Chapter 3
You all are wrong about the "Weeks Before." *Makes super evil face* No one dies, I swear.
Happy Holidays! I'll be posting Friday!
-12 Weeks Before-
Sometimes it's hard to act like I don't care about him. Sometimes it's hard to act like I hate him when deep, deep down, I really care about him. Sometimes I find my the voices in my head screaming, "Don't insult the guy you like!" Then the other voice, "Do it! He's just playing with you!" One might call this the angel and devil voices. You know, the cliché ones they have in the cartoons, or whatever. But every now and then, they come around and overrule your thoughts, words, body, everything. Everything. No one admits it though. No one wants to. The angel, it infrequently wins. This is why there are so many selfish people in the world. I'm not calling myself a total selfless person, I have my needs, but I certainly don't take anyone or anything for granted. Then there's the devil. The devil, more often than it should, wins. People don't care of the consequences, as long as they get what they want, they don't care. Angels and devils… total opposites. At one point, I considered myself an angel. Before that raid. Before the raid that changed everything. And then there was Four. The devil. An angel, and a devil, together. Absurd. Absolutely absurd. Four, Tris, together. Now that's absurd. Me. Him. Together. That's just the kind of thing I can't imagine. He's nowhere near dating quality, anyway. Sure, he's attractive. Sure, he's nice sometimes. But not enough. Never enough. There was one time. One time we actually had a decent conversation without him constantly hitting on me. It was when we first met.
"Everyone! Please quiet down," Chief Max shouts. "This is Tris Prior, a new raid leader and detective. Shauna, I suspect you'll be happy since you'll have another female colleague around."
Chuckles arise from around the office.
"However, much to Shauna's displeasure, I presume, you and Tris will not be partnered. Since Four is the only one without a partner, so, Tris, you'll be assigned to him, and Four to you. I think you'll have fun with… your partnership." Max leaves.
Four waves his hand over to where his and an empty desk are.
"My name is Four," he says with a smile. "Your desk is directly across from mine. What do you say we get to know each other a little?"
I run my fingers across from the empty desk. The only thing that is on it is a computer. "My name is Tris Prior." I sit down in the spinning office chair. "I'm 22. I like music. Soccer. Skiing. Simple as that."
"My name is Four. I'm 24. I like—"
"Four?"
"Simple as that. I like music too. Soccer. Snowboarding."
"Fantastic. So, partner, do you mind if I ask why your name is a number?"
"Knocked out four people in four seconds." He shrugs.
"Alright then, mystery man." I shake my head and mumble, "This oughta be fun."
I remember that day very distinctly, now that I think about it. I probably couldn't recall it at the bar last week because I was drinking. Four. Mystery man. He was very kind. That first day I thought I had a crush on him, but then as the weeks gradually went by, I realized it was just a really great first impression. I realized he is sometimes nice, but usually cocky, cute, and annoying, all at once. Like when we insult each other. He's very clever, but so am I, which almost makes us equals. We are equals. We are equally strong, clever, smart… maybe not the same size… But that doesn't count.
As much as I hate admitting it, we have a few things in common. Actually, more than a few. We listen to almost the same exact music, we like snowboarding and skiing, soccer, and we like taking down unjust people. If my future boyfriend doesn't like blueberry muffins, it's not going to work. Definitely a deal-breaker.
Hm.
Doesn't Four like muffins?
-November 4th (still 12 weeks before)- (Remember this date, it'll be important later on, okay? Okay.)
I continue clicking my pen in and out as Four and I sit next to each other, trying to find out where Ashley Madison is being held captive. We have all the right clues, but we can't find the warehouse or place she's being held.
"Tris, if you keep doing that, I'm going to lose my mind," he says quietly, but deadly.
"Can't lose something you never had," I mumble, still in a trance.
I don't realize he's speaking until he says, "Tris? You there?"
I sit up. "Huh? Yeah."
"It's amazing how you can still have a good comeback even while you're in a trance." He chuckles.
"Yeah, I guess so."
I look at the clues again. "Wolf" and "Buck."
They're both animals… in the forest… They both… live north. They both live in Ohio and Michigan.
"Wolverines…," I mumble. "Buckeyes… Michigan Wolverines, Ohio State Buckeyes. Michigan and Ohio. The corner of Michigan Avenue and Ohio Street! Four, she's on that corner! There's a warehouse there!" I shout and stand up.
"Tris! You're a genius." He stands up and kisses the top of my head, then runs out to gather the raid group.
What the hell? Why would… He was happy I figured it out. Yeah.
This is the first time we'll be going on a raid together since he disobeyed my orders.
We get in the van and suit up, guns loaded and vests on.
"This time," I say quietly to Four, "you will obey my orders and only my orders. Am I clear?"
He nods. "Crystal."
"Good."
Once we arrive at Michigan and Ohio, Will parks behind the warehouse. We all quietly step onto the pavement, me leading the pack.
I put up three fingers. Two… One. And this time, I'm not interrupted, thankfully.
"CPD, put your hands in the air!"
Then, madness spreads like wildfire in a California forest.
A man with a burly body is all I see, while the rest go to Ashley. The perp, Benjamin Burkley, who is 28 years of age, is quickly taken down to the floor by me, but he punches me in in the jaw, which will definitely leave a bruise. I elbow him in the ribcage, causing him to huff out a big breath. I see him grab something at his waist. A gun. Before I get the chance to move, he fires right in front of my vest. I know he knows it won't kill me, but it'll certainly leave a big bruise. Not enough to cause internal damage though.
I know Four is freaking out. He sprints over here and punches the guy in the face, knocking him from underneath me, and handcuffs him.
"Uriah!" Four calls. "Get over here and take this bastard to a car."
He then turns to me. "Are you okay? Do you need an ambulance?" Four asks me hurriedly.
I shake my head and begin to get up, wincing.
"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can or will be used against you in the court of law," Uri mirandizes him and continues on his way.
"You're sure?" Four asks. "Do you need me to carry you? I can, you know."
"Four," I say, "I'm fine."
Four leads me outside to the other side of the building where there is nobody else.
"Show me," he says.
"What?"
"You know what."
"No," I say.
"Tris. I'm not letting you leave until you let me see it. I'll tell you whether or not I'm sending you to a hospital."
I sigh, taking off my vest and brown jacket, then lift my soft baby blue shirt up to my abs—which I actually have. Yes, girls can have them too.
The bruise is a purple/reddish color. Four brushes three fingers over it, eyebrows creased.
"I don't think you need to go to the hospital, but I do think you need to go home and ice it."
"No," I say immediately as I pull my shirt down. "We've got to interrogate the perp."
"Tris, that's not a good idea. Honestly."
"Four, I don't give a fuck. Honestly." I pull my jacket on and carry my vest, making my way back to the van.
He shakes his head. "You confuse me."
"How so?"
"You… just do, alright?"
I eyeball him suspiciously. "Okay."
As we ride back to the station, everyone is silent.
When we arrive inside, everybody starts clapping, mainly directed toward me. Normally I'd take a dramatic bow, but I can't, considering my injured side. So I just wave and go into the interrogation room, where Four and I get the man's statement.
Four tells me he'll meet me there in a minute and that I can go ahead and go in.
I get out my notepad and pen then sit down in one of the two seats across from him.
"State your name."
"Benjamin Bryce Burkley."
"How do you plead?"
"Not guilty."
"Did you or did you not kidnap Ashley Madison?"
"I do not have to answer any questions until my attorney arrives," he states.
"Good job. You know your rights."
Four comes in with a bag of ice, setting it in front of me.
"No," I immediately say. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not." He sets the bag on the table in front of me. "Use it."
"No."
"Why are you so stubborn?" Four sighs.
"Because I know when to do something someone tells me and when not to. And now I know I don't need that bag."
"Just use the fucking ice for Christ's sake!" he shouts.
I roll my eyes and grab the bag. I act like I am putting it on, then I unzip it and dump it down his shirt. He almost screams.
"What the hell, Tris?" he shouts.
"I told you I didn't need it, so gave it back to you." I shrug.
Meanwhile, Benjamin seems to be having a good time by laughing at my reactions from Four.
Four leaves to go get a new shirt and dry off, presumably.
"Something funny?" I ask him with a straight face.
"Are you two dating?"
"In-office relationships are restricted," I say. I pause. "Not that I'd go out with him anyway."
He huffs. "Well, you are a terrible liar."
"Check the rulebook. My friends have to secretly date because it's not allowed."
"The second part. You'd totally go out with him. I know how girls work. I'm a master at love."
"Says the man who tied a woman to a chair and tried to force her to love him," I say with a sweet, fake smile.
"Shut up. You don't know what she did," he growls.
"I suppose we'll find out in a minute, won't we?"
Four comes back inside with Burkley's attorney and his loyal, old, orange sweatshirt on.
"Have you said anything?" the attorney asks his client.
Benjamin shakes his head. "No."
"Good, good. Now let's get down to business."
"That guy was fuckin' nutballs, man," Four says as we walk out after a long day, "thinking he had a right to do that shit. You can't just force your feelings upon someone because they don't love you. You don't… You just can't do that. You can't kidnap someone and then make them fall in love with you."
"Four," I deadpan, "haven't you ever seen Beauty and the Beast?" I laugh.
He raises an eyebrow. "What's that?"
I pause and take the information in. Then I scoff. "What do mean 'what's that'? Everybody's seen that movie!" I exclaim.
"Not me." He shrugs.
"Okay. You're coming over to watch it later. My address is 486 Elm Street, Apartment 4. Be there at six, alright?"
One is his eyebrows rise. "What if I have plans tonight?"
"What—with the friends you don't have?" I chuckle.
"Good point. I'll be there," he says. "I can't believe I'm watching a movie with a cliché love story in it with a girl." He laughs. "What has my life come to?"
"Your life has come to you finally realizing you love me, so that's why you're coming over. That's so why."
"Um, no. I just get bored sometimes. All I do is watch TV and read usually."
"You know how to read?" I ask incredulously.
"Yes, actually. I'll have you know that when I was in high school, I was in Power of the Pen."
"What the hell is Power of the Pen?" I ask.
"It's this writing competition where you travel and go against other schools and judges pick the kid who wrote the best piece," he says.
"Really?" I ask. "Hm. That's actually kind of cool," I admit. "I thought your IQ was so low it dropped below the scale, but I guess not."
"You're so mean sometimes." He sticks out his lower lip, like a child pleading or pouting because they want something.
"I'll try being nicer if you try being smarter."
"Geez, Tris, who lit the fuse in your tampon?" he asks with a smirk.
"The guy who shot me today." I chuckle.
"I see your point, but your still full of shit." He smiles. "I'm only joking though. That can get a little exhausting, to be honest."
We are about to part ways since our houses are in two different directions.
"You don't say?" I tell him sarcastically.
"Hey, just make sure you ice it, alright?" he asks with concern which is very, very, rare. Which seems to actually be coming up more and more these days, now that I mention it.
"Alright, alright, I will."
"Promise?"
"Why are you so worried, Four?—God."
"Because you have to be okay. I mean, you figure out all of the cases, but we both get credit for it. We're partners." He smugly smiles.
"Wow. So that's the reason we're friends. You only love me for my brain!" I shout dramatically.
He laughs. "Guys rarely love a girl for her strength and intelligence, so you should be honored."
"I guess so," I say, smiling. "I'll see you in a little bit." I turn around and start walking in the direction of my house.
Then I realize: I called him my friend. I mentally facepalm. Why the hell would I call him my friend? We're partners. Yeah. Partners. Four doesn't make friends, nor does he want any.
Yet, when I mentioned us being friends, he didn't exactly reject it. Plus, partners don't hang out outside of work… so I guess we really are friends. And we're watching a movie at my house.
Oh no. What if I gave him the wrong idea? What if he thinks I like him? What if he tries to make a move since he thinks I like him? What if, what if, what if…