Before we resume our regularly scheduled update, I want to take a minute to thank everyone who's stuck with this long and winding tale through all the twists and turns. I'm gonna try my best to make the payoff worth it!
And now, back to the program : )
####
You could never run far enough. That was the great life lesson she almost forgot.
Until today.
The past few days, she might've actually called them good. She'd met a cute guy. Sure, he probably had TROUBLE tattooed on his back, but wasn't that part of the appeal? She'd been riding the good ship 'questionable' herself for longer than she even wanted to think about. At least she wasn't doing those…things anymore. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but those two finding her out, it'd probably saved her life.
That didn't mean she wouldn't keep that tiny light in her room burning every night, though, no matter how much of a kiddie move that was. It wasn't the dark she was afraid of; it was the things that cloaked themselves in the black. The shadows that blended in, until –
And now one of those shadows had detached itself, snuck up behind her, and grabbed her throat. All in the form of a screaming little boy.
At the first "No," she froze, every bone in her body stone. That blood running cold thing was more than bad wordplay.
The guy she'd been working overtime to impress was just a figment, cut off at the "Hey, what's –"
And at the "killed Mommy," she vehemently shook off Tyrone's hand and moved toward the chaos. Ever the magnet.
"Logan," she said.
It wasn't a loud command, more of a quiet plea.
But the little boy stopped squirming, stopped fighting, and relaxed into the man's arms.
"Jun." His voice was still hoarse, but the sound of her name for the first time in months still socked her in the gut. Any other time, she might've stared stupidly at the man's scars, but the mixture of confusion and relief in his eyes - and his quiet kiss to the boy's head - captivated her instead. "Logan," he breathed. "At least we know your name now."
"And so do I."
Jun sighed and let out a small curse under her breath. Then she turned to the woman who had materialized behind them: the woman staring at her expectantly.
"Hello, Jun. Nice to meet you."
####
It was the craziest thing, except maybe it wasn't. The boy's wide eyes were regarding the girl with an equal balance of fear and affection as she swept a finger behind his ear. And hers – hers were the perfect mirror.
Brot and Natalia led the boy away (the boy who held a new coin tightly in his grip), in search of their own answers. But Bianca knew they'd be back, so her time was short.
"Do you ? –"
"Leave me the hell alone, okay?" Her arms were crossed, accentuating the point. Part defiance, part an effort to keep the tremors at bay.
"Listen to her."
She'd become too acquainted with that voice, too familiar with the complications it always brought.
The newly anointed Jun was even less grateful for the intrusion. "What is this: good cop, bad cop?" she asked, turning to Yasmin.
The woman shrugged, now addressing Bianca. "Who the heck is supposed to be the good one?" she deadpanned before turning back to the girl. "Adhara, Jamila, Hanan, Majah, Sommer."
Bianca couldn't exactly blame the girl for the furrow in her brow.
"Those are all the names I've used in the past. The ones I remember, anyway. See, I know all about digging yourself in deep. I've still got my shovel handy now," Yasmin said, holding Bianca's gaze. "Come on," she motioned to the door. "You heard her."
Bianca nodded, on impulse. On faith.
They made it approximately ten feet before being stopped by a quiet, but firm, "Wait."
The two shared a glance before rejoining Jun in an undisturbed corner of the center.
Within moments, the girl bit her lip, uncrossed her arms, and began talking.
"My home, the place where I lived, it wasn't exactly the greatest. I'd heard all the stats, you know, about kids on the streets: within 48 hours, 90 percent are…approached, but that chance – it seemed better than the alternative. So I left, and surely enough -"
Jun paused long enough to take another shuddering breath.
"I considered it. I did, even when I thought - but it wasn't what I thought. What I expected, not at all. They told me I'd never have to do 'that.' They just needed somebody to deliver a few packages sometimes, no big deal. Just a part-time job, really. All teens had them, right? That's….that where I met Logan. He was always there, at one of the places I had to go. I figured he was one of the guys' son. I knew that was no place for a kid, but it wasn't my job to ask questions; I just got in and out quick as I could. But sometimes, while I waited for one of the packages, Logan and me would kid around. He really loved that coin from behind the ear thing. Only trick I knew, but you'd think I was David Blaine or something." The grin that had escaped onto her face quickly evaporated. "One day, I heard him screaming. I looked in the window, saw the blood…I never went back after that day, but I thought about him a lot. Logan. And I thought about the woman I saw drenched in blood. I didn't know it was his mom, until – until today. When he said it."
Almost ten years of hearing stories that proved no horror was unimaginable, and she still hadn't numbed to it. No matter how hard she tried. What kind of unspoken hell had this girl been through that becoming a drug runner seemed like the easier path?
Bianca took one of Jun's hands. Yasmin had taken the other.
"Do you know who did it? Was it Logan's father?"
She expected another stone wall to be erected. Or perhaps a half-hearted 'no.' So when Jun got up and crossed the room, she had already defied the expectation. And when she laid a folder – a photo – on the table, she shattered it.
"Him," she said. "It was him."
It was the face of the man, the monster, Bianca had been pursuing for the better part of a year.
Joaquin Espinoza.
####
"Chief, a Cara Castillo just called, and she wanted to speak with you directly. She insisted that it was urgent."
"Thank you."
Jesse took the paper with the doctor's number and headed for his office, massaging his jaw in the process.
Urgent seemed to be the order of the day. He'd just received a call from Brot, who'd given pretty much the same message. So here he was, damming what was shaping up to be a small flood of emergencies when every part of him wanted to be home, with them. He'd made a vow he would never abandon his family again.
Jesse opened his office door to the sight of two figures hunched in front of his computer, quiet except for the occasional string of incomprehensible lingo passing between them. Neither looked up as he stepped into the office. A hand touched his shoulder and he turned inquisitive eyes to his future son-in-law.
"They're trying to open the last document from Ryan's file. Natalia thought Lily might be able to help." He gestured to the second girl. "Nat says she's a savant with computer code, and they're each other's support system."
Any admonitions that wanted to tumble out of Jesse's mouth about bringing another civilian into this mess vanished at the image in front of them.
Natalia had stopped, one hand gripping the side of Jesse's desk. The other spasmed over the keyboard. Jesse took one step toward his daughter. Only one step, because another hand had delicately wrapped around Natalia's. And after a few moments, the tremors ended.
Jesse indulged a small smile – and one deep breath - before facing Brot again. "Talk to me," he said.
And over the next several minutes, Brot did just that. Recounting his eventful day at the Miranda Center. By the time he stopped talking,' Jesse wanted to race home for an entirely different reason.
"You see why it's important we find concrete evidence on Espinoza now. He's more dangerous than we could've ever guessed. And we need protection on Logan and Jun immediately. Jesse? Jesse?"
He'd heard every word, but he couldn't speak. Couldn't offer his agreement. Something was paralyzing him. Something that, if he could see through the avalanche bearing down on him, he could admit had been the source of a 20-year-long paralysis. The truth: it had been his captor.
But maybe, just maybe, his next words could break that paralysis.
He thought about the messages, the threats. He thought about Rob Gardner and that damned diamond, and how they'd already almost taken everything that mattered away. Could he risk that again?
Then he thought of those kids, alone. Afraid. Needing somebody to take that stand.
Jesse pulled out his phone, prepared for the truth, and whatever verdict it might render.
When the door opened again, he was half-expecting a judge with a big black robe and a gavel to match.
A disheveled Jake and Amanda Martin greeted them instead.
####
The corridor cast long shadows. Too long. Too deep.
And way too dark.
It was well past operating hours at Espinoza, Inc., but a faint light spilled from a crevice at the end of the hallway.
Sarah had insisted they meet here.
When Bianca had contacted her former lover, her current blackmail victim, she wanted to apologize for getting her ex involved in something that was rapidly spiralling out of control. And she wanted to say she was sorry for so much more. When Sarah had answered the phone, however, only four of the vaguest words in the English language would suffice: "We need to talk."
They moved further into the bowels of the slumbering building: a not-so-great metaphor. With only the soft swooshes of Yasmin's footfalls against the carpeted floor, Bianca was beginning to reevaluate the 'greatness' of this whole idea.
The door was ajar. No need to knock, at least.
Bianca's fingers brushed against the cold wood. Ice-cold. As the door creaked open, another, more intense knocking had resumed in her chest.
Yasmin disappeared through the opening. Bianca followed, and nearly ran her escort - who was standing stock-still just inside the room - over in the process.
"Ya Allahi."
The whispered words boomed, echoed off of the walls. And when Bianca pushed past Yasmin, the words needed no translation.
"Oh my God," she confirmed.