Ch. 16: Burning Bright

Walt ran his fingers through his hair and replaced his hat. Vic sat on the passenger seat hunched over her phone, her fingers rapidly moving over the screen texting faster than Walt knew to be possible. Lifting her head, she looked his way. Her cheeks were red from the wind outside. Back in the Bronco, the heater was blowing away at the highest level. Vic reached up and brushed some stray hair out of her face, her hat sat discarded in her lap where she dropped it when she pulled it off.

"Anything from Cady?"

She shook her head.

"She hasn't heard from him."

Walt sighed. He looked out the windshield only able to see the road directly ahead of him that was lit up by his headlights. In the beam of light, heavy snow could be seen whirling to the ground in ever changing patterns.

"The snow makes it hard to see any tracks. Near impossible."

Vic didn't like the tone she heard in Walt's voice. She knew he had more experience than the rest of them put together in situations like this. He was normally the voice of reason and calm. But, right now, she could sense a new tension coiling up inside of him.

He tapped his hand on the wheel and glanced back at her truck. Vic's eyes followed his line of sight.

"Think you can pull it out or should we leave it until morning?"

She could see the wheels turning in his head. The damage to the truck was minimal. The only apparent damage was the back bumper. It had come to rest in a small stand of trees. There would be scratches, but no structural damage.

"I have a chain. Keys weren't in the ignition."

"Good thing I have a spare."

He smiled the smallest bit.

"I think I can get it back on the road."

Vic nodded and reached for her hat, preparing herself mentally and physically to return to the elements and not looking forward to it. Walt took a deep breath and looked her way. Vic pulled on her hat and pulled it down so that her ears were covered.

"If we can get it back to the office, we can have a better look at it."

He nodded.

"That's what I was thinking."

Pulling the door handle, Vic slid from the comfort of the Bronco and winced as the wind and snow hit her face. While Walt opened up the cargo area to get out his chain, Vic squeezed her way into the cab of the truck with her spare key. Sliding it into the ignition, she turned it and let out a breath when the motor came to life.

Vic found Walt attaching the chain between the Bronco and the truck. He stepped in close to her so that she could hear him.

"Put it in reverse and give it gas. Lightly. When I tap the horn."

Vic nodded and got behind the wheel of the truck, her eyes settling on the rearview mirror, watching Walt finish with the chain and get into the Bronco.

It was slow, icy work. Vic felt the chain tighten as Walt carefully started to pull and her foot gently pressed on the gas. The first few attempts accomplished nothing. Vic applied steady pressure and the truck began to move slowly backward. She could tell that Walt was taking his time. The pickup struggled to find traction on the road, but Vic felt it when the tires finally began to grip.

It felt like an eternity before the truck was back on the roadway. Walt put the Bronco into park and Vic watched him get out and begin to detach the chain. She took the opportunity to click on the interior light and look around the truck. Nothing seemed amiss. Nothing of Ferg's was still in the truck. No wallet. No keys. No personal items that weren't Vic's.

Hearing a tap on the window, she looked up to see Walt standing there. Vic lowered the window and leaned in.

"I don't see anything in here that looks off. It looks just like I left it."

Walt glanced down the road. Vic knew he didn't like to give up on something. It wasn't in his DNA. Even now, retired, he still possessed the same drive that made him a successful Sheriff for so many years. Vic reached out and touched his arm.

"Let's head back. We can regroup and come up with a plan."

He looked her way and she could see that he knew she was right. They needed a plan. They needed to talk to Cady. He dipped his face and his eyes met hers again.

"Right. You're okay to drive this?"

Vic glanced at the truck and nodded.

"Yeah. I'll meet you back at the office."

Walt hesitated for a second longer, holding her eyes.

"Be careful."

She nodded as they started to move apart.

"You too. See you in a few minutes."

Walt got back into the Bronco and straightened up on the road. He checked his mirror to see Vic pull in behind him, her headlights piercing the snow. This was something none of them had anticipated. Of all his concerns for how this evening and night might play out, Ferg going missing wasn't one that crossed his mind. For once, he wasn't thinking about his own problems. Or Will Cain. He was thinking about the young deputy he had hired years ago and the man he watched him turn into on the job and in his personal life.

His cell phone buzzed. Keeping one hand steadily on the wheel, he lifted the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

Walt's eyes instinctively shifted to his mirror, unsure as to why she was calling him when she was right behind him.

"What's up?"

"Ferg just called."

Walt exhaled with surprise.

"Just now?"

"Yeah, he's at a truck stop about five miles up the highway."

"He okay?"

"It was a quick conversation, but he seems okay. Asked me to swing by and pick him up."

His eyes drifted to the mirror again.

"Want me to go?"

He could see her shake her head in his mind.

"No, that's okay. I got it. You head on back. Let Cady know. I'll call you if I need you."

"You sure?"

He had to ask.

"Yeah, shouldn't take long."

Walt swallowed, his mouth dry.

"Be careful."

"You too."

With that she disconnected the call. A minute or so later, she turned off and the distance between them suddenly felt insurmountable.

xxx

"The call was legit?"

Ferg nodded.

"Yeah, she called her son from my cell and he picked us up from the truck. Dropped me off here since they don't live in town."

Vic frowned.

"Where is your phone? We've been trying to call you."

Ferg made a face.

"Battery died."

Vic shook her head. She wasn't familiar with the truck stop he directed her to. It was more of an ancient looking convenience store that smelled like stale coffee and feet. But, it was warm inside and she found Ferg standing near the door with a cup of coffee, his free hand shoved into the jacket of his Carhartt. Except for the bored looking clerk who was reading a raggedy paperback, they were the only two people around.

"Crazy shit. You see who hit you?"

Ferg shrugged.

"Visibility was bad. It was a tap, but I hit a patch of ice and spun out. Sorry the truck is dented."

Vic flapped her hand at him.

"Truck's fine. Would've been nice of the jackass to stop. That could've went south quick."

Ferg nodded. He tossed the paper cup that his coffee was in into a nearby trashcan as Vic led the way back to the glass doors. She paused with her hand on the cold glass.

"Snow's letting up a little."

She pushed the door open and led the way back to the truck. Ferg slid into the passenger seat and pulled the seat belt across his chest.

"It was a truck. Pickup."

Vic gave him a look.

"The car that hit you?"

He nodded.

"That's all I was able to see. Couldn't really make out a color, but it looked kind of dark."

Vic's brow furrowed.

"Who the hell is out in this shit anyway? Crazy ass people."

Ferg turned his eyes to the window.

"Guess the weather brings out all kinds."

Vic just shook her head.

"No one should be out in this storm. Jesus, we shouldn't be out in this."

Ferg glanced her way.

"You didn't call Meg, did you?"

Vic gave him a half smile, understanding the question.

"No, you're safe there."

He smiled in return.

"Good. No reason to scare her for nothing."

Vic nodded, her eyes on the road.

"She still giving you a hard time?"

He was quiet for a beat of time.

"Only when I have to break plans."

It was a familiar pattern that Vic knew all too well. She liked Meg well enough, even though they weren't overly familiar with each other. And, it was easy to say Meg knew what she was getting into with Ferg once he managed to win her back. But, love could be blind. Dating someone who was a cop was different than living with or marrying them and realizing just how much together time could be lost to the job.

She really had no answers for him.

"How do you balance it all?"

His voice broke into her thoughts.

"You're asking me?"

She saw him look her way out of the corner of her eye.

"Thinking out loud, really. Guess it's easier for you. Walt understands."

They were true words. It hadn't taken Vic long at all to note the difference between unexpected work calls with Sean and with Walt after his retirement became official. Sean always grumbled about her putting her job before him. If she were being brutally honest with herself, it had been the truth. But, there was more to that situation than met the eye. It was easier for her and Sean to avoid each other than to work out their problems.

The path of least resistance, so to speak.

With Walt, it was different. Herself included. She knew now that the job couldn't be her life. She didn't want it to be. Her priorities were reorganized at this point in her life. Even beyond all of that, though, Walt understood. He knew the demands of working in such a small department. He knew the challenges they all faced. So, it was easier with him.

Ferg and Meg would need to figure out what worked for them as individuals and as a couple. Maybe even eventually as a family. No one could do it for them.

"Want some advice?"

That did get her a look. It was a rare offer from Vic, who didn't really consider herself in a position to give relationship advice.

"Sure."

He didn't sound overly confident in his answer.

"Talk to her."

She heard a low laugh escape him.

"That's it?"

Vic smiled at his reaction.

"Yep. Talk to her. Get things out in the open. Always been my screwup."

She looked his way and met his eyes briefly before returning her eyes to the road.

Walt and Cady were waiting when she and Ferg walked in brushing snow from their coats. Vic shrugged off her duty jacket and tossed it over her chair before rubbing her hands together. She noticed Walt's hat lying in the center of her desk, brim up as always. She heard his familiar footsteps behind her and turned to find him holding a full cup of coffee in her Flyers mug. He offered her the mug. Vic took it gratefully, wrapping both hands around to absorb its warmth

"Thanks."

He smiled.

"Ferg's no worse for the wear."

She shook her head and took a sip of her coffee.

"No, he's good. He didn't get a good look at the truck that hit him."

"Truck?"

Vic nodded.

"Yeah. He said it was a truck. Couldn't tell much else."

"Dad, the snow is picking up again."

Walt turned to see Cady coming up behind them. She wore a look of concern.

"I think you should stay here until morning. When the weather breaks."

Walt could hear the worry in his daughter's voice.

"I've been driving in this for years, Punk. It's nothing new."

Cady looked to Vic.

"Help."

Vic smiled and shifted her eyes to Walt.

"Stay."

Her smile faded some. Even though he could hear a teasing note in her voice, he could also pick up on the seriousness behind it all. Her eyes held his for only a second before she looked at Cady.

"If he tries to leave, just lock him up."

Cady didn't even bother trying to suppress the smile on her face.

"Sounds good."

Without another word to Walt, she walked off towards her office. Walt watched as Vic sat down at her desk and leaned back in her chair.

"Thanks for the backup."

She shrugged, taking another sip from her mug.

"Anytime."

She smiled up at him and he couldn't help but return the gesture.

In truth, he didn't mind being stuck here with her at all.

xxx

He heard the soft tread of her boots over the floor and knew it was her. He had heard the sound of Vic walking over these floors long enough to know what her walk sounded like, even when she was walking quietly.

Walt was stretched out on the cot in the cell, his hat partially over his eyes. She paused and he spoke.

"I'm awake."

Walt used his index finger to push the hat out of his line of sight. Vic stood a foot or so away from the cot, her eyes on him.

"Thought you were napping?"

"That why you came in here?"

He knew it wasn't. Not the way she walked in so quietly and carefully.

"No."

Walt sat up, removing his hat and laying it on his lap. With the space now free, Vic sat down beside him and stretched her legs out in front of her.

"Long night."

His voice broke the silence between them. Vic nodded.

"Yeah. It's almost light out."

He glanced at his watch.

"Yep."

Vic looked his way, something clearly on her mind.

"You've been quiet tonight."

He ran his thumb over the soft brim of his hat.

"You were all working. Didn't want to be in the way."

Vic half smiled.

"You're not in the way. But…"

She stopped and looked down at the floor.

"But what?"

He prompted her to complete her thought. Vic raised her eyes.

"What's up?"

It didn't surprise him that she had picked up on his thoughtful bearing. Still, it was just thoughts. Nothing concrete. Certainly nothing factual. When he didn't answer, Vic responded by bumping him with her elbow.

"Would you rather talk about it at home?"

He knew she wasn't going to let it go.

"What if whoever bumped Ferg thought it was you?"

A crease appeared on her forehead. He almost regretted giving the thought a voice based on the look she was giving him.

"You think it was intentional?"

He looked down at his hat.

"I think anything is possible."

Vic bit her lip, considering his thoughts. She was mulling it over hard. Walt could see that.

"Could be nothing. Could be Ferg was driving your truck and visibility obscured that fact."

"Then why drive off? Why not stop and see?"

She was challenging him the way she always had. Not in a manner that suggested she disagreed. But, in way that would force him to think about what he was saying. It was one of the reasons they worked well together. She never took what he said at face value. Or anyone really. Always pushed for more.

"Can't say. It's just a thought. Ferg did say it was a truck."

Her chin dipped a little.

"Yeah, he told me that, too. Said it looked dark in color."

She paused for a couple of seconds.

"Cain's truck is blue. Light blue."

"It is."

Vic shifted on the cot, sliding one boot across the floor.

"That's not to say he couldn't have gotten a different one."

With that comment, the track her thoughts were on converged with his own. She turned her head and their eyes met.

"There you are!"

They both jumped at the sound of Cady's voice. She walked up to the cell door with a smile on her face. Vic looked up and cleared her throat.

"You need me?"

Cady shook her head.

"No. But the sky is clearing. It'll be light in less than an hour. Why don't you go on home?"

Vic nodded slowly and pushed up from the cot.

"Not gonna argue with that."

Walt stood up as well, his hat in his hand.

"Guess that's my cue."

Cady looked his way.

"Thanks for coming last night."

Walt nodded as he put on his hat and smiled at his daughter.

"Anytime, Punk."

He moved by her and left her alone with Vic. Vic reached up to stifle a yawn.

"Hear from Zach?"

Cady nodded.

"Yeah, he called me about an hour ago. His mom is going to be okay."

Vic smiled.

"That's…good news."

"Vic, did I interrupt something?"

Vic paused.

"What do you mean?"

Cady gestured at the cot.

"I mean…you two seemed pretty intense when I walked up."

Vic looked beyond Cady to where Walt was pulling on his coat.

"Well, part of the night was intense so…"

She moved around Cady slowly, waiting for a response. Cady watched her.

"Right."

The word came out quiet. Cady seemed to shake off whatever it was as they left the cell.

"Go…on home and get some rest."

Vic reached for her duty jacket.

"If you need me, call me."

She zipped up her jacket and pulled her keys out. Cady nodded with a smile.

"Thanks."

Vic and Walt left the office, walking slowly down the stairs. He noticed her yawn.

"Tired?"

"Yeah. Ready to get a hot shower and just lay in the bed."

He smiled at the appealing thought of joining her in both endeavors. Walt pulled the door open for her.

"Sounds like a plan."

Vic veered from his side and started for her truck. The snow was now not much more than flurries, the wind much calmer. Walt walked around the side of his Bronco and placed his hand on the door handle.

"Walt!"

His head snapped in her direction. Her voice sounded all wrong from the tone she had literally just used with him. Walt covered the distance between them miraculously without even slipping. She was standing beside her truck, keys in hand. She didn't look his way. She was looking down. From the angle, he couldn't get a good read on her expression, but her posture was tight and tense. He lowered his eyes and followed her gaze.

It only took him a second to register what she was looking at.

The tires of her truck were flat, clear slash marks visible.

xxx

Vic tossed her keys towards the table with enough force that once the metal and wood made contact, the keys skittered across the surface barely slowing down. They slipped off the far side and hit the floor of the apartment with a clatter. In the quiet, the series of sounds seemed amplified. Walt paused, taking her in. He removed his hat and set it aside.

To say that she was mad would have done her mood a disservice.

She turned and more or less wrenched her coat off. Walt removed his own coat and tossed it over the bed.

"I hate this."

Despite the anger in her movements, the words came out eerily calm but through gritted teeth. She turned to him and placed her hands on her hips.

"I know."

It was all he had to offer her. There wasn't much else he could say.

Vic dropped her hands to her sides and turned to the window. Late morning light was filtering in, their trip home being delayed after the discovery of Vic's tires. Walking over to the bed, she sat down with a soft thud.

"He was there."

The comment wasn't necessary. But, Walt knew she needed to get it out.

"Yep."

She looked up at him.

"That all you got to say?"

Walt shrugged.

"What do you want me to say?"

Vic leaned forward and let her arms rest on her thighs. Her eyes shifted down to her own hands where they were clasped together between her knees. Silence stretched out between them as she sat and he stood, neither moving.

Finally, she looked up.

"What if that had been me he pushed off the road?"

Walt didn't like to entertain that thought. As it was, no one had been hurt. He knew that if it were Vic and not Ferg, that story likely end differently. That was something that made him feel sick to his stomach. And, it scared him.

"I think we both know the answer to that."

Vic nodded slowly.

"I'm dead maybe."

Maybe. Maybe not. There was no way to know how such a scenario would have played out. Barring an injury, it's a possibility the cards would fall in her favor and she gets Cain before he gets her. But, with just enough confusion, maybe the advantage is Cain's. Maybe he gets what he's after and she is dead.

For Walt, the thought is unthinkable. Yet, here it is, staring him in the face. Here it is, giving him no choice but to have a showdown with his deepest fear. Losing his home was one thing. It was a blow, yes. But, not insurmountable. Losing Vic is something entirely different. He's looked down the barrel of that gun before and he knows the end result is catastrophic.

"Maybe."

He managed to croak the word out. In the quiet of the apartment, they stare at each other and acknowledge the grim reality of what could have been. What might have been but for one little twist in the story.

Vic reached up and rubbed her hands over her face. He knew she was tired. Hell, he was tired. Neither of them slept the night before. Letting her hands run all the way down her face and then off, she stood up.

"I can't do this anymore. I can't live like this."

Walt tilted his head.

"What're you saying?"

She inhaled and let her eyes drift around the room.

"We're hiding and hoping for the best. The official investigation is going nowhere. They have nothing on him. This…this isn't us. We don't hide. We fight."

Something in his blood felt like an icy river.

"Vic…"

She shook her head.

"No, it's the truth. I know, in the beginning, I told you not to go after him. And…I mean that. I won't risk you. But…this…is bullshit and I won't hide anymore."

Walt shifted on his feet, having a hard time following her. He could almost see her trying to collect her thoughts and give them a voice. When her eyes fell on him again, there was something different about them. There was a resolution he hadn't seen in them before. Something gritty.

"I'm gonna call Cady and tell her I'm coming back to work. Tomorrow."

Walt stepped in.

"That's not gonna solve anything."

She waved him off.

"Walt, we've been holed up for days now. Barely going anywhere. He's winning."

"You said you didn't want me to go after him."

She nodded slowly, swallowing.

"I don't. But…there's no law that says we can't…draw him out. The…the best way to sort this out is to go about our lives. Business as usual."

"Which makes you vulnerable."

"It makes us both vulnerable. But…he won't be able to resist."

Walt wished he had just gone after the man when this had first started. Removed him from the equation before things got this far. Now, it felt like they were on a runaway train and there was no way off other than jumping.

"Let me handle this. It's me he wants."

She smiled at him. A dark smile that held nothing remotely resembling humor or goodwill.

"Not anymore. This isn't just your fight, Walt. Not after all this. This is our fight. Me and you. It's not our first."

She was right about that. God knows, there had been plenty of showdowns in the past. He could tick them off from memory. Each time, they came out on top. But, they also lost something every time. Some piece of themselves. The final faceoff with Chance Gilbert had nearly cost him Vic's life. This felt eerily similar. Except, Gilbert didn't hide. He dared them to come for him. Now, she wanted to reverse those roles.

Make the hunter the hunted so to speak.

She looked away from him.

"I'm going to take a shower."

She seemed drained now. Tired.

Without waiting for a reply, she moved by him and started to sift around for clean clothes before disappearing into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

xxx

"Feeling better?"

Vic gave him a dubious look.

"Are you serious?"

He nodded at the half-eaten pizza he had gotten from the bar downstairs for breakfast/lunch.

"You done?"

Vic nodded.

"Yeah."

She stood up from the small chair and walked over to the bed, sitting down. Walt put the food away in the impossibly small kitchenette and joined her, standing beside the bed.

"I am serious, Vic. You're scaring me."

Vic didn't answer. She pulled back the sheets on the bed and slid under them, adjusting the sheets around her. She looked up into his face.

"That makes two of us."

Walt sat on the side of the bed, tilting her in his direction.

"Let's get some sleep. We'll talk about this later."

She shook her head.

"You're not gonna change my mind."

He knew that was more than likely true. Since this started, Vic had run through a gamut of emotions. They both had. Now, she was honing in on who she really was. Who she'd always been. The same woman who came after Chance that night, despite his ordering her not to. The same woman who pushed him from in front of a speeding vehicle. She was digging her heels in.

If someone went after Cain, he wanted it to be him. But, he knew Vic would never stand for that. Not voluntarily, anyway.

Her hand on his knee drug his attention back to her.

"Take a shower. Lay down with me. You gotta be tired."

Walt nodded and briefly covered her hand with his own, noting the difference in size. It was easy to forget how small she could seem. Her presence could be so demanding. Without a word, he stood up and left her lying there while he made quick work of a shower.

He expected to find her asleep when he came out. Instead, she was lying on her side facing the bathroom door with her eyes open. They met his immediately when he came through the door. Walt walked up to the bed slowly.

"You should be asleep."

She smiled, for the first time since they found her tires slashed.

"So should you."

Her words were barely a murmur, drowsy. Walt lay down beside her, Vic rolling to face him. Resting her lips against the upper part of his bare arm, she pressed a kiss to the skin there. Her hands traced a soft line over his abdomen.

"Thought you were sleepy."

She smiled again.

"I am."

Sitting up, she moved up and over him, sliding one leg over him until she was sitting on him and looking down into his face. Holding his eyes with hers, she pulled her tank top over her head and tossed it aside. Walt slid his hands up her sides and around to her back as she carefully lowered herself down and kissed him long and almost dreamlike.

His rough palms ran over the smooth skin of her back and her hair fell around her face, filling his senses with the familiar smell that was her. He inhaled. She smelled good. It was both comforting and alluring at the same time.

The sex seemed like a dream on Walt's part. Slow and measured, yet oddly intense in a way there weren't words for. Through most of it, she kept her torso close to his, her mouth hovering just around his ear blowing warm breaths across his skin and whispering words in his ear he had trouble processing.

When it was over, she lay down on top of him and pressed her face into his neck. Walt tilted his head so that his chin brushed her shoulder, his arms around her and holding her there. He wasn't sure how long they stayed that way. He even thought she might have fallen asleep.

Until she moved.

Sliding off of him, Vic curled into his side and stretched her arm out across his stomach. She was asleep in minutes and Walt wasn't far behind.

xxx

Vic startled awake. She looked around, thinking something must've woken her up. Walt wasn't in the bed. She knew that immediately. Sitting up, she looked around, trying to straighten out her sleep fatigued mind. She looked at her phone and saw it was evening. Dinnertime. Tossing back the blankets, Vic stood up and fished around for clean clothes. Pulling on jeans and a long sleeved shirt, she shoved her feet into socks against the chill of the floor.

Her phone didn't indicate any missed calls. Walt clearly wasn't in the apartment. But, his keys lay on the table where he had left them earlier in the day. She noticed he had also picked up her keys and laid them alongside his. Vic sighed and pulled on her boots with a frown. His phone also lay where he left it. Calling him would be pointless.

Vic left the apartment and walked downstairs to the bar. She pushed open the saloon doors and stood scanning the bar. Not spotting him, Vic made her way slowly through the mix of people talking and dancing. Stopping at the bar, she leaned on it and waited for Tom to notice her. He was busy moving up and down, taking orders and setting drinks out.

After a few minutes, his eyes landed on her and a small smile played across his face. He walked up and gave her broader smile.

"Evening, Vic. Can I get you a drink?"

Vic shook her head.

"No thanks. Have you seen Walt?"

He nodded.

"He came in earlier for a few minutes."

Vic leaned in, trying to hear him over the din behind her.

"He say he was going somewhere?"

Tom shook his head.

"No. He sat at the bar for a few minutes and had a beer. He used the phone here."

He nodded at the phone he kept behind the bar.

"You know who he called?"

Tom looked at her questioningly.

"Is something wrong?"

Vic shrugged.

"I don't know. I can't find him. His keys and his phone are upstairs. I doubt he walked anywhere in this weather."

Her tone was no nonsense. Tom gave her a sympathetic look. Vic sighed.

"Was he the last one to use the phone?"

Tom nodded.

"Yeah, think so."

"Can you hit redial?"

He hesitated for a second before setting the phone on the bar.

"Here."

Vic lifted the phone and hit the button. Waiting, she sat through several rings before a voicemail picked up. She knew the voice before he ever identified himself on the recording. Vic hung up the phone and pushed back from the bar.

"Solve your mystery?"

"Maybe. He called Henry."

"Ah. Makes sense. Haven't seen Henry tonight."

Vic took a step away from the bar.

"I'll call his cell from upstairs. Thanks."

Tom smiled at her again.

"No problem. Sure you don't want a drink? I don't normally do carry out drinks for obvious reasons. But, since you're going upstairs…"

She shook her head at the offer.

"No. Thanks, anyway."

Turning away from the bar, Vic pushed back through the swinging doors. She paused and had a thought. Instead of going back upstairs, she walked down the hallway that led to the back door where the Bronco was parked. Bracing herself against the cold, she pushed open the back door and stepped outside. The Bronco was sitting there, just as they left it.

Vic frowned and stepped all the way outside, leaving the door ajar. Walking up to the Bronco, she pulled at the door handle and opened it. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Vic heard the door behind her close with a loud slam. Turning, she stopped with one hand still on the Bronco door handle.

Will Cain stood between her and the now closed door with a smile on his face. He tilted his head, his dark eyes on her.

"Victoria, imagine meeting you here."

Vic's hand moved instinctively to her side to find only emptiness. His smile widened.

"Not armed, Deputy Moretti? You should know better."

Vic mentally cursed herself for coming out unarmed. In her still sleepy state, it hadn't even crossed her mind. But, she also hadn't planned on coming outside. Her only thought was that Walt might be out back talking to Henry.

Cain took a step towards her. Vic closed the door of the Bronco and faced him.

"Took you long enough to show up. Tired of skulking around?"

He reached around behind him. When his arm came back into view, Vic fully expected there to be a gun in his hand. But, it was a knife with a blade that looked like it could do some serious damage. She refused to let him see any fear on her face, refused to give him that much satisfaction.

"Well, you know, I had to time it just right."

He looked around.

"Where's Walt?"

Vic didn't answer, only looked between him and the door. Cain shook his head like he was reading her mind.

"You won't make it. I would like to tell you that this won't hurt. But, that would be a lie. Ever taken a knife to the gut?"

Vic could hear her heart pounding in her ears, her body tensing. Adrenaline was pumping through her as her options ran through her mind. He was right. There was little chance of her making it through the door behind him. She could take off and try to get around the building. But, he still had an advantage as she would still have to get by him. He wasn't big like Walt. But, he was taller and heavier than Henry. Unarmed, she would have to take him physically. That route wasn't without risks.

Gravel crunched under his boots as he took another step towards her. On gut reaction, Vic took a step back, trying to keep the distance between them the same.

He smiled, his dirty teeth showing through.

"What's wrong? I thought you were some kind of badass. You haven't been stabbed I take it. Trust me, it's a bitch."

He paused before he pushed through with his talking. Babbling in Vic's mind.

"You've been shot, right? How was that?"

Her jaw tightened.

"Jesus. Whatever you're gonna do, just do it."

His smile faded.

"Why rush? Want me to tell you what I'm gonna do? Curious?"

He looked at the blade.

"I'm gonna run this in as deep as it'll go, pull it out and do it again. Haven't decided yet if I'm gonna kill you outright or…have some fun first."

Vic swallowed.

"He'll kill you."

The words came out raspy, her nerves getting the better of her. Cain shrugged.

"Maybe. Maybe not. But, I'll have the satisfaction of seeing him broken first."

He studied her.

"Tell me one thing. What do you see in him?"

She had no intention of giving him a real answer, so she shrugged.

"Why do you hate him so much? Because he's everything that you're not?"

"You don't know anything about me."

Vic looked directly into his eyes.

"I know you tried to rape a girl in high school. I know that you nearly beat a woman to death. Tell me…how is any of that on Walt? Or do you just not have the guts to take responsibility for your own actions?"

He was mad now, his eyes flashing with anger. He took another step in her direction, his hand gripping the knife tightly. Vic's mind played through all the ways it could play out when he made his move. She felt tight, like a rubber band ready to snap.

"You're just like every other bitch I've ever dealt with."

Vic tried to swallow, but her mouth was completely dry. An odd silence wound its way through them. Their eyes were locked in that moment. It seemed to go on and on. The only sound Vic could hear was the beating of her own heart. Her eyes never broke away from his.

Then, he moved.