Hello.

I'm heartbroken right now. I can't put my feelings into words because it's all a bit irrational. The logic part of my brain understands and respects Sophia's decision (although I'm still waiting for the official word). I bet this was a very difficult decision for her to make, one she probably lost a lot of sleep over. But the irrational and more human part of my brain is angry, dejected, and inconsolable. I fell deeply in love with this show, and I feel like it just broke up with me. I'm in mourning for all the storylines that will never be.

-Dee

Erin's POV

The night breeze makes the air feel colder than it is and with my dress still partially damp, I'm shivering.

I came outside to try to clear my head, but it's not happening. My eyes close at their own volition and I feel him, all of him. I can taste Jay's lips on mine. I can feel his breath on my neck and his fingers grazing down my skin. It's all incredibly overwhelming to me, so I linger outside yearning for a release that's not going to come. I have to focus on something else, anything else, and I don't need to wait long for a distraction because the door to the alley suddenly screeches open.

"Trying to catch pneumonia?" I hear a voice ask. I look back and it's my undercover lookout, Seth, coming to check on me. When I don't speak, he asks, "Hey, you okay?"

"I'm fine," I tell him dismissively. "Just needed to get some air."

"Did that guy rough you up before you put him down?"

"No," I tell him.

Seth cocks a brow, as if he doesn't believe me. After a beat he says, "He looked like a real jackass."

I chuckle humorlessly. "Yeah."

Seth is nice enough, polite in a way that will impress your mom, but has no real wit or anything very interesting to say. He is a solid FBI Agent, although he probably hits the bottle a little too often. And as if to prove my point, he pulls out a stainless-steel hip flask and offers me a swig. I usually turn him down, but today I take a long pull and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. The liquid leaves a velvety burn on my throat.

Seth watches me, wearing a cocky grin as if he's finally seeing a chink in my armor. "Erin Lindsay is hitting the sauce."

I roll my eyes. I suppose I've kept myself guarded and Seth is thoroughly enjoying seeing a more human side of me. He continues to look me at me searchingly, but decides that I'm the best judge of how I'm feeling. "Before I forget," he says. "Jen wants to meet tomorrow," He tells me, taking a swig off the flask.

"Did she say why?"

"No, but I hear they are pulling the plug on this case."

"What? Why?" I ask stunned.

"If I were a guessing man I would say It's because we haven't found who's behind the phony visas."

"These things take time. I finally got their trust. We can't just pull out."

"It's not my call, Erin."

I shake my head, irritated that in spite of all the progress we've made the last couple of months, it still isn't enough. "I better get inside before anyone sees us," I say curtly and march back to the penthouse bash.

x

The next morning, I take the train to the East Side. Even though I only took a swig off Seth's flask, I woke up with the biggest pseudo-hangover it seems. My head hurts, every inch of my body aches, and the constant jostling on the train is making me nauseous. Perhaps I did catch pneumonia, standing in the cold in wet clothes. It also doesn't help my case that I slept a measly two hours before it was time to get up.

We meet in a warehouse in an abandoned shipyard by the East River. I'm apparently the last one to arrive and all eyes turn to me when I pull the door open. I take a seat around the table and try not to call more attention on myself.

"Now that we're all here, we can begin," Jen says curtly.

She outlines our operation and goes over the bits of information we've been able to obtain. She pulls out a new suspect list, emphasizing which ones we should keep and an eye on. Then I'm debriefed, followed by Seth and the two other operatives working in parallel with us. The meeting ends and to my surprise (and Seth's) there is no mention of the case being pulled. Although, there was an impatient urgency in her voice.

I'm about to leave when Jen pulls me aside. Her lips are pursed and a frown line creases her brow. "I was going over the recordings from last night and it seems yours cut off," she says.

"Oh," I feign surprise. "Maybe the chip broke or something. I will make sure to change it out before tonight."

"Everything okay?" She asks lightly. "You know, these cases can be very—"

"I'm fine," I cut her off. "It was just a long night," I say, over my shoulder as I walk out.

I sneak back into King's penthouse and one of his men catch me tiptoeing inside. This usually isn't a be a big deal because I'm not one of his girls. I just work for him. During our initial surveillance of King's operation, we learned that he outsourced his business when the demand for girls were high. So we busted a known pimp, coerced him to work with us and in no time we infiltrated into King's operation as his associates. King has no idea he is in business with the Feds.

"Where you coming from?" he asks, leaning into my space so his face almost touches mine. I can smell alcohol in his breath.

"Just getting some blow," I tell him, not really making eye contact. Out of my periphery I watch his fists curl into tight balls. "What? You want some?" I offer in an attempt to diffuse any tension.

He scoffs before grabbing my arm and forcefully shoving me against the wall. He raises his hand and slaps me full across the left side of my face. It catches me off guard. My jaw drops as a new kind of anger radiates through my body. I keep my fists firmly planted at my sides to control the urge to punch his arrogant face.

"You whores think you can come and go as you please. Don't be sneaking outta here for some blow," he snaps.

"I needed a quick fix," I explain and slip out of his reach as quick as I can. I can't make a scene. Gotta keep my head down. I retreat to my room. I try to sleep but can't. My body aches and as the day wears on, I get more and more uncomfortable. I don't' remember ever feeling like this. I shake it off and try to put a lid on it. I need to get my head on straight because in a few hours it starts all over again. Maybe tonight we finally catch a break.

x

I feel utter disgust every time a man ogles at me, like I'm a piece of meat. Granted, I'm wearing a very revealing shirt with a handkerchief for a skirt, but that doesn't excuse their godawful behavior. I had forgotten what it felt like to feel this worthless and empty. I know this is just a cover, I know my worth. But when you're in this deep, the lines blur and you forget what's real and what's fake.

I shake off these feelings as I'm guided with the other girls to the party. We stand there, like merchandise, as sad excuses for men bargain our worth. A particularly heavyset man approaches me and starts up meaningless conversation. I feign interest and offer up silly anecdotes that puts forth a lighthearted version of myself, as if I'm happy to be in this line of business. But our conversation is cut short when someone intrudes on our conversation.

My eyes look up and land on Jay. A part of me feels immersed with anger that he didn't listen when I asked him to back off, and another part – the more vulnerable part – feels relief. I can see Jay observing the array of mixed emotions rippling across my face. Worry sets in his brow. But he quickly masks it with a cocky grin that goes well with the suit he is wearing.

Out of my periphery I see Seth sizing Jay up and down. His brow furrows and his nostrils flares; he is seething with disgust for the guy, who he thinks did wrong by me last night. Seth's glaring eyes drive darts through Jay. I hope for the sake of our undercover operation he keeps his distance.

"Excuse me," Jay interrupts. "I think I owe you this," he says and hands me a drink. The previous man leaves without protest, probably thinking he is no competition for a guy like Jay.

Jay nods his head and unassumingly sets a stack of money on the table, "I want her," he says to the cashier.

I see Seth's jaw clench and a muscle twitch under his cheekbone. He walks right up to Jay and hisses, "Pick someone else."

Jay frowns and shoves Seth out of the way. "Nah, I want her."

As if to purposely push Seth's buttons, Jay snakes an arm over my shoulder and winks at him.

I can see the fury in Seth's eyes, read his irritation in the way that damn muscle keeps twitching in his jaw. "Pick. Someone. Else. Punk," he demands.

Jay shoves him out of the way, but Seth sneaks up behind him and puts him in a choke hold. Rookie move. Jay very casually spins in a half turn and slams Seth on the floor. Seth is stunned and winded. Jay kneels on his chest, clamping his wrists together with one hand. Seth tries to twist out of Jay's hold, but it's a futile.

"Hey, let's play nice," I intervene, putting the drink on my hand down. I pull Jay away from Seth, and glare at both of them. "He's a good paying customer," I say.

Jay offers Seth a hand, but he doesn't take it. He slowly gets up to his feet, dusting himself down as he looks Jay and I up and down.

"I'll be just fine." I assure Seth through clenched teeth. Then I turn to Jay and add, "Don't mind him. I will show you a good time." I loop my arm around Jay's and pull him towards the room.

Once the door closes behind us, Jay mouths silently. "Are they listening?"

"No," I shake my head and slump on the bed, a headache is slowly setting in my temples. "You mic'ed?"

"No," he shakes his head.

After a beat I ask him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He releases a rush of air from his lungs and says, "I wanted to see you."

At least he is being honest and isn't dancing around the subject. "Okay, you see me," I say stripping any emotion from my voice. I can't lose focus. "You can go now."

Instead of leaving, Jay takes a seat next to me and says, "Look, I-I was worried about you." He gently puts a hand on my arm and I unintentionally I flinch. He frowns and instinctively pulls my sleeve up to find bruising from this morning's altercation. The redness was getting lighter and I didn't think it would bruise.

"What the f—"

"It's part of the job," I remind him.

"No," he says further inspecting my arm, "It's not!"

I pull on his shirt until the skin on his left shoulder is exposed and the gunshot scar is visible. "This was not part of the job?"

"That's different," he says, pulling at his shirt back.

"How's it different?" I glare at him. He doesn't have an explanation. "Look, if my people find out you're sniffing around, it won't end well for you."

"I will take my chances," he says smugly.

"The Feds can really screw you over," I tell him.

"Are they screwing you over?" He asks. His eyes bore into me, searching for something I'm not sure I'm willing to share with him.

"No," I shake my head. "They are not screwing me over. You, on the other hand, will be if you don't back off."

"Erin, we are not backing down. This sex trafficking operation spans not only New York, but Chicago and California. King could be shipping girls all over the country."

I stand up and begin to pace. I've been trying not focus my attention on the sex trafficking issue because I didn't want to lose focus on the bigger picture. My job here is to find the men forging phony visas to terrorists. But this issue speaks louder to me. I can't ignore it.

"I need to speak to the higher ups," I tell him. "Maybe we can kill one two birds with one stone."

He nods.

After a beat of silence, we hear someone fidgeting with the door. I look panicked at Jay and his face probably reflects my own. He quickly shrugs off his suit jacket and pulls his shirt off. He pushes me on the bed, and there a moment when we look at each other. His eyes are asking me permission for what he is about to do. I nod, and his lips crush against mine. It's raw and inelegant. His kiss isn't sweet, or tender. It is rough, passionate, relieved. Needy. It is kiss of desperation. I slide my arms up around his neck and pull him closer, kissing him back just as thoroughly, just as desperately.

I lose myself in his kiss and I don't hear the door opening. I do notice when Jay's lips abruptly part from mine. My head is in a daze and it takes me a few seconds to see what is going on. Seth is throwing punches, but missing Jay by inches. Jay looks irritated now and grabs Seth by his shirt, pulls him forward, and knees him right in the gut. Seth falls to the floor, holding his stomach.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" Jay says.

Seth stands up, determined not to make the same mistake, and throws a right, then a left. Jay throws a punch and misses. Seth counters with a left which Jay blocks with ease. Jay hits him low again with a right to the gut, then follows with an uppercut to the jaw that floors Seth.

"Are you done?" Jay asks.

Jay looks at me for a reaction, but I have nothing. Defeated, I walk towards Seth who is breathing heavily on the floor, with blood coming out of his nose and say, "Agent Seth Larson, meet detective Jay Halstead."

Thank you for reading. I think another chapter will wrap this one up. Let me know what you think, even if it's just to vent on recent events. I will reply. Let's talk.