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Avery
“Damn it!” I fumbled with my hair, smoothing back the red tendrils that had broken free from the bun. My hair had to be perfect, not a piece out of place.
“You look great, Avery,” Madison commented. I looked at her, marveling at how healthy and beautiful she looked. She had healed well over the past month and her bruises and scars had faded. She was still struggling, still trying to cope with Liam’s death, but just like her scars, those struggles were slowly dissipating.
“I’m wrinkled.” I scrunched up my nose and sighed. My shirt wasn’t nearly as pressed as I liked. Hopefully, no one would notice.
“You’re not.” Madison’s eyes found mine and they softened and looked at me with friendship, not seeing the lack of perfection I saw. She didn’t know what it was like to have a father who scrutinized her every move, who criticized everything she did. A question formed in her eyes, furrowing her brow, and I knew she wouldn’t understand.
I inwardly sighed. “You just don’t know what my father’s like, Madison. He’s—”
“You don’t have to explain, Avery. I know what it’s like to have an asshole for a father.” She smiled at me. It wasn’t filled with humor but with a sad understanding. Her father was a serial killer. Was being the key word in her situation. My father, however, ran the FBI and made sure I knew the high expectations he had for me as often as he could. And wrinkles did not fall into his plans for having a perfect daughter.
I offered Madison a small smile back, a simple gesture in an unspoken understanding between us. That was what I loved about our friendship. So often we could just be. No words had to be spoken. No long hash out of feelings. We just knew what the other needed. And in that moment, I needed to not be having this conversation.
“Let’s go. We can’t be late for our own graduation,” Madison said as she grabbed my hand. Her change in subject was exactly as I intended. I didn’t want to talk anymore. Not now, possibly not ever. Although I didn’t like to admit to needing anyone, having Madison in my life was refreshing. When you needed someone it brought about this dependency, this expectancy that they would be there for you. But what happened when they weren’t there anymore? What happened then? I didn’t want to be left picking up the pieces of loss. So to avoid it, I dodged attachments. It was easier that way. It didn’t matter whether I admitted needing Madison; she was the sister I always wanted.
Gathering my emotions, I nodded, letting her guide the way. “Right.” We headed down the hall and lined up behind the other graduates. As we filed into the auditorium, the crowd had already filled the room. Reporters lined the sides, waiting to get a glimpse of Madison and the women who had helped end the reign of The Beautiful Masterpiece Killer. That was the sensationalist title. It was screwed up. They were criminals who needed to be caught and giving them this extra attention was just perpetuating their glory. They didn’t deserve any other attention than rotting in jail.
I tried not to look at all of the people. I hated the pomp and circumstance of a graduation. I wanted the day to be over. I never liked being fussed over and gawked at. Heat crept into my cheeks as my self-conscious tendencies crept in, and I tried to remember if I had pressed my pants enough. I looked straight ahead and stared at the jumbled faces of the crowd, willing myself to remain calm and unaffected. Bright lights flooding the ceremony distorted each person allowing me to calm my self-conscious nerves. I let my mind wander, blocking out the monotonous voice of the speaker. Graduating from the FBI was all I had ever wanted for myself. Since before I could walk, I had mirrored my father, choosing to play cops and robbers over dress up. But waiting to be handed the badge I had wanted my entire life, I still couldn’t help but feel like something was missing.
“Avery Grant.”
The deep vibrato of the voice jolted me out of my thoughts.
“It is with great pleasure that I offer Cadet Grant not only her badge, but this plaque signifying her achievement as top recruit in her graduating class. She will be given her badge by her father, Deputy Director Ethan Grant of the FBI.”
Everyone rose as they clapped and cheered for me. I took the badge from my father, and he hugged me awkwardly while whispering in my ear, “Good Job. Your mother would be proud of you.”
Emotion tugged at my chest when he released me. I straightened my shoulders and stared straight ahead again, focusing on the illuminated EXIT sign. I willed myself not to succumb to the sadness that loomed over me. This was everything I ever wanted: to get my badge and live a life of fighting crime with no baggage to hold me back from achieving my dreams. No matter how many times I reminded myself of this, that sadness still found me.
Sadness was fickle. It wasn’t loneliness. I was far too busy for that. I never tried to figure out what could be the cause. I just pushed it aside like every other emotion. The sadness left me as Desiree Garcia and Eden Marshall’s names were called and I burst with pride. Each of us had struggled in our own way to get where we were. We deserved this. We deserved our badges.
When the master of ceremonies called Madison’s name, the reporters snapped their cameras ferociously. Scott Reynolds issued her badge and they embraced. Scott was a special agent with the FBI and helped catch The Beautiful Masterpiece Killer. He was also Madison’s fiancé. The reporters ate that up. A love story amongst the madness. There was no doubt in my mind that they had that real kind of love. The kind that women bought those romance books with the big strapping men on the covers for. It wasn’t all flowers and candy; it was built in blood. A foundation grounded so deep in heartache and struggle that I knew no matter what happened to them, Scott and Madison would persevere and continue to grow together.
I couldn’t help but frown at the thought of love. I believed it existed when I looked at my best friend and her fiancé and replayed their story in my head. I needed to apprehend the criminals. That was my life, my chosen path. There was no time for love, and I was content with that.
After the ceremony, families and friends greeted the new FBI agents. Everyone beamed with pride and words of congratulations flowed. Of course, my dad was whisked off to some crime scene, and I was left alone as I often was. I headed down the hallway to the bathroom, stopping at the work assignments on the bulletin board.
I smiled, discovering that Madison and I were assigned as partners to the Quantico Counterintelligence unit. I chuckled when I found Garcia and Marshall’s name as they were assigned as partners but in Washington, D.C. on the Joint Terrorism Taskforce. We each had our areas of expertise: Garcia focused on religion and terrorism in her undergrad and Marshall terrorism and human trafficking. Madison was a forensic psychologist, but I had the criminal justice degree and prior experience working as a liaison for the police department. We were all new agents, but our experience and education were sound. This gave us the leg up to be set apart from the rest, given higher positions within the FBI. Not to mention, my father. He liked to control every aspect of my career. So I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a hand in where I was assigned.
I was grateful that we were all still close. We could have our weekend get-togethers at the Down Under Pub. Since the night reporter Christopher Singleton was murdered, after talking with Madison there, the bar had become our local hangout spot, and we loved the laid-back atmosphere that catered to the local law enforcement.
“Ahem.” The clearing of a throat brought me from my thoughts. I turned around. Madison’s deep brown eyes stared at me, her hand intertwined with Scott’s.
“Guess it’s you and me.”
“Guess it is,” I said as I watched the families pass by together. Feelings of loneliness surrounded me, but like I did with every other emotion, I pushed it aside.
“Don’t sound too happy about it. Sheesh.” Madison smiled at my contrite expression and then frowned. “It just kind of stinks. I’ll be staying here in Virginia, and Scott has to go back to New York. They need him at the field office, especially after what happened with Liam.” As sadness filled her eyes, Madison looked at Scott. We had talked about the likelihood that she and Scott would be separated. I knew she would be upset, but I also knew they’d be okay because if their love could grow in blood and death, it could overcome anything.
“I have to go chat with Torres. I’ll be right back.” Scott kissed Madison on her forehead and left. He was now partnered with Agent Emmanuel Torres, a new guy who had just joined the force a few months ago. He’d helped Madison the night her father was killed and seemed like a decent enough guy. Madison liked him, and for Scott, that was all that mattered.
“What?” I asked as Madison stared at me. Emotion filled her eyes as she moved closer to me.
“I’m just thinking about that night Liam died—”
“Madison, don’t,” I growled.
“No. It’s good. It wasn’t all bad. It made me realize what a great friend I had in you. You hiding the journal for me. Giving me the closure has allowed me to be ten times stronger than I would’ve been.” She closed her eyes, taking a minute to compose herself.
“So what I’m trying to say is thanks for everything. For having my back through all of this,” Madison said, putting her arm around my shoulder. My body went rigid at her touch, but I softened as she smiled down at me.
“Anytime, Harper.” I pulled her in and hugged her tightly. “Now, let’s go catch these sons of bitches.”
—————————————
The ceremony dispersed, and we all headed out to the cemetery. Liam taking his own life was the ultimate sacrifice. Being an agent partnered with Scott, he struggled with his own demons and desires to kill. Madison was his escape, his tether to reality, but her love for Scott was unparalleled. She couldn’t be there for Liam in the capacity that he needed. His death had impacted everyone, but it was Madison who felt it the most. I watched as she and Scott walked hand in hand and weaved in and out of the gravestones that lined the grass-laden rows. Garcia and Marshall walked behind them, huddled close together, silence permeating around them. Dead flowers and half-melted candles sat at the bases of many of the plots. I briefly glanced at the names as we walked by in silence. So many taken so young. So many who were never able to live their lives to the fullest.
We stopped in front of a small plaque that was embedded in the grass. No one moved, but I couldn’t resist gently running my fingers over his name, Liam James O’Leary, and the years in which he was on this earth, 1983-2015. That was the only etching on the gravestone. It was too simplistic and didn’t give a true indication of the magnitude with which Liam had touched our lives.
I looked around at our group, Garcia, Marshall, Scott, and Madison. They all shifted, trying to find a comfortable stance in such an uncomfortable situation. How did you stand when facing the resting place of a man who’d taken his own life? A man who had struggled so deeply with his demons he’d felt he had no other choice? It was then that Madison fell to the ground and wept. Deep sobs pierced through the darkening sky and Scott knelt down beside her and brought her close to his chest. Where she was weak, he was strong. They were perfect for each other. A perfect balance.
Tears glistened in Garcia and Marshall’s eyes as they watched the scene unfold. I felt it all. Everyone’s emotions barreled into my chest. I wanted to kneel down next to Madison and cry with her. I wanted to cry for Madison, for her life that had been irrevocably changed the day her father had killed her mother. I wanted to cry for Liam and the abuse he had witnessed and endured during his childhood. The abuse he wasn’t able to leave behind. The abuse that had eaten away at him. But I also wanted to cry for myself. For my mother who was buried not too far away from where I stood. I couldn’t bring myself to visit her, not even after twenty-two years. Tears stung my eyes and I fought them back. I had to be strong and push all my emotions aside. Opening myself up and allowing myself to be vulnerable left room for pain. I looked at my friend, who had gained so much love, so much hope over the past few weeks.
Everything fell silent, the wind, the noise of trees swaying behind us. The world seemed to stop and wait, opening its ears and heart to what was about to happen. Madison stood and her legs wobbled beneath her. Scott braced himself against her and helped her stand.
“Liam was a good man.” Madison’s voice broke. For the first time she was owning her feelings about Liam. She had shared these with me many times but voicing them so intimately with all her friends, it meant so much more. It was the truth. Her body shuddered with the cold as the wind crept in. It brushed at her hair, a live force entangling her curls in the stream of tears drying on her skin. “He took the life of Walsh, of my father.” A single tear fell down her face. “He took that life so I could live. Free from pain. Free from the torment that had been his life.” She bent over, placing her hand on the gravestone.
“Many would say taking his own life was the coward’s way out, but Liam was anything but a coward. He sacrificed himself so others could live.” Sobs came from Garcia, Marshall, and Madison.
Scott turned his head to look at me. His eyes held the gentle love and care that seemed to seep from him all the time. He nodded at me, a simple motion that held so much. It was his permission, his acknowledgement of my struggle that allowed me to show what I felt going on around us. Each emotion. Each memory. One single tear broke free and I left it there before the wind whisked it away.
