Barrett nods and stands. “Well, I’ll have you go over everything with Savannah. Is there anything else that you’d like to discuss?”
“No, sir.”
“Are you sure?” He towers above me. I don’t feel threatened by his presence, like when Aaron is in my proximity. With Barrett, it’s more like a father staring down at his daughter, waiting for her to spill her secrets.
But mine are locked deep inside where no one can know what happened.
The surveillance footage.
I want to destroy the evidence of the attack.
But I can’t.
Just like I can’t give up the flash drive.
I’d do anything to protect my reputation, and Mikhail is on that tape too, threatening two FBI agents at gunpoint, but I won’t risk prison time for tampering with evidence.
But the thumb drive, no one has to know that I stole it from Mikhail’s residence. It will disappear.
* * *
After going over the specifics of the undercover operation with Savannah, I head to the lab to review the surveillance footage.
It’s leverage against Aaron. While I don’t want it to come out that we slept together, there may be little choice in the matter.
Aaron is dangerous. He wasn’t when we first met, or maybe I was naïve to the dangers. I worked under him, did as he asked, no matter what it entailed. Usually, it was professional requests, but there were times that things got heated and passionate.
He exuded power, and I fell right into his hand.
Never again.
I open the door, and Aaron steps out from the lab. My breath catches in my throat. “Looking for evidence?” he whispers into my ear as he walks by.
“What?”
“The little tiff at the house, it, unfortunately, wasn’t recorded.”
“You tampered with evidence?” My voice catches in my throat.
He didn’t. He wouldn’t.
The Department of Justice has its separate investigation department for employees suspected of violating the FBI’s standards of conduct, the Office of Professional Responsibility, O.P.R.
I could have used that tape against him, but now it’s gone. Without it, it’s his word against mine. And he’d probably blame it on Mikhail.
“I didn’t do anything,” Aaron says, a glint in his eyes. “One of the backup drives failed saving yesterday’s data. It’s a shame.” He stalks past me, beaming with pride.
I want to kill him.
But I’m not a murderer.
I know a man who is, one who’s capable of brutality and savagery. But I’m not the kind of person who would call for a hit.
I’m a federal agent.
I’m supposed to be on the right side of the law. But then why does being right feel wrong?
I head out for lunch and am grateful the day is half over, and I can go home tonight to curl up in bed with a good book. I need a night to myself to unwind and relax.
“Do you want company?” Savannah asks as I lock my computer console.
“Sure, if you don’t mind going out in the rain.”
It’s dark outside, the long, picturesque windows make it seem like it’s nighttime, but it’s because it’s storming.
“You don’t want to grab something from downstairs?” she suggests.
I don’t want to be anywhere near Aaron, but that’s not something I’m ready to discuss with Savannah while at work.
“It’s just a little rain.”
Savannah chuckles. “You’re going to get soaked. Bring me back something, anything.”
I grab my umbrella and head down to the elevator. The lights flicker, and I grumble. I swear if I get stuck in the elevator instead of getting to enjoy a nice quiet lunch by myself, I’m going to be in a grumpy mood.
I could take the stairs, but I’m hungry, and I want to make it before the lunch crowd shows up. Although with the storm, it’s possible it could be quiet.
Thankfully, the elevator doesn’t get stuck, and I get the pleasure of getting soaked in the rainstorm.
I hurry with my umbrella outside. It does little to shield me from the torrential downpour. Maybe Savannah was right, and I should have stayed in for lunch. I could have waited until Aaron came back. I doubt that he went out to lunch in this weather.
I hurry down the block, waiting for traffic to clear and the light to change before I can cross the street.
A black SUV stops at the crosswalk, and the window rolls down.
“Get in,” Mikhail says.
I’m already soaked. It’s reminiscent of the first time I climbed into the vehicle with him. I exhale a breath.
“I think I’ll walk. It’s a lovely day.”
He rolls his eyes at my joke. He’s not the least bit amused by my sense of humor.
The vehicle behind him honks its horn when he doesn’t turn quickly enough because he’s trying to convince me to come with him. I don’t know where he’s going or what he intends to do to me.
I gesture for him to move on. I’m not getting in, and he’s blocking the flow of traffic and pedestrians from crossing.
He closes his window, and the driver slowly lurches forward. The hazard lights flip on, and Mikhail jumps out into the rain.
“See what you made me do?”
“Really? We’re doing this now?” I ask. We’re just outside the FBI field office. There are cameras everywhere, not that I have anything to hide.
“Who did that to you?” Mikhail asks, staring at my bruise. “Was it that scumbag, Aaron?”