Betrayal of Trust (3/?)

Author's note: Well, thanks again for all the great reviews guys, that really means a lot to me! I hope Cruz is true to character in this story. I've only seen season four up to "The Witness" so I'm not sure I got her down well. Please let me know. This said, enjoy chapter three! ;)

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Chapter three – No Rules. No Regrets.

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Cruz had just reached the top of the stairs when she heard footsteps approaching. She quickly looked around, her gun at the ready, and spotted a man running in her direction.

"Police!" she warned "Hands where I can see them!"

Diaz, a bewildered look on his face, stopped in his tracks, unsure about what to do.

"Get your damn hands in the air! NOW!" she ordered again, taking a few steps forward. "Well, who do we have here? Didn't your mom ever teach you not to make the same mistake twice? Huh?"

She roughly grabbed him and pushed him up against the wall. "Now that's unfortunate..." she laughed as she pulled his hands behind his back and took her handcuffs, applying them to the man's wrists.

"You remember me, Diaz?" she taunted as he struggled to get free from her grasp. "I'm sure you do. I'm the one who locked you up... And now you're gonna wish your sorry ass had never crossed my path!" she added, knocking his legs out from under him.

"Ow!" Diaz cried out in pain as went to the ground face first.

"My sister's dead, you bastard! Lettie's dead, and someone's got to pay for it!" she whispered through clenched teeth as she knelt down beside him. "I tried to help her, but she wouldn't listen... and it's all your fault, you hear me? She couldn't stay clean because you kept forcing her!" she yelled, pressing her gun into his back.

"Hey, I didn't force anything on her, sister. That ain't my fault! She came to me, that worthless bitch!"

Cruz's eyes narrowed and she glared at him. "Shut up!"

"I didn't force her, she fucked up all by herself!"

"I said shut up!"

"You should've seen her, begging for more..." Diaz laughed, oblivious to the murderous thoughts crossing her mind.

A surge of rage suddenly flooded her and she hit him in the head with the butt of her gun. She watched as his body went limp and got up, a proud grin on her face. She brushed some hair out of her face and tucked her gun back into the waistband of her jeans, taking a deep breath, when suddenly something came back to her. "Bosco."

She took off, her quick steps echoing in the hallway, scanning the rooms until she found him sprawled to the ground, bleeding from a head wound. "Bosco!" she called again, but he didn't move.

She walked closer, and was about to bend down and make sure he was alright when her gaze landed on his gun, still resting beside his unmoving body.

She reached out her hand, then stopped, shaking her head as if trying to shake the thought off her mind. Her eyes darted back and forth between Bosco's still form and his weapon as a million thoughts screamed inside her head.

She eventually approached him and checked for a pulse, relief washing over her when she found one, but she didn't try to wake him up. She just walked back to where the gun was and took it in her hand, staring at it as if it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Taking another deep breath, she stepped out into the hallway, her eyes wide with excitement and fear. No one knew their exact location so no one was supposed to come unless she radioed for backup, and that left her plenty of time to carry out her sick plan.

She didn't slow down or give her idea a second thought. The man she held responsible of her little sister's death, the one she'd vowed revenge on was still unconscious, hands behind his back. She couldn't have asked for a better chance.

Payback's a bitch, she smiled. Take it or leave it.

She raised her hand, gun drawn, and pointed it at Diaz. She didn't think about Bosco, the man she was supposed to be in love with. Not once as she pulled the trigger and fired his weapon. Once, twice, three times.

Not as she watched his body jerk as the bullets hit him, and then go limp again. She didn't feel sad or sorry for murdering a man in cold blood, relief the only feeling flowing through her.

Her lips broke into a twisted smile as she closed her eyes and took a few, shallow breaths before crouching down next to Diaz's body to make sure he was really dead.

"No one's going to miss you, asshole." She whispered to his ear. "And you know what? I always win. Always."

She patted him on the shoulder and pushed herself up to her feet, glancing down the corridor. No witnesses. Perfect.

In the dimly lit room a few feet ahead, it seemed like time had stopped the minute she'd chosen to cross the line between good and bad, between a cop and a criminal.

Bosco was still out, but she figured it wouldn't be long before he started to wake up. She knelt down in front of him again and pulled a blue scarf out of her jacket pocket, using it to wipe out any fingerprints or whatever evidence the weapon might hold.

No hesitation crossed her unwavering stare, not the slightest hint of remorse as she carefully placed it in his hand.

Bosco stirred, his fingers curling involuntarily around the gun. His eyelids fluttered but didn't open. She carefully removed his handcuffs from his belt and placed them on her own.

"I guess I should say I'm sorry now, but I'm not." She snided, her eyes gleaming in the low light coming from the hallway. "The bastard deserved to die and you... you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But that's who you are, right? You always get into trouble so no one will care, not even that bitch partner of yours, and no one's going to believe you over me."

She paused, another small grin lighting her face.

"I can't go to jail, not when I can still make a difference out there. Life isn't fair, Boscorelli. I know it sucks, but we all have priorities, and mine is revenge. ...I did have a good time though, you're a great lover..." she finished, tracing her fingers over his chest. Her features softened for a moment, but as quickly as it'd come, the moment passed away, and she regained her composure. Don't let your feelings get in the way, she told herself before reaching for her cellphone and heading out the room.

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