Beta: Fran
Prereaders: Jill, Ariel, and Pearly
My heart belongs to: My readers
I don't own: Twilight or the FBI
Does the Human Intelligence Unit really exist? Unfortunately, that's beyond your security clearance.Angela's office is in an entirely different building, but we're all on the same central base, so it's way too easy for me to find her and figure out what the fuck she's doing.
Or not doing, rather.
The offices of our Human Intelligence Investigation Unit are in complete chaos 99% of the time, and today is no different. Potential cases are always popping up, some larger than others, and there is always a low din of frantic voices working to crack them.
Angela stands in the middle of the fray, talking on her phone. I can tell by the look on her face that it's serious, but all I can focus on is the fact that she's not watching Bella. As I get closer, I see that Bella is on her screen. No video, just the familiar background of her phone, her Facebook feed, things like that.
I know everything about what her life looks like, even if it's spelled out in nothing more than a sequence of zeros and ones that make up the code that creates the picture in front of me.
I tower over her desk, intentionally casting a shadow like the creepy, anxious fuck I am. She meets my eyes with a smileāone that instantly falters when she sees what I'm sure is a furious look on my face.
"Yes, sir. I will check into that and get right back with you," her thumb taps the end call button, her forehead creasing with concern. "What's the matter, Edward?"
"I need you to come with me," I grit out through my teeth.
The problem is, I can't confront her here where anyone can overhear what's going on...because I shouldn't know any of the stuff, I now know. I shouldn't still have access to Bella's case to have any fucking idea what she may or may not be planning.
"Why? Is everything okay?"
"No, everything is not fucking okay."
It's harsh, but she's lucky I'm keeping myself at the small level of cool that I am.
"Okay, okay," she throws her hands up in surrender, piling some files together and closing out everything on her computer.
When we're back at my office, the door shut and locked, I lean back against it and sigh heavily, rubbing my eyes with my thumb and forefinger.
"You wanna tell me why you haven't found Isabella's confession that she's basically a hired assassin? The one hiding in her documents?" I try so hard to keep my voice calm and level. To try to avoid overreacting more than necessary.
But this shit is fucking scary, and if I'm right, I could be in big fucking trouble.
'Cause, ya know, I wasn't already or anything.
"Excuse me? What are you talking about, and how do you know about it?" Angela spits, tossing her papers on my desk and crossing her arms.
"Please spare the mama bear look on me, Ang. Look at my computer screen; read what I have on it. I'm sure it'll be real fucking enlightening."
I'm not sure I've ever gotten this tone with Angela, but my body doesn't know what to do with itself. I'm upset, pissed off, betrayed, my ego is shaken, and I don't know anything about anything at this point.
Angela stares at me for a beat longer, then turns away from me, walking around my desk and sitting in the chair. I know she gets it a couple minutes later when her hand flies to her mouth, and she speaks for the first time since she started reading.
"Holy fuck."
