Chapter 16 #2
Isabel stumbled free, gasping, her heart hammering so loud she could barely hear.
Victoria was already there, her gun still raised, scanning for movement before holstering it and reaching for Isabel. “You okay?”
Isabel nodded, though her voice came out hoarse. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
Victoria’s hand lingered on her arm just a beat longer than necessary before she pulled back, all business again. “Secure the perimeter,” she ordered into her comm. “All units report.”
Static. Then, “We’ve got her. Repeat, Chloe Harper is secure!”
The words hit Isabel like oxygen.
She turned toward the warehouse just in time to see a SWAT officer leading a girl into the open air.
Chloe Harper—sixteen, with long chestnut hair half undone from a braid—looked disoriented but alive.
Her wide green eyes darted across the scene, taking in the chaos, the flashing lights, the armed officers.
She was trembling, but there was a defiant spark in her gaze that said she’d fought to survive.
A collective exhale rippled through the team.
Then came another voice over the comms. “We’ve got Darcy Langley in custody. She was trying to run.”
Isabel looked toward Victoria. The captain’s expression didn’t change, but Isabel saw it—the smallest flicker of relief, of sorrow, of something that went deeper than triumph.
“It’s over,” Isabel said quietly.
Victoria met her eyes, her voice low and certain. “Not yet. But it will be.”
The interrogation room was quiet except for the steady hum of the overhead light.
Darcy sat at the metal table, her wrists cuffed and her shoulders slumped forward. Gone was the confident lieutenant with her easy grin and sharp command. She looked…small now. Shaken. Her hair was a mess, her face blotchy from crying.
Across from her, Victoria stood with her arms crossed, her posture immaculate as ever. Isabel stood just behind her, notebook in hand, though she hadn’t written a single thing down.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Finally, Victoria broke the silence. “Why, Lieutenant?” Her voice was low and steady but laced with anger that simmered just beneath the surface. “Why betray your badge? Your team?”
Darcy flinched but didn’t look up. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” Victoria said sharply.
Darcy’s breath shuddered out. “After my wife left me, I…I started gambling. Just a few bets at first. Then I got hooked. Poker, sports, cards—it didn’t matter. I kept losing. And when I couldn’t pay, they found me.”
“The Iron Fang Syndicate,” Isabel said quietly.
Darcy nodded, tears spilling over now. “They told me I could work off my debt. Just small favors at first—information, access, nothing that seemed like it would matter. Then it got worse. They owned me before I even realized it.”
Victoria’s expression hardened. “You had choices. You could’ve come to me. To Internal Affairs.”
“I was ashamed!” Darcy’s voice cracked. “I thought I could fix it myself. Then they threatened my family—my sister, her kids. I couldn’t let them get hurt because of me.
” She looked up then, desperate and pleading.
“Captain, please. I’ll give you everything.
Names, accounts, meeting spots—whatever you want. Just…talk to the DA. Get me a deal.”
Victoria’s jaw tightened. “That’s not up to me.”
“Please,” Darcy whispered. “Cass Bellamy runs everything. She’s ruthless. But her second, Evelyn Cross—she’s the one you really need to watch. Military, tactical, completely loyal to Cass. They’re planning something big. I can help you stop it.”
Victoria’s eyes flicked briefly toward Isabel, then back to Darcy. “You’ll have your chance to cooperate. But whether or not that earns you leniency—that’s for the DA to decide.”
Darcy sagged, defeated. The tears didn’t stop.
Victoria gave a curt nod to the two officers outside the door. “Take her to holding.”
When the door shut, silence settled over the room again.
Isabel watched Victoria for a long moment as she straightened the files on the table, every movement controlled and methodical. She recognized that posture—the one Victoria wore when she was holding everything in.
“She’s a mess,” Isabel said softly.
“She’s a criminal,” Victoria replied, her tone clipped. “And she almost got you killed.”
“I know,” Isabel said. “But she’s also human. You saw her in there—she’s drowning.”
Victoria turned to face her, the faintest trace of exhaustion in her eyes. “Sympathy is dangerous in this job.”
“Yeah,” Isabel said bitterly. “I’ve noticed.”
Victoria didn’t respond, just brushed past her and out into the hallway. Isabel followed, the weight between them heavier than the air itself.
They walked in silence all the way to Victoria’s office. Inside, the blinds were drawn, the last light of dusk fading through the slats. Victoria closed the door behind them and leaned against her desk, her arms folded tight.
“You did good work today,” she said finally.
Isabel let out a humorless laugh. “You mean besides getting myself taken hostage?”
Victoria’s lips twitched. “You kept your head. That’s what matters.”
There was a pause. The kind that felt like it stretched too long. Isabel stepped closer, searching her face. “So, what now? We just… pretend this didn’t happen? Everything that’s been going on between us?”
Victoria’s gaze dropped to the floor. “It was a mistake.”
The words hit harder than Isabel expected. “A mistake,” she repeated, voice barely above a whisper. “That’s what you call it?”
“Our fling can’t continue,” Victoria said, voice firm. Final. “I’m your commanding officer. It compromises the department. It compromises you.”
Isabel shook her head. “A fling. Wow. Don’t do that. Don’t hide behind the badge. You’re not ending this because it’s wrong—you’re ending it because it scares you.”
“Torres—”
“No,” Isabel cut in, her eyes bright with tears. “You run from anything that makes you feel. You think if you just stay cold enough, disciplined enough, you’ll never get hurt again.”
Victoria’s silence said more than words could.
Isabel stared at her for a long moment, her chest rising and falling, trying to hold herself together. Then she exhaled sharply and turned for the door. “You know what? Forget it. You made yourself clear.”
She walked out before the tears could fall, before the sound of her breaking heart could fill the room.