rio rasp.
Perhaps that’s true for the military, but the FBI seems to be a fan of the practice.
Sitting patiently in the corner of the FBI’s version of an RV, I wonder if any of the people buzzing around contemplated thepossibilitythat I’d need to meet with theterroristin order to bring this to an end. I can’t be the only one who saw this coming. Right?
Caracas told Reed his conditions in that snarky text earlier today. Why did they think he’d change his mind simply because they found his house?
If you didn’t figure it out by now, I refuse to callSilasthat preposterous gang name. Not even mentally.
I can’t wait to tell him to his face how dumb it sounds.
Maybe I’ve got some barnacle goose inside me after all. Either that, or one day with Kri was enough to affix my big girl panties permanently. She must have air-brushed them on me when I wasn’t looking, using her ninja skills.
It’s hard to believe I’m the cowardly girl who hyperventilated at the mere idea of riding a motorcycle. I’m unsure how I got here or how long this confidence will last.
All I know is I’mabsolutelyfed up with life turning me into a pathetic victim in need of a savior.
I’moverbeing helpless and frightened. Done believing I’m not attractive enough. Not smart enough. Strong or brave enough. Thin enough. Successful enough.
Who decides those things anyhow? What peapod-licking shart dragon set the bar and told me I’ll never reach it?
Screw that.
I’m shaken out of plucky thoughts of grandeur when I catch Reed looking at me from across the rig. He doesn’t look so good.
Emotionally, I mean.
Physically, he’s a snack, appetizer, entrée, and dessert. Despite the severity of the situation, I can’t help drooling over the idea of him filling me up until I’m utterly stuffed. Get it?
Jokes aside, he’s vibrating with desperation and frantically searching for a way to avoid allowing me to go in there.
While I’m eternally grateful that he loves me enough to stand up to his bosses, I don’t need him to fight this one for me.
Today, he’s learning a hard lesson. The same one I tried to teach him way back on the night I felt him up and swiped his keys. He can’t force people into compliance. Control is a myth. Assuming you’ll ever have it is foolhearted.
Bianca is in the thick of a spirited discussion with Reed, their boss, and her boss. Some other bosses were thrown in the mix too. A boss inception, if you will.
Agent Dad watches from the sidelines with a few others I recognize from thecasino party.
Reed stiffens, reluctantly turning to face me. The dread etched on his face has obliterated his dimples. Oh no.My preciouses.They’re gone.
Okay,nowI’m pissed.
