Ben - The beautiful disaster
Jesus, she was a beautiful disaster.
Even when she was a trembling mess in a ball on the floor with tears streaming down her face, she was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. The contrast between her pitch black hair and pale skin, and the way her forest green eyes popped made her striking. She probably caused every man in her wake to make a double-take. But those tears, the way she flinched away from my touch, it fucking gutted me, and it made killing that bastard even more tempting– even though our whole case depended on him being alive long enough to see the inside of a court room.
Through the two-way mirror, I watched her pull the ponytail out of her long, black hair and start massaging her scalp. She looked extra small wearing my sweatshirt. The fact that she still had it on made me oddly pleased. I liked that she was wearing something of mine . The second that thought struck my mind, I shifted uncomfortably at the notion that I was attracted to her. Then again, every guy here was probably feeling that. Even under the harsh lighting and looking completely exhausted, her beauty was out of place here.
Here .
She was fucking here . Which was nothing short of a disaster. She inserted herself into a federal investigation. My federal investigation. I leaned back in my chair and raked a hand over my long hair. I needed a haircut. I needed an hour to myself to go get a damned haircut.
I clenched my jaw at the sight of her puffy eye. She’d have a shiner for sure. That pissed me the hell off. She shouldn’t have been hurt. I hated seeing innocent bystanders pulled into our world. And damn did she really enter our world in a big fucking way. How would she get out of it was now the question.
She wasn’t necessarily helping herself here though. She’d been very tight-lipped about how she knew the neighbor, and we needed every detail she could give.
But maybe we’d been going about this all wrong. Maybe having Coleson talk to her was a bad idea. As a former rugby guy, he was a pretty intimidating dude. Standing at 6’4 with his tattoos peeking up his collar, I’m not sure he should’ve been leading this part. I mean, I was pretty built too, but he had a couple inches of height and thickness on me. I chewed on the inside of my cheek and was hit with an idea…
Propping the door, I called out, “Hey, Rodrigo?”
She immediately pushed out of her cubicle and walked over with her perfectly rigid posture, her hair in its usual tight black bun. She leaned against the door and peeked in to see Margaret sitting there looking bored. Rodrigo was a field agent, a pretty good damn one at that, and she’d probably end up running this place one day. This wasn’t my home office, but I still outranked her, for now. She arched a skeptical eyebrow at me.
“Can you talk to her?” I asked, hoping she’d take pity on me.
“Me? Why?” She looked down at Coleson and I sitting, an unimpressed expression on her face. She crossed her elegant arms, which I knew for a fact were way more powerful than they looked– she’d taken me down a couple times during training. “So you two can sit on your asses while I do all the work?” She cocked her head to the side. “And why might you be singling me out?” She hitched a thumb back at where her partner was sitting. “Jettsen’s sitting right there.”
I sucked in my top lip, trying to choose my words carefully. “Can you just casually talk? See what she says about the neighbor?”
“Yeah, some girl talk,” Coleson pipped in with a shit-eating grin. He leaned back in his chair and smoothed his hands over his unruly dirty blonde hair.
Idiot. I internally cringed. Over the past couple weeks, it became obvious that the two of them loved getting on each other’s nerves– and not in a cute, flirty way, it was more of a I-want-to-kill-you kind of way. Usually I didn't care, but now was not the time.
She snapped her gum and smirked. “Oh, so you want me to go in there and braid her hair?”
Coleson pouted his lip out in thought.
“Don’t say a word,” I muttered to my partner. He’d been one of my best friends for the past two decades of life, so I knew he was about to crack a stupid joke just to piss her off.
“You two are ridiculous,” she said, pushing him further.
“I didn’t say anything!” Coleson protested. I felt his gaze land on my cheek. “Tell her, Capretti, I stayed shut up, just like you said.”
“But I know what you were thinking,” she argued.
His eyes widened. “So now you get in trouble for thoughts? I’m thinking of punching Cap in the jaw right now, is that gonna get me in trouble?”
“Dude, stop talking,” I muttered, then turned my attention back to her. “Yes, I singled you out because you’re a woman. I just think she might be more comfortable talking to you. She was just attacked by a piece of shit, and she doesn't look too comfortable here, does she?” I gestured to her through the window. “And Coleson’s a big ogre who probably scared her.”
His eyebrows slammed down. “Hey–”
I held a hand up to shut him up and stared at Rodrigo, waiting for an answer.
Rodrigo rolled her eyes, but I could practically see her walls breaking down. She had a soft spot for women who found their way in here. We all did.
“Fine.” She turned to stalk away. “But I’m only helping so you guys can finally finish this case and get out of here already.” She muttered something under her breath about being sick of Coleson’s ugly face.
“Bring her some ice for her eye, might help get things started,” I added.
Without looking back, she threw us the bird over her shoulder.
I turned to see Coleson staring straight ahead, his big jaw clenched.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m thinking thoughts that’ll get me in trouble,” he grumbled.
I cracked a grin while reaching for my coffee.
A couple minutes later, we watched Rodrigo walk in and sit across from her. She gratefully accepted the ice pack and winced as she placed it to her eye.
Uncomfortable tension swirled in my chest and I balled my fists for some kind of release. I fucking hated seeing the evidence of her pain.
“Has anyone checked her out?” I demanded, not taking my eyes off them.
“You worried about her?” Coleson asked. “Because you like her?” he added in a teasing tone.
I shot him a hard glare. This was not the time or place to be asking that question.
“What?” He laughed. “Lighten up man.” He slapped my shoulder and I automatically shoved him off a little harder than necessary. I internally cringed at my reaction, but he moved right past it. He was used to it from me. He knew I hated anyone touching me. “She is hot. I wouldn’t blame you. She’s exactly your type,” he said, arching an eyebrow at me.
“I don’t have a type,” I grunted back, only humoring him with continuing this conversation because I felt bad about shoving him.
“Ha!” He burst out and leaned back in his chair. “You forget I’ve known you since we were kids? I know you better than yourself, asshole. You totally do have a type, and you’re staring right at her.”
I ground my back teeth, trying to keep my annoyance at bay. She was beautiful– that was a fact. But that didn’t mean I liked her. She wasn’t just my type, she was everyone’s type.
“Just answer the question,” I sighed, “did you have medics check her when she got here or not, dumbass?”
Coleson rubbed his jaw. So that was a no.
I bit back a curse.
“The threat to her life was kind of our first thought,” Coleson argued. “They said–”
“I don’t care what anyone else said,” I snapped. This wasn’t protocol.
“Well, I checked her eyes, they looked fine,” Coleson said defensively.
I balked at him. “ Looked fine?” I shook my head. Coleson had been in charge of taking her in and interviewing her while I stayed back at the scene to clean things up.
It felt shitty to send her off in that car by herself. The shock on her face when I closed the door on her… it didn’t sit well with me, and I felt uneasy until I made it back to her.
While I wanted to stay with her, I didn’t have a choice. This case needed to be airtight. I couldn’t trust anyone else to document that apartment. There were multiple dead bodies littering the ground, that’s why I ordered her not to look down on her way out.
Coleson shrugged. “Smitty’s not in today.” Agent Smith was the resident medic around here because he started out as an EMT. “And it’s not like we could let her ride off in the ambulance without figuring this out first. Why would we get her admitted under her real name when she’s a target? They’d track her in two seconds. We need to get her squared away in Witness Protection first.”
My nose flared with an angry breath. That was probably true. She was now a walking target for a fucking drug ring that sold highly addictive, highly dangerous drugs. What’s worse is that they were becoming known for off-ing people through “accidental” overdoses all over the state. According to Coleson’s report, that dipshit who attacked her took a picture of her on his phone, so the whole organization probably knew what she looked like by now, and they’d surely see her as someone who aided the cops, they’d maybe even think she was a plant. The way Coleson looked at me, he knew it too. I dropped my head in my hands and rubbed my forehead. This was such a mess. We’d been casing out how to legally enter his apartment for weeks now. Saving her gave us that opportunity, but it was going to cost her. Did she even know how bad of a spot she was now in? I didn’t want to scare her, but she should be aware.
“Well, maybe–”
“Wait.” I held up a hand to silence him. Rodrigo was getting her to talk.
The words were tumbling out of her now. I punched the volume button up.
“I mean, he was cute, wasn’t he?” Her green eyes were desperate. “I thought he liked me,” her voice cracked. “He told me he was a veterinarian and even that’s cute. How the hell was I supposed to know he was lying? Who lies about their profession?”
I rubbed my forehead in frustration. Plenty of people , I mentally answered her. She was way too trusting.
“And you only had that one interaction with Timothy Green?” Rodrigo asked.
Her slender throat, which was now sporting fucking bruises, bobbed with a swallow. “Yes, I moved in that apartment literally two days ago. I broke a mirror and all the shards went all over the hallway and he helped me clean it, so I thought he was this nice guy. But then this morning, I went to work in the extra room because it was a remote day and–”
Don Halston, the boss around here, who was barely older than us and had somehow managed to secure the head of the Colorado branch– something that screamed nepotism based on who his daddy was– walked in wearing his perfectly tailored suit and fancy dress shoes, with his blonde hair gelled back. I never wanted to dress that way. I loved that working undercover allowed me to wear joggers and a t-shirt pretty much every day.
“How the hell did this happen?” he demanded, throwing a folder on the desk in front of us. I bet he couldn’t wait to ream us out, couldn’t wait to goad us into doing or saying something stupid to him so he could suspend us or kick us the hell out of the state.
“She witnessed him murdering a dude,” Coleson said in a bored tone.
“Weren’t you all casing this?” he demanded, fury on his face.
“Yes, but we didn’t see it. She did,” Coleson answered with a shrug.
He grumbled a curse and turned to watch her talk with Rodrigo. “She witnessed it happen?” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Pretty much.” I handed him the transcript of what she said earlier to Coleson.
He scanned over the interview. “Get her to testify,” he ordered.
My chest tightened uncomfortably. “Aren’t they going to know we’ll use her to testify?”
He eyed me and a slight smirk played on his thin lips. “Yupp, and that’s why you’re going to protect her until then.”
Did he just point at me? No…
My heart pretty much stopped functioning in my chest. “Wait, me?”
“Yes, you.” He arched an eyebrow. “Unless you think someone else would be better at it?”
“You want me to… protect her?” I clarified.
“Yes. You have experience, don’t you, Cap?” Now he full-on smirked. I forced myself to keep a blank face despite the red-hot anger roaring to life inside me. We both knew he was using my nickname teasingly, sarcastically. And I didn’t need to show him just how badly the last operation fucked with my head.
I licked my lips and directed my gaze back to her. “Why not put her in witness protection? Isn’t she the perfect candidate?”
“She denied it.”
Coleson blanched.
Fuck. My jaw tightened. “Why?”
“Yeah, why? She have a death wish or some shit?” Coleson asked incredulously.
“We can’t force people into it. She says she doesn’t want a new life. But we need her.”
“What if she denies this protection service you’re requesting?” I asked.
“Then she’s a dead girl walking,” he said dryly.
I leaned back and raked my hands through my hair. And if I failed at this, she’d be dead. My chest suddenly felt like a ticking time bomb.
“Convince her she needs you. Her life depends on it, and this whole case depends on her life. You want to close this and make it back to the fancy Capitol? You’ll protect her ‘til she testifies,” he ordered.
“And what about after she testifies?” Would this ever really be over for her?
He smirked. “Not our problem.”
“What the hell?” Coleson answered for me, a disgusted look on his face.
“Look, if we do a good enough job with the case,” he held a finger down on the folder laying on the desk, “the organization will fall and she’ll have nothing to worry about. If it doesn’t fall, she’ll have to be worried for the rest of her life, which, let’s face it, will probably be pretty short.” He gave a careless shrug and snorted a laugh. Coleson and I were silent, both reeling with anger we had to keep at bay. The way he so carelessly talked about people’s lives was infuriating. I hated the fucker. “It’s in her best interest to testify. Make sure she knows that.”
Don strode out and walked into the room with her. I slowly got up. Pushing up the sleeves of my henley and blowing out a sigh, my mind started reeling over my new assignment.
“This is weird, right?” I eyed Coleson. I literally came out to Colorado for a fucking break because of a witness protection case that went wrong– so wrong that it still kept me up at night. This new assignment rattled me in a way that it shouldn’t, telling me I clearly wasn’t over everything. Maybe I’d never be.
He frowned, thinking it over. “The universe works in mysterious ways, my friend.”
I rolled my shoulders, trying to ready myself to speak to her.
“Be nice,” Coleson chided.
I shot him an unimpressed look.
Right as I reached for the door, he cleared his throat. “And don’t get attached,” he added in a much more serious tone.
My body froze in the doorway. A fair warning. He knew what happened back in D.C. and this felt all too similar. But this time, I knew the exact threat against her. And I knew she had a snowball's chance in hell at surviving all of this.
_________
She still held the ice pack to her right eye as Don talked to her.
“Alright Ms. Quinn,” he started.
“Maggie,” she corrected in a sullen tone that told me she’d rather be anywhere else than here. That made two of us.
“Alright Maggie, this is agent Ben Capretti.” I could feel those green eyes of hers scanning me over. I was trained to detect even the slightest movements in people, to read people. So I definitely noticed the way her gaze darted to my ring-less left hand and the little blush that crept into her cheeks afterwards. I swallowed hard and tucked my hands into my pockets. That little bashful look on her face was not good for either of us. “He’s going to be the agent assigned to your case.”
“My… case?” she squeaked out. She sat a little straighter, her eyes jumping between me and Don. “Am I in trouble?”
My eyebrows pinched. She was just attacked, how the hell could she think she was in trouble? Unless we were treating her like a prisoner. Fuck. That made me feel like a total asshole.
Don’s watch went off, probably well-timed. I had to force myself not to roll my eyes. He was never one to get too into the details, aka the real work, around here. Before leaving, he reached to shake my hand. “You’ll get this squared away?” he asked as he gripped my hand.
I gave a sharp nod.
“Don’t fuck it up,” a cocky grin crossed his face, “again.”
I struggled to keep my snarl at bay as he walked out. I counted my breaths so I wouldn’t give into the very real temptation of grabbing his shoulder, spinning him around, and throat-punching him.
As soon as the door shut behind him, I slowly took a seat opposite of her. I shifted to get more comfortable, but these metal chairs were too damn small.
Her forehead creased with worry. “Is Mildred going to be okay? And her cat?”
“Mildred?”
She pulled her long black hair over her shoulder and it was hard to take my eyes off it. “The older lady who called the police for me.”
“Yeah, she’ll be fine. You know her well?”
She shrugged. “She invited me into her apartment the other night and we had a nice chat. We were going to start a book club. I’m supposed to watch The Bachelor with her on Monday. Thank God she takes care of that ugly cat and leaves bells out for it.” She paused, realizing she just gave me too much information. A nervous rambler. I filed that information about her in my brain. Her face flushed a little. “Mildred saw him all crazy and aggressive too. Shouldn’t she be here with me?”
I rubbed my jaw as I studied her. I couldn't pay attention to her question because I couldn't get over how trusting she was. Her file said she was 30 years old. How could she be this innocent? Ignorant was probably a better word. Foolish, even. Jesus, how was I supposed to keep her alive?
“Let me get this straight,” I squinted at her, “You just walked into a stranger’s apartment?”
Her mouth opened and closed, like she was lost for words, then she snapped, “Well, good thing I did, huh? She saved me.”
We saved you, I wanted to snap back, which was weird. I never usually cared about the credit, and Mildred did help.
“Why isn’t she here?” she demanded.
I sucked in my top lip. How did I put this lightly… “Mildred saw a man acting aggressive toward a woman. You,” I paused and tapped on the table, “pretty much saw him murder a guy, and then saw the dead bodies. Big difference.”
Her eyes fell. “Body,” she clarified quietly.
I arched an eyebrow. “Huh?”
Her chest rose with a large inhale. “I bumped into a dead body in his apartment. I–” Her chin quivered.
My entire body stiffened. I wouldn’t know how to handle it if she started crying. What would I do? Comfort her? How? Give her a pat on the head?
“I felt the face,” she finished.
My stomach clenched for her. That couldn’t have been easy for her. Even after a decade in this business, it was still sometimes hard for me to witness the losses.
She shook her head. “I didn’t see anything else. I was told not to look.”
Good girl. I rubbed my jaw and studied her. “So, you agreed to testify?”
Her shoulders slumped and she kept her gaze trained on the table between us. “It’s not like I have a choice.”
“You do.”
Those green eyes flicked up. Damn. She really was beautiful. But that bruise under her eye was unacceptable. I pushed the ice pack toward her. She pursed her lips and gingerly placed it on her eye again.
“You do have a choice,” I said firmly. “If you don’t testify, witness protection services are still available, I hope someone told you that. But if you do choose to testify, then you’d be helping us put him away for a lot longer, maybe even life. Our case against him and his organization would be solid. And then you’d have nothing to worry about.”
She slumped back against her chair and frowned. “Well, good thing I love revenge. That asshole needs to rot in jail.”
A grin pulled at my lips. At least she wasn’t retreating into a shell, she wasn’t completely broken by all of this.
“I have questions,” she said.
“Okay.” I scratched my cheek. I expected that.
“You gonna give me a fake license?”
My forehead scrunched in confusion. “That’s a witness protection service, which you denied. You could still choose that route if you want though. It’d probably be easier,” I told her. God, just choose that route.
She just grumbled under her breath.
Something was off here. I leaned back in my chair and assessed her. “Why?”
“Huh?”
“Why are you asking about a license?”
She muttered something.
I gestured to my ear.
She dropped the ice pack from her face again. “I lost mine, okay?”
“Nah, keep that on.”
She sighed and picked it back up. “This is so bad.” She craned her neck to see her reflection in the mirror. “The kids are going to think I was in a fight and violence is never the answer. Oh my God,” she whined. “What am I even supposed to say? That I ran into a door or fell down the steps? Lying about an injury is a terrible thing to teach children.”
I snorted at her anxious rambling. “Violence is sometimes the answer.”
She shot me a glare with her good eye.
“But you’re right about the second part. What happened to your license?”
Her throat bobbed with a swallow. “It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time. Tell me.”
She then started her sordid little tale of losing her wallet to a homeless camp and getting most of her cards back. Jesus, was she careless or just plagued by bad luck?
“And you still haven’t applied for a new one?” I asked.
She shrunk back from the table. “I’m bad at admin, okay? I was gonna take care of it tomorrow.”
I wondered how many times she’d tell herself that. I rubbed my forehead. She was probably one of those girls who’d drive around without a license until she got a ticket.
I turned and shot a look at the two-way mirror. “We’ll take care of it for you.” My gaze shifted back to her and I had to bite my lip to hide my grimace. She was a mess.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped.
I cocked an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“I don’t know, like I’m helpless or something,” she muttered.
“I don’t think that,” I said with a casual shrug.
“Oh.” She scootched her chair a little.
“I think you’re irresponsible.”
Her eyes flamed. “And I think you’re an asshole. Ya know what? I don’t want you as my bodyguard.” She stood, making the chair fall to the ground behind her. “Give me someone else,” she yelled at the mirror. “Give me the woman who was just in here, or the guy that got me out of the apartment. I’ll take him.”
I almost laughed. I suspected she didn’t know that it was me, but she just confirmed it. Guess my undercover attire worked. I was the one kneeling in front of her, ordering her to breathe, helping her out, rubbing her back as she vomited. But she didn’t need to know that. It’d be easier if she didn’t like me– no danger of attachments that way.
“He’s busy. And as for Rodrigo, she was playing you. She’s about as nice as a fucking lioness going in for the kill.” I snorted a laugh.
“Don’t laugh at me,” she snapped.
“Don’t make it so easy, sweetheart.” Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I kind of liked getting under her skin. And if she hated me, that was a good thing– less danger of forming attachments.
Her eyes flashed. “Don’t call me that.”
Interesting. Sweetheart was a trigger for her. “Fine, what should I call you, Margaret?”
She dropped the ice pack on the table and used her right hand to pick the chair back up. A little alarm bell went off in my brain. Why wasn’t she using her left hand? She sat back down and rubbed her right temple like I was giving her a headache. “Maggie.” She sighed. “What do I call you?”
“Ben.”
“So how does this work? You… you live with me?” Her face scrunched up. “This is going to ruin all my plans.”
My mouth frowned. Don’t look so excited. “Just think of me as a silent roommate.”
She scoffed. “Who follows me around all day?”
“I’ll be shadowing you, yes.”
Her mouth dropped open slightly, like something just occurred to her. “You can’t go to work with me,” she said, her voice taking on a panicked octave.
“We’re already in contact with your school.” I looked over my shoulder to make sure they were on that.
Her eyes widened. “I’ll get fired.”
“No, they can’t fire you, that would be a major lawsuit for them and preppy schools are afraid of those.”
She pushed her hair back, trying to steady herself. “You’re gonna need a background check to work with kids.”
I cocked an eyebrow at her. “I work for the FBI,” I said dryly. “I think I'm good, sweetheart.”
“Don’t.” She glared.
I grinned. She was way too easy to mess with. “What plans am I ruining?”
She sucked in a deep breath. “If you must know, I’m…” she rolled her lips together and a little blush colored her cheeks. “I’m trying to check out the dating scene.”
I couldn’t help it, a corner of my mouth kicked up. “Sorry.”
Her eyebrows tugged together. “You don’t sound sorry at all.”
I barked out a laugh. I wasn’t. God, when was the last time I laughed out loud?
Those green eyes flamed. She slammed both her hands on the table, then immediately cried out a string of “Ow, ow, ow,” and cradled her left hand to her chest.
All humor was sucked out of the room, replaced by my anger and annoyance. I could throttle Coleson over this. “Are you hurt?”
She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. “I’m fine,” she forced out in a quiet voice.
I immediately stood and made my way around the table.
She flinched away from me, and I cursed myself. Wanting to help her overshadowed all my other instincts– like calmly approaching someone who was just attacked.
She eyed me warily. I kept my breathing steady and raised my hands in innocence. “I know it hurts, but can I take a look?” I slowly offered my hand.
A heartbeat passed. Then she held her wrist out to me. My chest loosened a little– definitely not all the way, but a little.
“Don’t move it,” she warned.
“I won’t, promise.” I gently pushed back the sleeve of my sweatshirt and carefully inspected her wrist. I ground my molars so hard they could crack. I was right, she should’ve been checked by a medic before being forced to sit here for hours, because her wrist was very obviously broken.
“What?” Gone were all traces of anger at me, instead, her green eyes were full of panic.
I raked a hand through my hair and stalked across the little space. I rapped a knuckle against the material and glared through it. “Told you she needed medical care.”