Authors: Esther M. Soto
Tommy
I finally make it back to the scene without bothering to pick up food. That was the longest hour of my life. I blew through the town and once I hit the country roads, I drove like a madman. I’m worried because she’s not picking up her cell. It’s not like her. The possibility that her phone just up and died is slim to none. If she’s fine, I’ll drive back to town and get her something to eat.
I pull in behind the canine unit. Good, they’re finally here.
I jump out of my car after grabbing my gear and head straight to the local cop, Fulton, standing nearby. He briefs me on the current status: Nothing on the BOLO and so far the canine unit has turned up zip, running around in circles smack in the middle of the field. I ask him if he’s seen Harper and he seems hesitant, unsure, but I got no time for him right now.
I need to find Harper.
I walk around the perimeter to see if I can spot her. There are a few unmarked cars. The stolen car has been towed back to the lab. The wind picks up, blowing the tall grass every which way, like nature trying to erase whatever happened here last night. I scan the faces of everyone around. There must be twenty officers at the scene and no sign of Harper.
Still no answer on her cell, but I keep calling. At this point, I don’t even leave a message. I just hang up and redial.
“Officer!” I call over a cop working to keep the traffic back. What a mess. We had to close the road, so we got gawkers and press helicopters.
“Keep these people back. We don’t need them trampling all over the scene.”
I’m taking my frustration out on this poor guy, but I can feel myself start to freak. Not knowing where my partner is has my mind reeling with all kinds of nasty scenarios. I gather as many officers as I can, and take charge.
“Has anyone seen Special Agent Harper of the FBI?” I shout as the officers murmur to each other. They’re gathered around, waiting on something. How can she just disappear and no one notice?
Tommy, she didn’t disappear, there's a reasonable explanation; she probably went to find a bathroom.
My usual voice of reason is Lil, and that’s exactly what I’m trying to do—think like Lil. Keep it together. Think rationally. There has to be a logical explanation for her not being here, and not answering her phone.
Someone finally speaks up. “Agent Colton? We've been trying to locate your partner, but we haven’t had contact with her in a while. We were actually looking for her when you arrived.”
I turn around to find Officer Fulton. He might as well have punched me in the stomach. All the air expels from my lungs instantly.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Listen up! We need to find Agent Harper right now. Did anyone have eyes on her?” My voice echoes like a sonic boom along the small country road.
They’re all starting to gather around me. My composure is slipping, like this is just a horrible dream I can’t wake up from. Is this what parents of missing kids feel like? Maybe they try to appease themselves first, thinking Johnny just lost track of time, or went to a friend’s house without asking. Then the hours turn into days—
“Last I saw her, she was standing by the field about ten feet from here.” A local cop points at the same spot I stood with her, sipping coffee, hours ago.
“How long ago?” I ask, my voice full of terror and dread.
“I don’t know, just about the time you left.”
Jesus Christ, that was almost three hours ago. Please God.
Get a grip, Colton.
“Anyone else had eyes on her in the last hour?” I have the full attention of the entire search party, my voice is giving away my terror: loud, panicked, and desperate.
Every uniformed, county, and plain-clothes officer on the scene now has a new job. Searching for my partner. I’m so pissed at these assholes for not calling me, I just want to start kicking asses and taking names, but I need them to find Lil. No one speaks up. Panic reins all the way to my core.
“That’s it. We have a missing agent, people!” I yell as loud as I can because I want the whole state to hear me. I want to pull every fucking gawker within two hundred feet by the neck and shove them into this field to search for my partner.
A missing agent. The words feel like acid pouring down my throat. I’m about to lose my shit and the only person that can keep me from falling apart is the one who’s missing.
Pull it together, Tommy.
That’s what she would say. I need to keep it together if I want to find her. First order of business, call Teague and get as many agents down here as soon as possible. Finding Lil is Priority One.
After I get off the phone with Teague, I call Nelson and Ryan. They're on their way to the scene already. Teague's worried the suspect got a hold of her, but I can't think that way. No way did that scumbag get the jump on Harper, unless he wanted to get his ass kicked. I hold my phone and stare at it, willing it to ring. I'm immobile, standing there, looking at my phone.
Please ring. Please. Any minute now, my display will light up. “Lil calling.” Any minute.
Goddamn it! I don't think I can't take this. I start to pace, energy building, my need to find her becoming a living, breathing beast within me. I stop and face the fields. She's out there. I just know it. With a newfound purpose, I walk over to the first uniformed officer I see. I ask him to call me as soon as Teague arrives on the scene.
Heading straight into the field, I let the grass engulf me.
We drive down the dirt road to the north fields. I yell at Will to please hurry the entire time. He’s moving the damn antique as fast as he can, but for me it’s not fast enough. I’m going to miss it, whatever
it
is. I'm completely irrational, and pure instinct has taken over.
As soon as I recognize the area, my whole entire body becomes pure instinct. That strange energy builds within me, humming all the way to my bones, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It’s the same humming that I felt out on the field that morning. Feels like a lifetime ago. There are more important things at stake now, like my existence in this world. I feel the pull once more, like a giant magnet drawing me in. I have to go, I can’t help it.
As soon as we get close enough, I open my passenger door and bolt. Will slams on the brakes as I run full speed toward the humming that calls to me.
Will screams after me, but I don't listen. I can't listen. I run fast and with purpose, fueled by desperation. The tall grass is now a pale gray, colored by the moonlight. The entire field looks like a black and white movie, a blanket of ashes, devoid of color. The humming increases, the ringing in my ears becoming louder and louder, and heat builds inside me. I’m a bomb that will explode if I don’t reach my target. Running with all I have, I’m panting as I draw nearer, so close I can see the flat circle of grass up ahead, when huge arms encircle my waist and lift me from the ground.
“Let. Me. Go!” I kick and scream, fighting with everything I have, which is not much. I'm hysterical, an out of control mess of emotional turmoil.
Will swings me like a rag doll in the opposite direction, but I struggle to get loose. My shallow breathing becomes erratic from screaming obscenities at Will, using words he's probably never heard a woman utter. He doesn't say a word. Instead, he hoists me over his shoulder like some caveman and trots away from the circle toward his pickup truck.
He’s taking me
away
from my target. The closer we get to his truck and the farther away we get from my destination, the humming and ringing decrease, and I’m powerless to stop him. I’m drained of energy, and exhaustion starts to set in just like it did that morning.
The noise subsides, and despair engulfs me. As if I failed, as if I’m standing on a tarmac, alone, watching my plane take off without me. Disappointment, grief, and outrage hit me like a tidal wave.
That’s it. I totally and completely lose my shit, as Tommy would say.
“Fucking Christ!
Put me down
!” My throat is sore and raspy from overuse.
Upside down, I continue to scream, pounding at his back as hard as I can. His massive arms are wrapped around my knees and thighs like a vice grip. I keep struggling until we reach his truck. He moves around back and pulls the bed door open. In one fluid motion, Will tosses me off his shoulder and into the bed of his pickup truck. I land with a bounce on top of a bed of hay like a giant sack of bones.
“What the
fuck
?” My voice is hoarse and nearly gone.
My face is flushed from hanging upside down. I’m like some rabid dog. I’m spitting blood from having bitten my lip. He should be glad I don't have my gun on me. I'd shoot his ass right now.
“Enough!” he screams in my face, his arms anchored on each side of my body.
His reaction stuns me and I finally notice him. His shoulders are shaking, his chest heaving, and his features contorted in fury. If looks could kill, I’d be dead.
“Enough.” This time the words come out as a whisper, a caress instead of a punch. His brow is furrowed, framing his beautiful blue eyes, now two black spheres piercing right through me. His gaze dissolves my anger, his expression my undoing.
I stop fighting. I lie flat on my back on the prickly hay, my hands covering my face in frustration and defeat.
Will slowly climbs into the bed of the truck, approaching with care, trying not to spook me. He lies next to me, leaning on one elbow. He watches me intently and waits.
“Talk to me, please,” he pleads, his voice husky and so soothing, I can't resist.
At this point, what the hell do I have to lose? I've fucked myself enough for this lifetime. I take a deep breath and tell him about Sue and my grandmother.
قلب
Will is attentive and inquisitive, mulling over the information I've just shared, as we lie in the bed of his pickup under the moonlight.
“So you think that by stopping the attack you stopped the pregnancy?” I nod and he goes on. “Therefore wiping your grandmother from history?”
“And my mother and me,” I add as if he's missing the point.
“But you're here. If you were never born in the future, how did you get here?”
He's so logical and rational it grates my nerves. Speaking of which, I decide to confront him about Robert.
“How can you just sit by and let men treat women like that?” His head tilts in question. “You and Doc, everyone knows what he does and no one stops him?”
Then it dawns on him. He knows exactly what I’m referring to.
“Things are different here, Ileana, you wouldn’t understand—”
I’ve heard enough.
“Honestly, I don’t want to understand. Let me ask you this. What if it had been MJ or Mary in that alley instead of Sue Harper? Would you have done the same thing and looked the other way?” My words take root and his face transforms into rage and anger. “Exactly.”
“This is why you do what you do, isn’t it?” Will says, finally understanding my anger this afternoon.
“That’s just it, Will. They are all MJ, and Mary, and Carol. Every single one. They're someone’s mother, sister, wife. Someone’s son, husband. I protect those who cannot protect themselves. I can’t do that here. I need to go home. I don't belong here.”
I get up and slide off the truck bed, but he follows and stops me.
“Just wait a minute.” He places his hands on my waist to halt my progress.
“I need to go, please let me go,” I plead with him, staring up into his eyes. His anguished expression breaks my heart and he finally verbalizes what I see.
“I can't let you go. I'll do anything for you, anything you want, except that.” His hand moves to cradle my jaw and cheek. He slowly brings his lips down on mine, placing tender kisses at the corner of my mouth.
I close my eyes in agony. “Please don’t.” It’s all I can muster because this feels
wrong
.
As much as I’m attracted to Will, this isn’t where I belong. He’s a great guy, but I’m fully aware of the difference between love and lust. What I feel for Will is lust. Lust is impulse leading to chaos; love is different. Love is easy. It just
is
.
Love is knowing someone better than they know themselves. Love is accepting not just some parts of that person, but all the parts, good and bad. Love is wanting to make that person happy, comfort them when they grieve, make them laugh when they’re sad, and hold them when they cry. Love is never turning your back on them, and always having their back. I know because I have it.
Love is what I have with Tommy.
“There’s someone else, isn’t there?” Will asks, his somber voice filled with dread.
“Yes, I think there is,” I say, shocking myself with the statement. The self-revelation takes me aback as I wrap my arms around my torso. My overwhelming need to go home is to get to Tommy.
Because Tommy
is
my home.
قلب
After mulling over a few things, I decide to return to the farm with him. I thanked Will for stopping me tonight. I was about to do something very foolish. I cannot leave without my suspect. He’s the reason I am here and for a moment, I lost my head and forgot to do my job. I need to catch this guy and bring him back with me. It’s almost morning when we get back to the house. I’ve apologized to Will, but being the class act he is, he assures me there is nothing to apologize for. Will agrees to relinquish my clothing if I promise not to take off without his knowledge, and I don’t intend to.
When we get to the house, we say our goodnights and I head to MJ’s bedroom. As I take Mary’s dress off, I feel something trickling down my nose. I wipe my face and bring my hand up. There’s blood on it. Looking down at my dress, I see crimson drops on the bodice. Checking my reflection in the mirror, I see my nose is bleeding. I don’t remember hitting it and even if I did, it would have been bleeding then. Nosebleeds leave a mess; this is a small trickle. My ears are still ringing, but not as severely as they were out in the field, my muscles are weary, and exhaustion fills my tired limbs. I make a mental note to ask Doc about this and clean myself up.
Lying in bed for what’s left of the night, a thousand questions plague my thoughts. What if I did stop the rape? Jesus, what were the chances I’d land in the same damn town my mother’s family comes from? I knew Sophia was either born in Illinois or Ohio, where I grew up, but Christ.
I still exist, yet that doesn’t mean I’ll be able to return to 2013. After all, this is the past. Maybe I’m stuck here forever. Regardless, that won’t stop me from sending the suspect back. I just need to find him and drag him out into the field. Not hard, right? I chuckle. I’ve completely lost my marbles.
At the thought of losing my mind, I think of all those I’ve left behind: Chris, Mrs. Nuncio, Tommy.
Colton. I wonder what is going through his head this very moment. Is he looking for me? What does he think happened to me? He knows I would never leave him willingly, and our conversation that night during the stakeout comes to mind. He asked me what the odds were of us meeting, landing in the same branch, specialty, unit, and finally platoon.
After finishing my specialty AIT training, I was assigned a new unit and platoon to lead before being deployed to Afghanistan. Sgt. Colton was part of that platoon. I’ll never forget the first time I laid eyes on him. He was a sight to behold with his short crew cut and those ACUs. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. How was I supposed to order this beautiful specimen of a man around without making a blubbering idiot out of myself, especially during PT?
Sweet baby Jesus, I think my face turned redder than a tomato the first time I caught sight of his torso. Have mercy. Beautiful arms, light dusting of hair on his chest, perfect six-pack, a ‘V’ shape between his hips pointing down to his...
wow
. Luckily for me, Sgt. Colton was not only a good soldier, but utterly professional. If he saw my face turn twenty shades of red, he didn’t acknowledge it or take advantage of it. To this day, I still get flustered when that shirt comes off, and if he knows it, he doesn’t let it show.
During our first tour in Afghanistan, each of us was allowed two weeks leave to go home. Colton and I ended up assigned the same two weeks halfway into our deployment. It wasn't until we arrived at the base that we realized we were the only two members of our group staying on-post in temporary living quarters. Everyone else had gone home to their families. That was when Tommy and I discovered we had a lot in common, such as having no family or home to go to. Toward the end of the first week, we ran into each other again, off post. After one too many drinks at a local bar, he offered to escort me to my room where we ended up almost...well, almost.
I've known Tommy for close to eight years. The man has never turned down a woman. Not one.
Except me.
That night he turned
me
down.
Ever since deciding to take control of my life, everything I’ve done has been carefully planned. But that night with Tommy, I stopped thinking and started acting—consequences be damned.
I’ve never done that before, and never since. I knew having sex with him was a clear violation of military policy; fraternizing with enlisted personnel is strictly prohibited. Everything I had worked for would be gone. My military career would be finished.
And I didn't care.
Once we walked into my room that night, we were both gone. It was a feeding frenzy, like we’d been waiting for that moment since we first laid eyes on each other. I’ve never wanted a man in such a primal way as I wanted him that night, and I let my feelings take over. In a heartbeat, our tops were gone, nothing but the chiming of dog tags as our bodies pressed together, only my lace bra in the way. His mouth consumed mine as he grabbed my ass, hoisting me up, and I clamped my legs around his hips.
Before I knew it, we were in bed, him on top of me heading south, and I was in heaven. It was pure bliss. For the first time ever, I was experiencing feelings I’d only heard about. It was the one time I ever completely gave up control, gave myself, leaving me at the mercy of someone else.
That’s something I haven’t confided to anyone, not even Tommy. Ever since that bastard tried that night, I’ve refused to be at the mercy of anyone, but not Tommy. He’s different, and I’m different with him.
With him, it felt right. Then again, when it comes to Tommy, everything feels right.
As I lay in bed, basking in pleasure, Tommy suddenly stopped. He got up abruptly, mumbled an apology, and left my room before I had a chance to blink. I took a chance and put myself out there, and I got rejected. It was hands down the most humiliating moment of my life.