She was not afraid. She was not afraid. She was not afraid.
She just kept telling herself that as she followed Pratt into the abandoned lot. She had worked too damn long to catch this son of a bitch to let fear get in the way. Part of her knew that she was going to die. Part of her knew that something was going to go wrong. That someone was going to attack her. All of her nerves were on high alert, the hair on the back of her neck stood up.
A hand closed around her mouth and she knew that that was it. Everything slid into place, everything put itself together. He had lured her with that girl. And she had fallen for it.
"So it's been you this whole time, huh Aiden?" Pratt sneered as he dragged her to the car. "Following me and tracking me and harassing me?"
"I was trying to catch you, Pratt." She growled.
He threw her into the car and pain ran through her head when it hit the door. Blow after blow. She was fighting for her life and somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she would lose. Aiden thought it would be ironic, killed by the thing she was trying to catch. She had devoted months to tracking Pratt. She had watched. Waited. Learned his schedule.
She let it consume her entire being. Aiden let her obsession fuel her research. And she knew the second his hands were on her that she was done for. She was willing to die to get him. She was willing to lose her life to get justice for the women she lost her job for.
A knee to her ribs. She felt the air get knocked out of her and she heard, and felt them crack. A cry escaped from her mouth.
And then the perfect way to catch him came to her. She remembered that case she had worked on with Mac. The bite mark.
The bite mark.
There it was. DJ Pratt's arm. Within reach. She curled herself up and clamped down on his arm as hard as she could. She tasted blood. A blow to her head. She used the momentum to turn her body over. Then she bit down on the car armrest. Harder than she bit Pratt. She would leave evidence linking her to Pratt. With her death, she would catch him.
After she bit down on the car, she lost her fight. She felt her vision go in and out. Aiden learned enough from Hawks to know that her ribs must've punctured something important. The constant hits from Pratt had taken their toll.
"How does it feel," He whispered, his breath hot against her ear as he pressed down on her rib cage. "To know they're never going to catch me? With you gone, they will never catch me."
"Fuck you," She gasped out. "They will catch you."
"Like hell they will."
And with one final blow, Aiden was dead.
The flames burned hot and fast, and her body blackened and curled. The bite mark stayed under layers of ash and burned plastic. Her life was gone but her beauty remained. Her story remained to be told. It remained to be written, tested, and proved by her team.
She had won.