Page 2 of Targeted By Desire

The charisma in his smile slowly vanished as he followed my gaze. “Yeah. Big day tomorrow.”

“It’ll be fine. You’ll be on the stand no longer than an hour, and then you’ll be shipped off to start your new life.”

Nodding, he fiddled with his fingers. “Do you, um…do you mind staying…overnight?”

I frowned as the trembles in his shoulders returned. Setting a hand on one to cease his movement, I replied, “Of course not. I’ll be right here. If you need anything, all you need to do is holler.”

He offered me half of a smile. “Thank you, Agent Nichols. You're the kindest agent I’ve met.”

I patted his shoulder. “Go. Lay down. Turn on some lofi beats or ocean wave sounds to help you sleep. We’ll need you to be competent and alert tomorrow.”

He rose from his seat and saluted me. “Yes, ma’am.”

I watched him walk off towards the bedroom. Hopefully he listened to my directions and tried to get a good night’s sleep. Our department needed his testimony to shut the lid on this case. I didn’t contribute much to this one, but a lot of people I knew well in the unit did. With all the horror they uncovered while investigating, they deserved to see justice served.

An uncomfortable rumble rippled through my stomach alongside the roll of thunder outside, reminding me I haven’t gotten a chance to eat a proper dinner.

I pushed myself up from the couch and strolled into the kitchen. I knew the fridge was stocked for Lorenzo’s sake. I just prayed there was something in there I liked.

I opened the door and saw some pasta-based meal preps and pre-made salads. There were also some water bottles and soda cans sitting on the shelves. Surprisingly, my options were looking pretty good. I could heat up some pasta, sip on a Pepsi and read for a few hours until one of my colleagues came by for a check-in. The pitter patter of the rain on the windows mixed with the heat of the fireplace and soft cushions of the couch set a cozy ambiance. If I wasn’t on the clock, it’d be a perfect evening.

As I was reaching inside to grab one of the bowls of pasta, another roar of thunder crashed through the air. This time, it was accompanied by a sudden cloak of darkness.

“Shit,” I muttered. I didn’t think it was raining that bad outside. But, the cabin was an older model and might not be able to withstand the bad weather as well as we thought.

“Agent Nichols!” Lorenzo’s voice echoed from the bedroom.

“It’s alright!” I yelled back. Reluctantly, I closed the fridge and opened the drawers to search for matches. “The storm blew out the electricity! I’ll contact the command base and have them send someone out! I’m in the kitchen if you want to wait with me!”

While I waited for a response, I dug my phone out of my back pocket and shined a light on the inside of the drawers. I quickly rustled through the contents and found a small pack of matches. There were some candles in the dining room. They were initially meant for decor, but they’ll do.

My gut twisted when I didn’t hear Lorenzo. I expected the man to come racing out the bedroom and hop on my hip like a frightened child. But, the hallway beside me was empty and quiet.

“Lorenzo!” I called. “I’m in the kitchen! Follow my voice and you’ll find me!”

Some creaks on the floorboards replied.

An uneasy feeling swished through my stomach again at the absence of Lorenzo’s voice. Setting down the matches, I reached for my gun, hidden in the back of my waistband. I kept my hand around the handle as I crept out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the bedroom. I used the flashlight on my phone to guide me.

Moving closer, I heard more rustling on the floorboards in the bedroom.

“Lorenzo!” I yelled. “I’m coming to you!”

The bedroom door was cracked open. I grabbed the handle and pushed the door. “Lorenzo, are you-” My words were cut short as I registered the sight in front of me.

Lorenzo was pinned on the bed by a figure masked in darkness, one hand over his mouth and a gun to the side of his head. He was writhing and squirming under the figure, desperate to get out from beneath it.

Instantly, I pulled my gun out from my waistband. “FBI, don’t-”

Before I could finish my sentence, the figure moved the gun from Lorenzo’s head and fired it at me.

I quickly moved to the side and took cover on the other side of the doorway. I watched as the bullets whipped through the wood. “Mayday, mayday!” I yelled as I tapped on the communication device in my ear. “We are under attack! I repeat, we are under attack.”

“Copy,” one of the other agents on perimeter duty replied. “Hang tight. We’re on our way.”

Silence replaced the loud shots as the gunfire momentarily ceased. Taking a chance to make my move, I uncovered myself from my makeshift shield and stood back in the doorway. I aimed my gun in the direction where the intruder stood over Lorenzo, determined to injure them before they could hurt him.

My bullets ripped into their arms and abdomen, but they didn’t even flinch.