Chapter 73

Phone calls were made. It offered validation that struck us into silence. Acid stirred in my stomach. Instead of vomit, chest-quenching tremors rattled my veins. It took my arms restricting my stomach to not shake. From where I was perched on the end of the couch, holding onto myself and just barely keeping it together, my wet eyes bore into the blue carpet.

Luke was just as tense next to me. After he shakily dropped the phone, he dropped his head into his hands. Besides his quivering arms and panicky breath, he remained unmoving. Like all of us. We couldn't move. We were frozen in fear, horror, and devastation. Jesus Christ, especially after those phone calls.

The first was made to Francis. Jackson called him. Without sharing any details, he gave the address of Agent Tate's apartment to Francis and told him to get here. Afterwards, Luke made one of the most terrifying calls of his life. Needing to know our reality with 100% certainty, Luke made a phone call home to his parents. And let me tell you... it was one of the most heartbreaking things I've ever heard and witnessed.

After dialing and putting it on speaker, we all hung onto each second. Waiting in fear and anxiousness, we all stared at the phone in his tight hand.  Finally, Jan answered the phone. We had a sliver of hope to hear her dismiss anything about Brooke being gone. She crushed it the second her broken voice answered.

His eyes widened. "Mom?"

"Lucas! Lucas, are you alright? Where is your brother?" Jan's sweet voice cried hysterically. "Please, please, where is he? Did he take Brooke out of school? Did he pick her up? S-She never made it home from school; we've talked to everyone. The school, the bus driver, her teachers, nobody...." She trailed off, voice going higher before erupting in static sobs over the speaker.

Both of Luke's hands cupped the phone, as if it would help. Face contorting in pain, eyes closing, he sucked in an uneven breath through his nose. "Ma, it's going to be okay," he said in as strong of a voice he could muster. It didn't match his sickening composure.

He forced himself to sound as controlled as he could for the rest of the call. It was nearly impossible for him to accomplish. He visibly shook, swallowed back a cry, and heaved in panic. Explaining the situation to his mother was almost unbearable for both of us. Jan erupted, sobbing, and it made Luke cup his mouth to hold back from joining his mom. During that moment, my hands dug into my sides from where my arms were wrapped around me. Nobody deserved pain of this magnitude. But to hear it leave this sweet woman's mouth... I would not have it. I would not allow this. Whether Luke meant it when he confidently reassured Jan that her granddaughter would be fine, it didn't matter. Because I would make it happen. I would get Brooke back. It was worth giving in, giving up, giving myself over.

After Luke ended the call and tried recovering, the pain plaguing me twisted. Jan begged Luke to have Francis call home whenever he could. I couldn't imagine another phone call to Jan without me crumbling. Then again, I'm sure revealing what happened to Francis would be more of a hell than I could handle.

Just thinking about the door knocking made my torso want to cave. Any moment, it would, signaling Francis's arrival. I didn't want him to hear the truth. I didn't want him to know! Nobody deserved to hear their child was taken.

Yet, when the dreaded knock on the door came, it had to happen. My muscles compressed together. I tightened my arms around my stomach. I didn't know if I could handle this.

From where Jackson numbly stood this whole time, he sighed and closed his hurt eyes. None of us moved, not wanting to get the door. None of us were ready to watch Francis's world fall apart. By the time another knock reached the air though, Jackson opened his eyes and walked down the narrow entryway to the door.

When he opened the door, Francis's voice reached us in the living room. "Hey, what's going on? Did you upgrade from a motel to this snazzy place?"

Jackson said nothing. Instead, I heard footsteps. Jackson entered back into sight with Francis following. He stepped into the living room and froze, eyes stuck on his brother and me. The hazel behind his frames flashed with surprise. Up until now, the dude figured we thought he was back home. No doubt he was wondering why Jackson would reveal their secret. Poor guy didn't know that was the last thing he needed to worry about.

With a fuzzy flannel covering him, hands tucked into his jeans, he sighed. You could see his mind at work, whipping up a quip for Jackson about how 'secrets mean keeping secrets.' However, before his annoyed eyes could look up to Jackson next to him, his attention zeroed in on Luke and me. Though our tears dried cold, the distress and horror still covered our faces. Even more so because he was here, about to discover something gut-retching.

"What's—?" Then, his eyes caught the disturbing scene off to the side. Hands flying up and cupping the back of his head, he instinctively took a few steps away with wide eyes. "What the fuck? What happened?" he demanded, arms dropping as he looked between us with panic.

Luke and I could only stare at Francis with dread. How were we supposed to explain? Jackson was the only one who had the balls – or heart – to begin. Stepping closer, he rested a hand on his shoulder. "We had a meeting scheduled with Agent Tate a few hours ago. She never showed, so we came here to her apartment. The door was unlocked, we came in, and found her like this."

My heart jumped. Good lord, I didn't expect Jackson to just jump into it. Luke and I should say something. Luke or I should be the ones to tell him about the note. It was a personal, deep, intimate subject. But... looking to Luke, it was clear he wasn't ready. He couldn't do it. And I didn't think I could either. Instead, Jackson decided there was a better way to break the news to him.

Upon hearing how we discovered Agent Tate, Francis's gaze returned to the ugly sight. Though they both faced the body several yards away, Jackson's eyes steadily stayed trained on Francis. After a moment of silence, Jackson spoke. "They left a note."

The somber tone drew Francis's attention away from Agent Tate. Brows lowering, he turned and looked up at Jackson. Their limited distance and the rare sympathy in Jackson's eyes allowed Francis to understand there was more going on. Each second the two men's eyes stayed locked, the worry in Francis's increased. Then, he cautiously turned to us.

Staring back at him only made his chest against the green flannel pick up. His human heart picked up without even knowing why yet. He just... knew something big happened. Cautiousness, worry, curiosity crossed his face and introduced lines along his forehead. His sweet face didn't know – and I didn't want him to know! Was there some way to spare the guy? Not tell him? Looking down at my knees, I took a deep breath.

Then, Luke stood up with his crutches and moved to where the yellow notepad was on the floor. Once he retrieved the note and approached his brother, he stared into his eyes for a long second. Then, he handed Francis the notepad. And he took it in.

First, his brows jumped – probably at the introduction and confession to killing an FBI agent. From there, it quickly went downhill. Two more seconds of reading, he gasped hard as if physically punched. The hazel in his eyes glowed with immediate tears, eyes popping out in realization. Gasping again between his slack jaw and quivering lips, his legs gave out.

The man fell to his knees, taken over by sharp gasps turning more emotional. He began hyperventilating. Gripping his chest, fabric twisting in his fist, his other hand continued holding the notepad in front of his strained face. And by the time he was finished reading, he was a wreck. "We don't know, we don't know he did this," he choked, red eyes tilting up to his brother standing a few feet away.

Luke took a defeated breath. "I just got off the phone with mom. Brooke's... missing."

He dropped the notepad. Resting one hand on the floor, supporting his caving and shaking body, his other hand cupped his mouth. He couldn't say anything; he could barely breathe. He just was broken.

The sickness in my stomach twisted and changed. My pain and devastation grew to a new level at seeing Francis. So much so, I was ready to act. From today on, everything would be different. Including the rest of my life. This family would no longer hurt because of my issues. No more. Nothing like this would happen again. Seeing Francis crumble like he did... I made my decision without even pondering over it.

Blinking away my teary eyes, I stood up and moved to Francis. Kneeling before him, I rested a hand over his against the carpet. Enticing my words to the surface was difficult. I wasn't ready to face giving myself over, but it was a no brainer decision. "Nothing bad is going to happen to Brooke, you hear me?"

Doubled over and staring at the ground, he blinked his wet lashes. They spotted his glasses. The hand covering his mouth shook harder. "It already has."

"We're getting her back. I promise. I promise you. They are willing to give her back."

Jackson jumped in. "Not without you surrendering and that's not happening."

It was happening though. And I would proudly do that for Brooke. Staring up at Jackson standing a few feet behind Francis's hunched figure, I snorted. "Yes. It is."

"Nothing is decided yet," Jackson said, eyes powerfully searching mine. He could see my determination and it scared him. As he was slowly learning, he didn't have any authority over me. Scoffing as if surrendering was stupid, he rolled his eyes. "We have several options. When I call the FBI and report Tate's murder, they will fly someone else in. I'm sure we can figure something out."

"Then you better get on the fucking phone," Francis croaked. Wiping the tears away, bumping his tear stained glasses, he quickly got to his feet. Forcing his legs to work, he rushed out of the apartment. Shook-up like he was... I couldn't bare it. Watching his hazed brain guiding him to escape, it did not feel good. He was not in a good state of mind. Then again, were any of us? I was five minutes away from proposing to make a damn suicide pact.

Craning my neck, I blinked my own tears away and took in Luke next to me. It was as if the pain and sadness in his gaze deepened. "You can't just give yourself over," he said in a low voice.

"Watch me," I breathed. The decision was effortless; I was ready to do it in a heart-beat. However, it would be another thing to come to terms with it. Confronting what I would have to do was something I couldn't think about right now. Besides. There was more to worry about. Like Francis. "We'll worry about that later. Your brother is broken," I said, getting to my feet.

Pursing his lips, he nodded. "I'll go find him and make sure he's okay."

"No, you're staying here," Jackson interrupted. "I'm calling the FBI. They will want an explanation of how your family is now being used as leverage."

Emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed, Luke sighed.  "Fine."

"Then I'll go make sure Francis isn't ready to drive off a cliff," I said, rubbing Luke's arm. Secretly, I was happy for this chance. I wanted to be the one to talk to Francis. He was a mess and all he wanted was his daughter to be okay. The only one who could say with certainty she will be okay was me. He needed to know I meant it when I said I will give myself up for Brooke.

Of course, it wouldn't soften the brunt of what's already happened. She was taken. Any parent would be a mess. Francis was no exception. That became clear not long after leaving the apartment to find him. Entering the hall, I walked down until I reached the door to the staircase. Opening the door, it became apparent I didn't need to go much further to catch up to him.

The stairway was lit by a high ceiling light. It illuminated Francis, sitting a few steps down from where I stood at the landing. The man's green flannel back was to me with his head dipped forward. He was sobbing heavily into his hands. His uncontrollable cries were in sync with his heaving body. Jolting with each harsh breath he sucked in, he released it a second later as loud pain.

Oh fuck, why? Why? Why him? Why his beautiful innocent daughter? She was his whole freaking world. She was everything to him. Now, he was broken, lost, tormented! It was as painful as hearing Jan over the phone, another rough punch to my heart. It made me even more certain about wanting to trade myself over. We could not be selfish. I was getting Brooke back.

Rushing down the steps, I slumped down beside him on the grey carpeted step. Wrapping my arm around his back, I guided him to lean more against me. His body shook in tremors, face still hidden behind his palms as he cried. Cried and cried over his daughter. He did not deserve this. That's all I could think. He didn't deserve this.

My vision blurred worse. "I'm sorry," I whispered, containing the thickness in my throat as best as I could. But guys, it was so hard – so fucking hard to hold it together.

"She was taken, my baby girl was taken!" he muffled in a broken voice through his sob against his hands.

I didn't know what to do, what to say to help him. It's not like I'm skilled in this kind of department. Sure, I felt I could reassure him for the future, but... there was no making him feel better about this happening to begin with. His daughter was taken. He had every right to be mess. All I could do was be there for him, and even then, it wasn't enough.

Pressing against his side, I offered as much comfort as I could. Stroking his back with my arm around him, I just... sat there, wishing I could take away his pain. Hell, I wish I could take mine away too. This sweet father did not make my emotions any calmer over Brooke being taken. Forcing it back didn't work much and tears crawled down my cheeks too.

Francis choked out a few more words. "Why? Why?! My fucking god, why my angel?" he cried, his back under my hand shaking. Then, finally, his hands went limp. Tilting his now exposed face towards mine, his cheeks were red. Through his wet glasses, his eyes matched red. "She must be so scared," he said, shutting his eyes tight.

My response was automatic. "We're going to get her out of there." Shifting to face him more, I delicately removed his glasses. Setting them aside, I rested my hand on his knee. "I don't care what anyone says. I'm keeping my end of the deal. As long as I do, Brooke will be okay."

He shook his head. Wiping away his tears didn't stop more from coming. "You don't know he will. You don't know what he will do." Lips quivering again, he turned his head away from me to face the wall. "He could have already done..." he cried, trailing off.

His limitless imagination took him over. Mine managed to catch up quick enough.  Grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to look back at me, I spoke sternly. "She is alive, she is okay. Do you understand me?"

"She is alone. My little girl is all alone and scared! I... I'm not there for her! All she can think right now is why I didn't stop this from happening to her!"

Patting his knee, I sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Unfortunately, I'm sure Brooke was going through that nightmare. It burned my throat and I had to blink more tears away. She wasn't even my daughter and the ache ran deep. Especially because there was nothing else I could say. It was just a fucked-up moment in time where we couldn't change what Brooke was going through.

Weeping softly to himself, he continued his unstable train of possibilities. "They better not hurt her or lay one damn finger on her."

"Francis, they won't. Okay? Believe me. They won't hurt her. Look at how much trouble Reid has gone through to get me. He wouldn't screw it up when this is his last chance. He took her because he knows we will follow his terms and that's what's going to happen."

He took as even of a breath as he could manage and searched my eyes for a long moment. "You're just going to accept his word? Turn yourself over on faith?"

I wasn't just trying to make him feel better. I fully believed Reid would keep to his word. Reid was desperate – enough to snatch up a little girl. He knew it would work and he was right. Francis had a point though. What if I give myself up and he still doesn't give Brooke over? Well... then that'll suck. That will be devastating and not something I wanted to consider. Because regardless, we had to trust his note – his contract. It was worth the risk if it meant probably getting Brooke back. That was all that mattered.

Not ready to face my horrible future, I sighed. "We have to. I do believe he will keep his word. You need to believe it too."

"You can't just..." he breathed, looking down and shutting his eyes in pain. More tears were released around his scrunched eyes.

"I can't what?" I pushed, knowing he couldn't – and wouldn't – finish his thought. So, I did. "I can't turn myself over? I can't do that to save your daughter?" Francis wouldn't stop me from giving myself up in exchange for his little girl. And that was how it should be. "We need to for Brooke – and we will. We are going to do exactly as Reid said and Brooke will be back with you in no time."

"You can't just give... there has to be a way where you don't have to give in," he groaned.

"Maybe the FBI can figure something out where I can be saved. But if not, I'm   still doing it."

"That's it then, isn't it?" he said with a broken voice. Chest shaking, he roughly dragged his hands down his face. With his next words, he nearly let out a sob. "You're just... going to surrender. He wins. And it's my fault because I wasn't a good enough father."

"What are you talking about?"

"How could I have done this to Brooke? How could I have fucked everything up so badly?!" Groaning, he shielded his eyes with his hand as a cry escaped his lips. "Eh, I-I... I can't lose my baby, but everything is my fault and you shouldn't have to suffer! Because of me, I wasn't home and if I was, maybe she would be safe. Maybe she would be home safe with me and not kidnapped in some strange place by a fucking lunatic. Maybe she wouldn't be wondering why she was taken? Why... I wasn't there! I wasn't there for her!"

"Francis, you are a wonderful father. Better than mine," I scoffed despite his words piecing my emotions. Swallowing and clenching my jaw, I held my own pain in. "For all you know, Reid would have still taken her if you were home."

"But if I stayed out of it all together, if I didn't come here at all... you- I... this wouldn't have happened at all. You wouldn't be forced to surrender because of my mistake! And all, all I've..." Gasping, he crumbled back into his chaotic upset state and I couldn't blame him. Before he could shield himself anymore, I turned to him and wrapped an arm around him. Shaking, he turned into jelly against me and rested his head on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I-I'm so sorry. All... All I've ever wanted for you was to be happy. I've just, I t-tried to help you. I've always wanted to help you and it was my mistake not thinking of my baby first. It was my mistake getting involved because I fucked your future. I fucked everything up," he cried softly, wrapping an arm around me. "I'm sorry, Albany."

Spewing all these words through a soft sob... it sprouted more sadness and care within me for him. Especially because there wasn't much I could say to make him feel better. Essentially, Francis was right. He did screw up. If shit wasn't so bad and I wasn't in turmoil for him, I could have easily said 'told you so.' Unfortunately, he didn't listen when I warned him. If only he listened earlier... things might be different. But I could hardly be upset or mad. Not with how it bit him in the ass too. Not with how broken he was. Even after everything, he didn't deserve this.

Closing my eyes, I took in his spicy nature musk I familiarized with him. It filtered through my nose and distributed sharply into my nerves. My brows scrunched as a heavy piece of reality smashed into my head. Soon enough, I would never see Francis again. Never see Luke. Soon enough, I would be gone.

The thought was so painful, I blocked it out. It wasn't that bad. Not if it meant getting Brooke back. Besides, maybe things will be different. Who knows, the FBI might be able to help. Or maybe being taken by Reid wouldn't be too bad. It's not like I would be dying. "Don't be sorry. I'll be alright. And I want you to be alright, okay? You need to be strong," I whispered, opening my eyes and staring at the wall. There was a small window above, showing nothing but a dark sky. "You need to be strong for Brooke, okay? She's a tough kid and I'm sure she's alright."

"I don't know if I can stay strong," he chuckled humorlessly through his tears. "I hate myself right now. I really do."

Oh my god, he couldn't say that. I couldn't handle hearing that. Grasping his arms, I shifted by body to face him fully. Forced to support his teary face, his eyes were closed. "Francis," I said, wiping away the fresh tears on his cheeks. "Open your eyes. You don't get to say that without getting bitched out."

He did as I said and opened them. His raw hazel eyes burned red with distress and sadness. "Go on, rip me a new one."

"If you fucked up so bad, don't you think it's time to make up for it? If you truly believe you are a bad father – which you aren't – wouldn't you want to make it up to Brooke?"

"Of course. She deserves the world," he said, voice cracking. "I'm just... I feel so guilty and broken."

"I know," I whispered. "Overcome it. Otherwise, you're going to drive yourself crazy. Forgive yourself. Be strong. Be strong for Brooke, Luke, and me."

Sniffling, he looked down. "It's going to be hard, but I will do my best. How are you managing to stay so strong right now?"

Denial. It was that simple. Denial and not thinking too much. Francis deserved an answer that might help him though. "Because I am confident everything will be okay. Brooke will be fine. She's going to be coming home, Francis. I promise."

"What about you? How aren't you freaking the fuck out for your sake?"

"I'll freak out after the FBI shoots down our hopes another time. Until they give us no help, I'm holding it together," I shrugged. "Even then though, whatever happens to me, I'll be fine."

He flashed a small smile through his sadness. "I give you a lot of credit, Albany. I'll try to stay strong. I just can't right now, you know," he said, clenching his jaw and looking away. I could see he was holding back more tears. They would eventually fall – and that was okay. He needed to go through this. He needed to freak out. At least he knew I fully planned on us getting Brooke back. At least I helped him understand I would happily do it.

Staying here with him would be intrusive. He needed to just keep letting it out – and probably without me interfering in any way. "I'm going to give you some time, okay?"

He nodded.

Grabbing his glasses from the step, I cleaned them with my shirt and set them in better reach for him. "Take as long as you need. When you come back into the apartment, you're going to need to call your parents. I guess they want to hear from you."

He exhaled shakily in exhaust. "Oh god. They're going to know more than me about her being kidnapped." Facing the wall again, his breath hitched. "I don't know if I can talk to them without breaking down. Might as well do it now," he said, rubbing his stress-lined forehead. Then, he took a deep breath and withdrew his phone from his pocket. 

It was a hard sight to walk away from. But I did and returned to the room. Luke was sitting on the couch, looking as defeated as we all felt. When I walked in and entered the living room, his eyes met mine... and it was another blow of pain. One I ignored. One I had to. After clearing my throat, I cleared my head of my stupid emotions. "He's obviously having a rough time, but I talked to him. He's calling home right now like Jan wanted." Glancing to shithead sitting on the other end of the couch, I asked, "Did you guys call the FBI?"

Unlike earlier when he was showing some sympathy, the Jackson I knew was on the surface. No emotion and just seriousness. "Yeah, I'm going to need to make a few more calls. We explained what happened. They said they will have people here in a couple hours. They plan on contacting the local police and will be cooperating with them. Nothing was said about us being assigned another agent yet; they are more concerned about the murder and the note. Sounded like stiffs, as usual. 50 bodies of regular citizens aint nothing but one of their own dies and the world is over," he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Wonderful. They were being dipshits like usual. "So... we know nothing yet about whether they will help us? Or even can?" With Brooke at stake, I wasn't even sure I would want their help if they offered.

"Pretty much," Luke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "We just need to be patient though. We just dropped a lot on them."

"I am in zero mood for patience," I mumbled. With the note and our future turned upside down, I did not need time to think. My anxiety over Brooke was through the roof. My fear of turning myself over for her was nothing I wanted to deal with.... And being patient, staying calm, was not good for my mind.

The sucky part was... we were going to have to get used to being patient. After all, we have a while until September 30th. Until then, we would have to sit back and do nothing. Do nothing while Brooke was in Reid's hands and our lives were thrown into the wind. Let's just keep our fingers crossed the FBI will somehow pull a miracle out of nowhere and help our fucked-up situation once they get here.

***

It was about 2:00 in the morning. We were still awake – and so was the apartment Agent Tate had resided in. Currently, it was filled with several people of the FBI along with some police officers. They examined the scene, collected evidence, studied her surroundings.... It was a reminder of what shit was like when people actually die. What should happen when people die. You didn't just drive away like we were forced to do a couple times.

The people in uniform took care of the disturbing scene in the middle of the living room. Meanwhile, the four of us met a man Jackson described as an 'office stiff' – someone in higher command who didn't do the dirty work. Personally, I think Jackson was just jealous of how much power he had. The man introduced himself as Senior Special Agent Bosanack – and yes, ooh-la-la, he was a 'senior special' agent (whatever the fuck that meant).

Clad in a nylon jacket and slacks, he escorted us out of the building and away from the commotion to speak with us. Standing in a circle in the parking lot, the man proceeded to question us. Asked us the basic bullshit as if this was some murder mystery. Did he not see the note? At least being outside offered some cold night air to relieve my swarmed head and heated cheeks. Thankfully, the dumb questions didn't last too long. It soon moved into smoother conversation at least where we simply explained everything that happened.

Francis, however, was growing more and more concerned and frustrated by the minute. As we were speaking, I couldn't help but notice the distressed man. He kept looking around us in paranoia. Though it was much less chaotic out here, it was enough to make Francis nervous. A few officials stood around, talking, writing notes. He eyed up every one of them, but his attention continued returning to the parked cop cars yards away. The flashers were still on.

Finally, after Jackson finished up and the man wrote some things down, Francis interrupted. "Can we talk somewhere else? Somewhere not out in the open."

I pursed my lips. My mind jumped onto the same track as his. Poor dude. You couldn't blame him though. The last thing we wanted was Reid suspecting we were trying to come up with a plan to fool him. Talking with someone from the big group of officials here might give that impression – if by chance Reid's men were watching.

"I wouldn't worry. Reid now knows we have an active deal with the FBI. He knows we would have to talk with them anyway," I said, trying to reassure him.

Shockingly, the FBI considered us for once. The burly man tucked his notepad into his jacket pocket. The faded blue and red flickering light made his eyes shine when he glanced up to Francis. "The cops are going to cover for you too. When this gets out, the story is that the landlord called the police after finding Tate's body."

Even then, it didn't and couldn't make Francis feel much better. He was on edge and scared. Hell, I'm sure in his mind if he tripped on his shoelace, surely Reid would kill Brooke for it. It didn't help Francis's nerves either that Mr. Special took his sweet time to get to our issue.

When he did... ugh, I could have lost my shit. Why do these people have to prolong everything?!

"All I can inform you on is that you are being assigned another agent – as was agreed with your deal with us. We would provide someone to keep an eye on you and that still stands. As far as the note and kidnapping goes, I don't know what to tell you. This wasn't what we expected. In case Agent Tate didn't inform you, our patience was already running thin."

By some miracle, Luke managed to stay the calmest. "Sir, I understand we've been nothing but trouble. But an innocent girl was dragged into this and one of your agents was murdered—"

"Both of which we just learned about. Both of which are your fault. Now believe me, we will consider everything and assess this new dilemma. Right now though, we're in no position to determine if there is something we can do to help – or if you even deserve it. Things will be more stable by the time your new agent gets here. He will be able to inform you more if we can offer assistance. Until then, I suggest you guys get some sleep. You could use it."

"And if you can't offer assistance?" Luke asked more firmly. From where he tensely stared at the man beside me, he quickly composed himself. The politeness returned to his voice. "I mean... you can't expect us to just watch this fight end with Albany getting dragged off by Reid."

The man stood up a bit straighter, arching a brow between us. "If we decide not to help you, you still have several options. You're right. I don't expect it would be easy to watch her give in. She would be in Reid's hands and the next day, you Mr. Prenta would be arrested for failing to deliver us the location of the headquarters in time. You will be forced to weigh your options. You could always still continue with the deal you made with us."

"That's suicide," I hissed, looking between Luke and Special Agent Bosanack. "We keep searching, it would end with Brooke getting killed. Prison is better than that."

Luke licked his lips, eyes shooting down with frustration to mine. "I agree and would take prison any day if it meant saving my niece. I would die for my niece. But Albany, we can't just go along with what this psychopath demanded on a fucking notepad." His attention rose back to the man. "That's why we hope you do consider helping us."

The man rolled his eyes. "Even if we do offer help, some of you might not feel inclined to accept." Glancing over to a grief-stricken Francis, the man pursed his lips. "If you're scared of Reid seeing us here, you probably wouldn't be comfortable agreeing to us tricking him. Your daughter would probably be at a higher risk."

None of us said anything for a long moment. No help... well, then I will be taking a permanent vacation. With help, we might be risking Brooke's life even more. I guess it would depend on the kind of help – if the FBI even offered.

Regardless of whatever the FBI decided though, it was very evident there would probably be a lot of conflict between the four of us. There would be a lot of options for us to weigh. All would be very heavy components and each of us weighed them differently.

Seeing the realization cross us all, that we might be fucked no matter what, the man sighed. "Like I said, maybe we can come up with something that would work for you guys. Maybe not. When you meet the agent we are assigning you, he should have more information. Until then, try to get some rest."

Mr. Special departed from our dumbfounded circle. Every step he took away from us, it was like he was stepping on my brain. Stepping on my wall of resistance and denial. The back of my mouth flooded with the disgusting thickness of dread. My heart was picking up. This really... really might not work out for me. I knew that, I knew it was a chance, but now... now, the emotional toll of it wanted to hit me. Especially when I looked up to Luke. He was already staring down at me.

Standing close enough to each other, he managed to whisper where only I could hear. His eyes were filled with fire and seriousness. I think I just passed along my denial to him; Luke wasn't allowing what the man said to bother him. "Albany, you aren't going. I don't care. Things are not ending like that. We can get Brooke out safely without you handing yourself over."

My sweet man.... If the FBI didn't provide a miracle, I was handing myself over. That was all there was to it. The determination and stubbornness grew stronger in me. It didn't leave much room for my denial when I felt dead set on doing something for such an innocent little girl. Luke would just have to accept it. He... Oh fuck. Luke.

Biting my lip hard, I took a rattled breath. Hold it in and stop thinking. Stop thinking about the future. Stop thinking about how much you love him. No emotion, no thinking about this right now. No thinking about what could inevitably happen to me – and what I ultimately would want if it meant Brooke was home safe.

Keeping up the persistence of blocking out my selfish emotions, I had to force myself to look away. "Then you better hope the FBI whips up something real good. Otherwise, I'm doing it."

There was no way I could emotionally handle getting into this right now with Luke. I had a feeling there would be plenty of going back and forth between all of us. Including the two silent men next to us, Jackson and Francis. Both fathers were lost in the fear of losing their daughter. Because by the end of this, one of them most likely would. And it wasn't going to be Brooke. 

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Very fun chapter to write (I enjoy the emotional ones, even if it leaves me in their state at the end) 😝 Anyway, hopefully you enjoyed it and it wasn't too much. Clearly, they will be faced with some tough decisions, but Albany probably won't budge. What do you guys think will happen? How do you think this will effect Albany as the 30th starts to creep up on them? What possible plan could the FBI come up with – if any?  So many questions

I tried remaining more laid back in this chapter (not being all anal with words and editing and all that jazz). Hopefully, it paid off. Thank you so much for reading and supporting me. It's one of the best parts of my life to write and post for you guys!