Chapter 16 #2
“I think we’ve got enough for today,” Agent Samuels croaks, his head hung and eyes averted.
It wasn’t my goal to lecture him, but I make no apologies for how I chose to get my point across.
His chair grates against the floor as he pushes back from the table, the high-pitched screech making me wince.
It takes a lot less these days to catapult my aggravation to stratospheric heights, and I’d wager the baby inside of me is to blame for my new mood disorder.
With today’s notes in hand, Agent Samuels excuses himself, his parting smile respectful but timid.
I follow shortly after, my search for Raiden concluding as soon as I turn the corner at the end of the hallway.
He’s speaking with Chief O’Connor, their heads bent together as they discuss something quietly.
I slow my steps, not wanting to intrude when it’s obvious they’re trying to keep their conversation private.
As if he’s aware of my presence, Raiden’s head tilts to the side, our gazes clashing instantly.
It’s like the day of my rescue all over again, when our eyes met across the compound's entrance, two magnets being drawn to one another. He motions me over, but Chief O’Connor excuses himself before I reach them.
Much like mine, Raiden’s exhaustion is hard to miss.
Dark circles rim his eyes, a blatant sign of how little sleep he’s gotten these past few weeks.
Our midnight drives are taking a toll on each of us, but him especially.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. The closer I get to him, the more I’m convinced it’s something other than fatigue that has his face looking so somber.
“Come with me,” he instructs, taking my hand and leading me towards his office.
We pass a few of the officers I’ve gotten to know over my many trips to the precinct, so I smile and wave, Raiden’s hurried gait not allowing me to stop and chat.
He kicks the door closed behind us, his hands going to the back of his head as he stares at the ceiling and starts to pace.
The room is barely big enough to turn around in, so I block his path and force him out of the mental spiral he’s quickly falling into.
He sighs, propping himself on the edge of his desk so our faces are level with one another.
“Shit,” Raiden swears, his white-knuckled grip causing the cheap laminate to creak under the pressure.
“Just say it,” I snap a bit too harshly, my patience wearing thin after the morning I’ve had. “Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than you’re making it out to be.” His brown eyes flicker up, a hint of a smile quirking his mouth at my curt response.
“Ada Stillwater is being released to a psychiatric facility.” Of all the twisted theories my mind was busy concocting, his actual answer couldn’t have shocked me more.
“Seriously?” I deadpan. “That was hyperbole, not a challenge.” I slump against the wall, a frigid numbness creeping through my extremities. “How’s that even possible?”
“A damn good lawyer, that’s how,” he snarks, the clenching of his jaw a visible tell of how pissed he is.
“Ada’s claiming she only acted under duress, and any compliance she’s shown with Veritas’ ideology was done out of fear for her life.
What pushed the judge to agree is her admission to needing extensive mental treatment, and her lawyer argued that being locked inside of a jail cell would only add to the trauma she’s endured. ”
“Her trauma?” I question indignantly, though I’m not expecting an answer.
The nerve of that woman.
I press my lips together in a poor attempt to keep my laughter at bay.
It’s futile, and when it finally bursts free, Raiden stares at me like I’ve grown a second head.
His bewilderment only intensifies the fit I’m having, and before I know it, tears are streaming down my cheeks from how hard I’m laughing.
I’m not sure when it happens, but the hilarity of the situation fades, and a body-wracking sob soon accompanies the wetness flooding my face.
Raiden instantly tugs me forward and hugs me to his chest, his tight hold the only reason I haven’t crumbled to the ground.
“I’m not going to tell you it’s okay, because it’s not.
Nothing about this is fair to you or the other victims. It’s just an unfortunate loophole in our faulty justice system, and they jumped at the opportunity to use it to their advantage.
For now, we play their game and hope like hell her psych eval says otherwise. ”
I sniffle, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment as I reluctantly peel my face from Raiden’s tear-soaked dress shirt.
He flashes me a knowing smile and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, looking unperturbed by the damp spot my crying has caused.
Biting at the tattered skin around my thumbnail, I take up where Raiden left off and begin pacing his nonexistent office space, racking my brain for a single thought I can put words to.
“So that’s it? She just weasels her way out of facing the consequences?
” The venom in my voice is unmistakable; how dare that vile woman skirt the fallout she’s deserving of.
Ada had a million chances to confide in me, and while I know she’s a victim of Veritas in her own right, I’m confident she doesn’t see it that way.
It’s a blatant slap in the face that she’s aligning herself with those of us who’ve actually suffered, pretending she’s not just as complicit in the abuse we faced.
“Jail cell or padded room, she won’t be walking the streets anytime soon,” Raiden promises, his voice pitched low with vehemence.
I nod, his words registering, but they fail to erase my worry completely.
My eyes snap to his when he tugs my abused thumb from my mouth, his brows dipping with concern as he scrutinizes the raw skin I’ve been gnawing at.
It’s a habit I’ve had since I was a child, though Raiden seems personally offended by the way I choose to cope with my anxiety.
I quickly extricate my hand from his, glancing at the clock to check the time.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do, but haven’t had the chance.
You up for some fun?” he questions, a teasing lilt to his voice as he gathers the papers strewn across his desk and places them in a drawer for safekeeping.
“I’m not sure I grasp the meaning of that word anymore,” I laugh sardonically, my response not nearly as amusing to Raiden as it is to me.
“Exactly why we need to do this,” he grumbles.
I refrain from asking any questions, noting the look of determination he’s sporting as he goes about locking up his office.
His steps are quick as he leads us through the back door of the precinct, an air of eagerness motivating his movements.
A country station plays quietly in the background during our drive to wherever Raiden is so intent on taking me, the soft music somewhat soothing my ire.
I’ve come to enjoy these moments of peace spent in the company of the guys, without having to worry if it means something more.
Tobias greatly enjoyed how uncomfortable his silence would make me, and he made sure to use that knowledge to his benefit.
We come to a stop in front of an old brick building, my curiosity piqued as I read the sign above the door.
Ragers
I glance at Raiden, waiting for an explanation, but he just grins and pops his door open.
A second later, he’s standing beside me, extending his hand to help me out.
My eyes scan the foyer as we make our way inside, searching for any clue as to what this place entails.
There’s no rhyme or reason when it comes to their decor.
Graffiti covers the walls, with dainty prints of fine china hanging amongst the gritty backdrop.
The contrast between the two is a bit jarring, but the chaotic vibe makes me smile.
“Where are we?” I whisper, turning my attention to Raiden as we wait for the employee manning the front desk to finish helping the group ahead of us.
“It’s a rage room,” he answers, his simplistic response doing nothing to clue me in. I quirk an eyebrow, patiently waiting for more information as he fights back a smile. Just as he opens his mouth, the line moves and we’re greeted by the overzealous worker as she spouts off questions to Raiden.
“Paint or no paint?” He turns to me, but I have no context for what he’s asking.
“Uh…no paint?” Confusion swamps me as he relays my answer, but then we’re asked to sign a waiver, and my skin prickles with apprehension.
Raiden scribbles his name without a second thought, watching as I bite my lip in contemplation.
Trusting he wouldn’t put me in harm’s way, I push my doubts aside and quickly follow suit.
“You guys can head to room twelve. Protective suits are hanging on the wall, along with eyewear. Have fun raging!” Her focus shifts to the next customer, politely dismissing us as Raiden steers me through a secondary door and down a long hallway.
We make it to the room she indicated, my eyes flaring wide as I take it all in.
Shards of porcelain and glass are scattered across the floor, a slew of box TV’s situated throughout the space, some of them intact while others are falling apart.
Mixed among them are smaller appliances, such as microwaves and toaster ovens.
“So,” Raiden starts, my attention drawn to him as he leans against the wall, his dark brown eyes full of excitement. “Want to beat the ever-loving shit out of this stuff with me?”
“I’m so confused right now,” I mumble, my shoulders sagging as Raiden approaches me.