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Avery
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“I don’t have time for this.” I pulled my father aside, out of the reach of Evan and Adams. I knew my dad, and he wouldn’t keep his mouth shut, especially when he felt strongly about something.
“You think I do?” His fierce green eyes bored into me. The familiar fear mixed with resentment swirled within me. I had let him down. I’d only ever wanted to make him see me. To see me as worthy. “It’s quite embarrassing when you hear about your daughter from the other agents. Talking about how she’s fraternizing with a local detective.”
The hair on my arms stood on end at his tone. My disappointment was quickly replaced with annoyance. My father was an asshole, and he was so clearly trying to insinuate that Evan was a lesser man because he was only a local cop.
“I thought I taught you better than that.”
The laugh that spurred from my throat was anything but happy. I glared at my father as he firmly placed his arms across his chest. Something he had taught me. And it dawned on me. My own father had taught me how to be an asshole.
I remembered one of the few times my father took me to the park.
“Look at me, Daddy!” I waved as I hung upside down from the monkey bars. He barely smiled as he talked on the phone. I frowned. Maybe if I swung with one leg, he’d notice me!
One leg and no hands sent me falling to the ground, hard.
“Owww!” I writhed on the ground in pain. I watched through the tears as my dad hung up the phone and slowly walked over to me and knelt beside me.
“Is anything broken?”
I stared at him wide-eyed. I was nine. Not privy to the art of broken bones. I shrugged.
“If you can shrug, nothing’s broken. Get up.” I winced as I put weight on my leg to stand. My dad stood over me and didn’t lend me a hand. I glanced around as people watched, a few mothers shaking their heads in disgust.
“My ankle.” I limped as I followed behind my dad.
“Life hurts, Avery. You need to push all the feelings aside and focus on the task at hand.” I stopped when he turned around and looked at me. It was the first time he’d looked me in the eyes in a long time. Usually, he walked by me without a second glance, but now, when he should have held me and checked me over for injuries, I was being scolded. The sad thing was, all I could think about was what I had done wrong.
“Do you know what the task at hand is?” I shook my head, wiping my eyes with my shirt.
“To be the best. To never let anyone know your weakness. That’s how you’ll succeed because they’ll have nothing to use against you.”
I nodded and squared off my shoulders. He gave me a small smile with those actions. I guessed it showed him that I took his words to heart, because I did. I always did. I’d do anything to get my father to notice me, to love me. That day my father taught me to be disconnected. A hard worker who took no shit, but refused love and friendship because anyone I was close to was a weakness.
That memory caused such clarity I was furious. Furious with myself for believing what he told me and never doing anything beyond training, working, and molding myself into an agent. Some people would think that I was ambitious, but at what cost? Madison, Marshall, and Garcia were my first real friends. I was beginning to realize that weaknesses made you stronger when you faced them head-on. My friends, even Evan, they were the first attempt at that, and I wouldn’t give any of them up and I most certainly wouldn’t let my father talk badly about a man who helped me to realize these things.
“Taught me? What have you taught me, Director Grant?” My father’s formal name rolled off my tongue with as much malicious intent as I could muster. “You taught me nothing of any use. I am a closed-off bitch who is too afraid to love because of you.” I moved closer to my father, pushing his chest with my finger. “You’ve been too busy to care about me since the day I was born. I’ve tried so hard to be like you. Leaving my dolls aside and trying to fight crime and mirror your image, and what did you do? You left Mom and me alone, only saving your words for when you’d tell me how I could be better. How I wasn’t good enough.” I took a deep breath.
“Well, Dad, you got your wish. I let someone in. I fell in love. And it hurt even worse than falling off that jungle gym when I was nine and you making me walk all the way home on my sprained ankle. So screw you and your lessons that I believed! All I wanted was to be loved. Some attention, a hug, a kiss goodnight.” I threw up my arms. “But look at me now, graduated top of my FBI class, but I have nothing to show for my success except this job.” I chuckled. “That even you control, Dad. Or should I say, Director Grant.” I backed away. I looked into my father’s eyes. The man who had never once showed me any affection. I blamed him for a lot of things. It wasn’t fair, really, because I was an adult, and I could choose what I wanted. Who I wanted. Who I wanted to be. Who I wanted to love. But I didn’t. I still saw myself as that little girl, wanting her father to love her.
“I won’t embarrass you again, Father. But like you taught me, love in this field is just a nuisance. So, he won’t be a problem anymore. I won’t be a problem anymore.” My father didn’t try to comfort me. He just looked around as I raised my voice, making sure no one could hear what I was saying.
“I’m just like you, Dad. Aren’t you proud?” As tears streamed down my face, I turned on my heels and walked away. I heard nothing. He didn’t call after me. He let me walk away.
“Grant!” Torres ran toward me, and I swiped away the tears. I knew my face was probably bright red and showed that I had been crying, but I also knew no one would dare mention it.
“Everyone’s here. We are heading in now.” I was handed a two-way that I firmly secured in my pants.
“Scott and Madison?” I asked as I checked my weapon to make sure it had plenty of ammo.
“They’re still too far behind for us to wait. We have to go in now.” Before I could reply, a blood-curdling scream shattered that little bit of hope that was floating within us—the hope that told us Garcia and Marshall were really safe, and we’d just had faulty information.
“Shit, that sounded like Garcia.” Torres spun around and ran toward the scream.
“Let’s go,” Evan’s voice called after me as he and Adams ran after Torres. My legs pumped underneath me as I ran to save my friend. I had to save one of the few people I had let into my life and into my heart. I whispered silent words to myself, sending them off to whoever was listening. Please, just let her be okay.
Agents and police dogs roamed the vast acres of land before us. Large and daunting, it felt nearly impossible that we would get to her in time. I let my legs carry me, but I lost sight of Torres, Adams, and Evan in front of me. Instead, I came to a field of corn, the stalks tall and blocking my way. Forcing my way through, they hit me in the face as I slowed my pace. And then I heard it: voices, chants. With each step I took, they were getting closer.
As I neared the end of the cornfield, I hid myself behind the nearest stalks. My breathing was staggered and uneven from the run. Fear pounded at my chest. I wasn’t fearful for myself, but for Garcia. For what I was about to see. Glancing around the cornstalks, I held onto my gasp.
Garcia was bound, her hands tied behind her back, her feet in front of her. Her jet-black hair was matted and clung to her tearstained face. Blood stained her bare skin. She was naked to the world, to everyone chanting to the darkened skies above. Exposed and alone.
I thought briefly about what I could do to stop this. Using my two-way would bring attention to myself. While I was a good fighter, I couldn’t fight the mass of people before me. From what I could see there were at least ten, not including Lorelei and Jameson.
Taking in the surroundings again, I saw a huge hole in the ground, dug and ready for something. Someone, I thought to myself as I shuddered.
“We are gathered here to offer the last sacrifice to Lucifer!” Lorelei’s voice carried over the blazing fire. “Bring me the cup!” Jameson hung his head as he walked over to Lorelei with a cup.
“We give this sacrifice the blood of all of our sacrifices. To make her strong. To make her perfect for our god.” Lorelei smiled as she pried open Garcia’s mouth. Garcia fought, moving wildly and trying to clamp her mouth shut. I smiled to myself. Fight, Garcia. Don’t give up.
“Help me!” Lorelei screamed to Jameson.
He looked around at the blazing fire at his followers, and I saw his entire body stiffen at the sight before him. It was something out of a horror film: the people’s eyes reflecting the fire, Lorelei’s smile that seemed so out of place for the occasion. He looked how I felt. Scared.
“Lorelei, enough. This is crazy.” Jameson took the cup from Lorelei.
“Shut up, Jameson. You promised me that we would finish this!” He sighed, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. Lorelei smiled when she was finally able to get Garcia’s mouth open. Jameson let the contents of the cup flow into Garcia’s mouth. And after she was forced to drink it, Lorelei kicked her in the back, sending Garcia plummeting into the grave below. They were going to bury her alive. I had to do something. Pushing aside my own safety, I reached for my two-way.
“Evan!” I whispered into the device.
“Avery? Where are you?”
“Just at the end of cornfields. Send backup. They are going to bury her alive,” I whispered frantically.
My whispers were in vain. I looked up, and there she was. Lorelei. Standing right in front of me. I smiled at her. She was so different than I’d imagined. Her long blonde hair cascaded around her body. She looked so innocent. But with the unfolding scene, and from the scene I’d watched on the Down Under Pub surveillance videos, this woman was anything but innocent.
I quickly glanced back to make sure Garcia was okay. Jameson stood in front of the fire and the fresh grave. Sadness flickered across his face as Garcia’s moans filled the air.
Lorelei didn’t once take her eyes off me as she screamed, “Bury her!”
“Don’t worry, Garcia. Help is coming.” I projected my voice as loud as I could, so Garcia could hear me.
All I heard in return were Garcia’s screams. They had been loud at first, but as the followers grabbed shovels and began filling the hole with dirt, those sounds had lessened. Jameson stood there, watching as his followers covered Garcia in dirt. He held a shovel in his shaking hand. I knew then that I had to make my move.
I ran toward Lorelei, catching her off guard as she smiled at the scene before her. We fell to the ground with a loud thud, and I took my fists and I beat into her pretty little face. She held her arms up in defense, but it didn’t matter. I found her exposed weaknesses. I found the places she couldn’t protect.
A loud crack ran through my ears, and my skull cracked under the pressure of steel. My eyes fought to stay open, but the pain took me, and I fell beside the bleeding body of the woman who had killed my friend.
