Chapter 72

The remainder of the trip was relaxing and fun. On our second day, we rented a canoe and took it out on the lake. Rowing the oars, making jokes, enjoying the weather.... Other than that, our day was nothing but smiles and lazing around. It was the best thing our minds and bodies could ask for.

The day we needed to leave was difficult. The moment I woke up, my entire body flooded with dread. I didn't want to go back. Fuck, I did not want to go back. During the mini-vacation, I blocked out the horrible reality and it allowed us to have the best time. Now, driving back with Luke, my mind raced with what was waiting for us.

My stomach was uneasy, to the point where I felt sick. No matter how much I tried staying optimistic, my nerves would not stop poisoning my stomach. Head resting against the passenger side window, I mindlessly stared at the raindrops sticking to the other side. The droplets slid down, some fast and some slow. My eyes followed their path as they slid in front of my face.

The gloomy day matched my gloomy mood. Sure, I sound emo, but can you blame me? Everything racing through my brain was just depressing. Death, prison, death... or a small chance of finding the headquarters if I've been good for Santa this year.

Beyond the droplets and haze of rain, we were passing fields and patches of trees. Though we were on this road only two days ago, the blurs of yellow and orange leaves were more frequent. Autumn was more prominent. It was also cooler outside, which was why I was in sweatpants and Luke's jacket.

"Did you want to stop and eat somewhere for breakfast?" he asked.

Feeling sick to my stomach did not make me want to eat. "Let's go to Mexico and change our names for breakfast." Honestly, I wouldn't mind going to Mexico at this point. Tacos, drugs.... Not bad.

"You're not hungry then, honey?" He rested his hand over mine, using his index finger to play with my ring. It was a nice reminder of the future if we happen to make it out of this shitfest.

"No, I'm good, but we can get you something," I said, glancing over to him.

"I'm not too hungry." Focus remaining on the wet road, he sighed. After a long moment of silence, he spoke again. "Albany, it's going to be okay."

His sudden words brought a small smile to my face. Not because I believed him. Just... those words coming from his mouth. It was such a Luke thing to say, especially this late in the game. He knew as well as me things might not be 'okay' by the end of this. The fact that he said it though, that he reassured me, it was a stamp on who Luke was. Flipping my hand over, I twined out fingers and squeezed.

Our drive in the light rain continued in silence. Both of us were lost in our own thoughts. Then, Luke spoke up. "Do you feel that?"

Besides the usual couple bumps in the road, there was nothing weird I could feel. "No."

Arching a brow, a small smile reached his face. "You don't feel the truck shuddering?"

"No."

"Oh man," he groaned, pointing through the windshield to the hood of the truck. "It's starting to smoke too."

Was he breathing in fumes? On drugs? Peering through the wet glass and continuous wipers, I couldn't see any sign of smoke. "What are you talking about? There's nothing there, dumbass," I laughed.

His wide eyes shot over to mine. "Oh, it's there. This truck needs a break," he said, slowing down. He pulled off onto the side of the wet road. Cutting the engine, there was no sound other than the pelting rain and the windshield wipers every few seconds.

I watched the man in amusement. "The truck needs a break, huh?"

"Yes," he said, smile turning adoring. It warmed my mind, especially because it was clear what he was doing. "So, we will just have to wait a while. I think there are some cards in the glovebox."

Grinning, I unbuckled my belt and leaned across the seat. Cupping the back of his neck, I guided him closer. Pressing our lips together, I kissed his gentle lips. Loving what he was doing for us. Stalling was all I wanted, and we were doing it. My man rocks.

When we broke away, I chuckled. "The truck might be busted for several hours."

"It just might be," he nodded.

For those few hours we were letting the truck 'rest,' Luke and I laid our worries to rest. We played cards, joked around, doodled in the truck manual.... It was a nice break from the constant head and stomachache I experienced today. Once we realized we eventually would need to continue driving, we got a bite to eat then got back on the road. Our break was refreshing. And sure, I'll keep the dramatic emo streak going and say he was the reason I didn't throw up from the feeling of dread.

Seeing Jackson though... anyone got a bucket?

My stupid thoughts were enough of a mess after we hit the road again. When we got back, walked into the room, and saw Jackson... Jesus, the sight of him forced a big pill of anxiety down my throat. Not just because he was a visual reminder of our unknown future. We got back to the motel around 4:00pm and he was there. There, in the room, and not searching the land like we figured he would be.

Jackson was slumped in a chair, sitting at the table in the corner by the window. The lamp on the round table illuminated a couple sheets of paper. His sluggish gaze was on us as we hauled in our things.

"Weren't you supposed to be searching today instead of drawing pictures?" I asked, dropping our bags onto the first queen bed.

"After doing it for a few days in a row, excuse me for being exhausted," he mumbled, glancing down to the table. The lamp light against his face highlighted stress lines along his forehead. Brows dipped, his tired eyes scanned the papers. "I think I've closed in as much as possible. I'm trying to map our coordinates and do the math. I think we've narrowed down the area enough."

"What do you mean 'enough?'" Luke asked from where he came to stand beside me.

Standing up from the table with a sigh, he came to stand before us. Arms crossed, he looked between Luke and I. "I've closed in as much as I could without getting caught. Comparing the land, our data of where we searched, I know the general area they're in within just a few miles. Agent Bitch told us she needed an exact location, but I'm going to try to pass what we have off as enough. We are close. If we can make a home up her ass, she might give in and say what we did is close enough."

Could this really happen? Jackson was saying something that gave us hope. If he truly thinks we did enough, that had to be good. Though I couldn't stand Jackson, he knew the FBI's ways more than us. If he thinks there is a chance, just a chance, that's all that mattered to my stress.

My lips couldn't help but tilt up in a shocked smirk. "The range of coordinates we would give them is all within just a few miles? She will have to take it. She will probably understand if we get any closer, it would be too dangerous."

"She's been stubborn, but worth a try," Jackson said, shrugging.

"I... wouldn't get your hopes up, but it's a real chance," Luke said, smiling down to me as he caressed my back.

It's a chance. That's all that mattered. The lady had to have some kind of a heart, right? Releasing a breath of relief, I ran a hand through my hair. "This is fucking awesome. We're meeting with her later today?"

Jackson nodded. "Yeah, we're—" He cut himself off, tired eyes darkening as they zeroed in to the top of my head. "What the fuck is that?"

What was what? I didn't know what he was talking about... until I dropped my hand from my head. He was alert and tense. All thanks to my stupid nonchalant movement of running a hand through my hair. Then again, him seeing my diamond engagement ring would have happened sooner or later. Talk about a swift change of subject though.

"What's what?" I asked casually.

The glorious fantasies of being married raced through my head the past few days. It made me imagine and wonder a lot. That includes the curious and almost humorous question: what would Jackson think? With the growing fire behind his eyes and reddening cheeks, I wasn't shocked. During our lovely trip, Luke did admit that he mentioned the idea to Jackson. Luke simply told him he might propose to me. The only response Jackson gave was a strict warning and an exaggerated impossible threat.

As Jackson was seeing – and as he should have already figured out – his warning and threat meant nothing. Luke and I didn't need his blessing. We didn't need his permission or his agreeance. He was quickly realizing he had no power or place in our relationship. And it devastated and aggravated the man into a humorless chuckle.

"Promising to be hitched? Right on the blink of death? Yeah, that's obviously from love and not desperation and fear," he said sarcastically, the brown in his gaze turning in judgement and annoyance.

Not liking the building distress and anger in his face, I glanced up to Luke. He was blankly staring at Jackson. "I proposed to Albany because I love her."

Jackson's lips spread into a dark smile. Rocking on his heels, he nodded. "You are an impulsive man who lives with his feelings and not logic. You're a child looking for the most powerful of emotions to thrive in. You found life-risking love that allows you to be the hero. You thrive in it."

I groaned. Here we fucking go. "Jackson, you have no influence—"

"You have made that quite clear. I'm stating the obvious." Sharp eyes cutting back to Luke, he continued in an even voice. "Your relationship with her has been built with destruction always a factor. You have never had a normal relationship with her. It's been life and death, drama, dodging bullets. And even then, for how long you have known each other, you have been together for a total of a few months. If you love Albany, you would have waited until after this mess is over to propose. When things are normal and you both are ready. Instead, you let our shitty situation rush you into proposing."

"You can think however you would like of me," Luke said calmly. Glancing up to him, he kept a straight face. However, his clenched jaw outlined by his cheeks gave away his growing frustration. "You can think I'm impulsive. It doesn't change the truth. Proposing when I did was important. Sure, if the worst happens and we get killed, I wanted it set in stone we had planned to be married. That doesn't mean I proposed for the wrong reasons. I've wanted to propose to her for years. I've wanted her to be mine for longer than you know. I want to spend the rest of my life with her," he said, eyes turning down to mine with intimacy. "And if you think I'm rushing into things with Albany because of our situation... well... you're wrong. If we were living under normal safe circumstances, I could marry Albany tomorrow and feel confident and happier than I've ever been."

His words warmed my chest. They didn't faze Jackson one bit. "You say that now. Spew all those romantic words. I know you mean every word, but it's immature. Neither of you have any experience in a real relationship with each other. It's going to be bills, work, priorities. Not running, hiding, and using near-death experiences to keep your love justified and dramatic. You two aren't ready to be engaged."

This was the equivalent of a man thinking he knows how it feels to have a vagina. I laughed. "Apparently, you forgot we have experienced a normal life together. Maybe a short period of time, but we did and it was beautiful. It's all we have been looking forward to." Fists clenched by my sides, I took a step towards Jackson, staring up into his eyes. They concealed more than he revealed. "You don't like it, good for fucking you. It's not your place. Luke is a better man than you will ever be. He's here, he has done it all, he loves me. If our relationship can last through so much destruction, I'm sure we can handle a normal life," I hissed in disgust. "Go fuck yourself." And yet, my words tugged at me for reasons I didn't understand or cared to understand.

"You'll learn from your mistakes I suppose," was all he mumbled.

"Looking forward to it," I snapped, getting the last word in before this stupid exchange ended. Jackson just had to say his piece, as if it would change anything. Thank you so much for wasting our time just so you could rant and be a bitch.

My blood was boiling and I was already fucking done with him. Unfortunately, we were staying in the same motel room. After that conversation, the only thing I could think was how I wanted my own room. So, guess what, ladies and gents? That's what Luke and I did. We moved the few things we had and settled into the adjoining room. At least that was one good thing that came out of talking to Jackson.

Not long after Luke and I settled into our own room, the three of us got in the truck and left to meet with Agent Tate. It was a great distraction, knowing how this meeting could possibly change everything. It allowed my lasting annoyance over Jackson to disappear. Anxiousness entered me in its place. What if Agent Tate actually accepts what we have? She wanted an exact location, but with the dangerous circumstances, having the location within a few miles should be good enough. Right? With our luck and the weight of everything, I didn't want to get my hopes up, but it was impossible.

Unfortunately, my building anxiousness didn't have the dramatic effect I was waiting for. When we walked off the country road and into the woods of where we met her before, she wasn't there. Figuring she was simply late, we waited. And waited.

It was getting colder and the sun was lowering through the thick trees in the distance. "You sure you told her to meet us here?" I groaned, leaning back against a tree truck. Hands stuffed into the jacket pockets, my glare was narrowed at Jackson.

Rolling his eyes, he took a few steps towards where we came from. The first fallen orange and brown leaves crunched under his boots. His eyes strained through the trees in the direction of the unseen road. "I called her yesterday and told her we needed to meet up."

Luke stood beside me, shifting his weight against his left crutch. His bored eyes stared at the ground. "Maybe she's sick of us."

"She agreed to be here."

Though she agreed, Agent Tate never showed. During over the hour we waited for her, we tried calling her a few times and received no answer. All we could think was that something came up and took her attention, but honestly, what? Got lost? Grocery shopping? This woman was a strict FBI agent. If she didn't come, it had to be for a serious reason.

Our minds slowly drifted back to what Luke mentioned before. Maybe she changed her mind because she was sick of us. The chick admitted the FBI already wasn't our biggest fans. We were apparently lucky to even be working with them. But then why agree to meet with us in the first place if she finally was done with us? No, there had to be more to it.

We couldn't just wait around in the woods wondering.

***

"Don't you think this is crossing a line?" Luke asked from the passenger seat.

Sitting behind the wheel, navigating through town, I shrugged. "So?"

"She already doesn't like us. Tracking her down, going to her apartment, is going to piss her off more," he said, rubbing his forehead in distress.

Sure, I understood where Luke was coming from. Stalking the bitch down would not help our relationship with her. But I couldn't get over that she wasn't there. Our situation was already dangerous and I would drive myself insane wondering why she didn't show up. It was a rare moment in time because Jackson was on the same page as me. He spoke up from where he was in the backseat.

"The FBI just don't blow off something like this. This basically means she is through with us – or something big happened. Both of which are worth a visit. I'm going to kick her ass if it's the first one."

Coming to a stop at an intersection, I admired the sunset's glow against surrounding houses and buildings. The area wasn't massively populated, but I was slightly paranoid. Though I knew Agent Tate picked a safe enough location to live, we were used to laying low out in the country. "I keep going straight?"

"Yeah, then her apartment building should be on the right," Jackson said. Thankfully, he knew where she lived. Her current living arrangements were top secret information. She gave the location to Jackson for extreme purposes. So yes, she'll probably be super pissed, but what's new? This will be a lesson not to ditch us again.

After I parked the truck in front of the three-story building, we went inside and headed up a flight of stairs. It didn't take long to reach Agent Tate's apartment. A golden 28 stood out against the dark wooden door. To our left and a few apartments down, the hallway ended with a big window overlooking the parking lot. It seemed like a nice enough place.

Luke and I stood behind Jackson as he knocked on the door a few times. Lowering his hand, we waited for several long seconds. There was no answer. Jackson tried again, knocking harder in case she couldn't hear.

"Maybe she's not here," I suggested, walking over to the large window and scanning the cars below. There were maybe two dozen vehicles. "What kind of car does she have again?" Fuck my memory because I couldn't recall.

"Her car's here; I saw it as we came in," Jackson said.

"Then maybe she's taking a shit and can't hear us," I sighed. Biting my lip, I returned next to Luke. "Or maybe she's banging some dude in another apartment?"

"From the vibe she gives off, she's definitely a lesbian," Jackson said.

"Vibe my ass. I bet you found out the hard way."

Why wasn't she answering? Her car was here, she's here, possibly a lesbian.... Mindlessly stroking Luke's arm, brushing up and down to where he grasped the crutch handle, I stared at the door and sighed. This was making me nervous.

We knocked a few more times. Nothing. Then, we tried the door, not even thinking it would work. When Jackson managed turning the handle the whole way, he paused. He looked back to us with a skeptical expression. "It's unlocked."

My uneasiness spiked. Why was it unlocked? Jackson pushed forward and swung open the door to her apartment. Confused and cautious, we stepped inside.

The entry was a small hallway, with closets on both walls beside us. Faded blue carpet guided us forward until it expanded into the main area. Specifically, the living room. Directly to our right next to the hallway was a TV, perched on a long black stand. A checkered grey couch was pressed against the far wall across from it. The kitchen branched off from the open area along with a hallway. None of that came into focus until later though. There was something that demanded our eyes the second we walked into the living room.

After stepping into the living room, our feet and breath skidded to a halt. I could feel the warmth and color drain from my face. Oh my god, please no....

On the other side of the TV, there was an oak desk in the corner. In front of the desk, Agent Tate was sprawled on her back against the floor. Her head was tilted in our direction, allowing the full horror of the sight to flood our paralyzed bodies. Her tan skin was now pale, but it was her eyes that confirmed she was dead. They were glazed, blank, permanently frozen with no life. There was no blood staining her blouse, jeans, or the carpet around her. Instead, purple and red rings were embedded and bruised in her neck. She was strangled to death.

Standing beside each other, staring, none of us said a thing. Not one of us could. We were shocked. The sight of Agent Tate produced the sense of deja-vu. My mind folded and I was suddenly back in Carter's apartment. We walked into his apartment, full of confusion and wanting answers. It led to us discovering the blood-covered dresser. Letting it register Carter was dead, it drowned me in shock and fear. And now, like before, we walked into an apartment, looking for answers – and finding them with dread.

Unfortunately, the sense of deja-vu was only going to grow stronger.

After a moment, Luke was the first one to move. Inching forward on his crutches, he lowered himself beside her. With a disturbed expression, he checked her pulse and assessed her state. His shaky fingers then brushed the rings on her neck. Though he even knew she was dead, he had to make sure – and we didn't want to believe it.

When he boosted himself back up, torment was written across his face. Such a sweet and poor man... within his eyes, I could see guilt working through his mind. We were in shock, but it didn't take much to realize her death was likely was because of our sucky situation. "F-From what I can tell, um, I think this happened last night," he whispered.

Jackson slowly approached Luke and the body he was staring down at. When he reached her though, something caught his gaze. His attention was on the desk only feet away. Papers were scattered over it along with different files. Among the mess though, something stood out. He turned and picked up a yellow-lined notepad. The words on the paper popped in bright red. Looking it over, his brows dipped in focus. "It's from them."

Them.... Them, the assholes that killed Agent Tate. Reid's men actually left a note? Rushing to Jackson's side, I leaned in and read it with him. Quickly, I discovered it wasn't from 'them.' It was from one man.

Unfortunate as it was to kill an FBI agent, it was necessary and worth her collection of information. You folks are in quite a pickle. October 1st is coming. Prison or locate my headquarters. I believe I can offer a better deal.

Allowing family to get involved is sloppy. Perhaps it's appropriate I follow suit. A certain father has been away from home, helping Miss. Higgins' cause. I'm sure his daughter would love to see him. I'll provide the favor – if you cooperate.

By the time you read this, the deed will be done. If Mr. Prenta wants to see his daughter again, you will abide by the following terms:

First, you will discontinue the search for my institute. Continue, the girl will die. Stepping foot on surrounding property, reporting any information regarding our whereabouts, the girl will die. If any further effort is being made to locate me, we will know.

Second, since I care deeply about you Albany, I wouldn't allow you to go to prison. On September 30th, the day before your deal with the FBI expires, an exchange will be made. Albany Higgins will turn herself over to us. In return, we will peacefully hand the girl over to her father. We'll be in touch soon to give further instructions on the exchange. Until then, be patient.

This is a formal contract. The conditions on my end will be met. The girl will be given over peacefully if you hold up your end. Further details given will also be genuine.

Reid Taylor

My eyes moved over the page fast, syncing with the speed of my fast breath. I was confused, terrified, angry! What the fuck was this?! Interpreting this was difficult because I didn't know if I could believe it. I mean... this sounded as if the girl Reid was referring to was Brooke! And good fucking god, it made me sick. Made me fucking sick! No, no, no, no, I must have interpreted it wrong. Right?

I kept rereading certain pieces, and it only flustered me more. My cheeks were heating. My body locked up in tension. The red words filled my eyes to the brim with tears. My chest was going to break in half. Taking a few steps back, blurry eyes snapping up to Jackson, my hand cupped my mouth. "What the fuck does that mean? Jackson, what does that mean?!" My demand was muffled against my hand, but my broken voice didn't stop. "What does that mean?!" Though it was quite clear, I had to be wrong. I had to be wrong.

He stared at the paper wide-eyed without really seeing it. Lips agape and breathing hitched, he couldn't respond. He might not have even registered my question. The sight of his horrified expression was the only answer he was giving me. It did not make my insides feel any better. Was this really happening? Please let me be wrong, I want to be wrong! Then, Jackson's distant eyes closed and stayed closed. Lines stressed his skin. For once, the emotion on his face wasn't anger. It was horror and despair.

"What does it say?" Luke demanded anxiously, thanks to our freaked-out reactions. Maneuvering around Agent Tate's body, Luke took the notepad from his numb hand. If only I mirrored Jackson and closed my eyes too. Seeing the reaction on Luke's face as he read the letter was heartbreaking and validated the disgusting truth.

Standing next to Jackson, letting the crutches rest under his arms, his hand with the notepad was held up towards his face. Each second, his hold on the note grew shaky. Overwhelming emotion spurt under his skin. His eyes grew with each word, brows creasing. Lips pressed tight together, his scared gaze filled with tears like mine. "No," he choked out in a broken voice. His hand shakily dropped the notepad

My lungs were restricting. Did he conclude what I had? It made no sense! The hand cupping my mouth moved to grip my hair. "It's not about Brooke, is it? Reid isn't saying he took Brooke, right?"

Chest caving in, Luke's weight nearly buckled. Instinctively rearranging a crutch to catch him, he swallowed hard. His intense teary eyes were pinned onto the floor. "It has to be referring to Brooke."

No, no, no! How? Fuck, was this a joke?! Luke confirming our worst nightmare made my knees shake. How? How?! Francis went home! He fucking went home. Why would Reid indicate he didn't and that his daughter missed him? Maybe Reid didn't know Francis left and was home?

"How?" I wheezed, staggering closer to them. The note said she misses him – which would make sense when Francis was here. But he went home days ago. And if Brooke was taken, Francis would have called us. "How?! Francis went home! Francis is home!"

Fully turning to face me, Jackson opened his eyes and met mine. He took a deep breath. "No, he isn't."

"What the fuck do you mean he isn't?" The morning he left, we literally watched him drive away. His plan was to drive half a day to reach a small airport in Idaho. From there, he was to take a flight back to Ohio. The dude had tickets, gave us the locations for safety reasons.... He would have gotten home the night he left! He was home and had been home! He had been home even before Agent Tate got killed.

Apparently, that wasn't the case. There was knowledge on the surface Jackson previously kept hidden. Sighing, not wanting to speak, he forced himself to say the words in a soft voice. "He never left. He's not home in Ohio. He's ten minutes away."

Never left. Not home. So. Talk about another way to say 'fuck you' to my face. I guess my persistence to get him out of our mess just meant it was okay to lie and betray me. Well, guess the note made fucking sense now.

I could be pissed and disgusted over being lied to later. Right now, with what we were facing, horror engulfed my body. This was real. Based on the note, Brooke was taken. Taken! Who knows what she has gone through, is going through, and will go through! My dear god, this wasn't happening! Tears streamed down my cheeks. The reality of everything gutted my insides with a sharp knife. Our future, our fate, completely changed.

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Big twist.... lay it on me! I had been struggling to come up with how to display this change in the story so I hope you liked it and the chapter!