Page 86 of Targeted By Desire

“It’s alright,” I assured her. “If you want a life with him. A normal one.”

She shook her wrist out of my hand. He works for a cartel. Our lives would never be normal.

“And would you rather have it any other way?”

No, I guess not. She paused for a moment, another thought passing through her eyes. Have you taken care of your problem yet?

“No,” I admitted. “I tried, but…”

Maria tilted her head, her brows pinching in disbelief. Don’t tell me she’s still alive.

“Fine. I’ll tell you I fucked her instead.”

“Lord,” she mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose. Do you have a death wish?

I opened my mouth to answer when the loud breaking news signal stole my attention. I looked over Maria’s shoulder at the screen. On it, a brunette stood with a microphone in front of a smoking car.

“This just in,” she said. “There has been a terrible explosion here on Chesapeake Road. A black SUV was found here, completely destroyed. Witnesses have confirmed there was someone inside the car when this explosion occurred."

The camera cut to an older white man with salt and pepper hair and solemn eyes. “My goddaughter, she was just getting some fresh air, driving off some stress when this happened.”

My heart dropped into my stomach as a photo of the woman I’ve become all too familiar with appeared on the screen.

“Wait, is that…” Maria whispered.

I barely heard her over the anchor’s voice. “Special Agent Simone Nichols was driving the car. Authorities have confirmed she did not survive the crash.”

“What?” The thought slipped out.

The other man appeared again. “The department believes this was a targeted act as she was in the midst of pursuing a dangerous criminal. We will not rest until that person is behind bars. Simone will get the justice she deserves.”

Maria tapped my shoulder, stealing my attention. But I thought you didn’t kill her, she signed.

“I didn’t,” I confirmed through gritted teeth. “But I’m going to find whoever did.”

THE AGENT

I came out of unconsciousness like someone coming up for air after being held underwater. My eyes popped open, and I greedily inhaled fresh air.

Above me, the stars blurred into each other like scratches in the dark sky. Soft soil sifted underneath my hands, and the stench of dirt filled my nostrils.

Glancing around, I tried to remember how I’d fallen into this ditch.

I remembered the grenade. Scraping my arms as I wiggled through the broken window. The explosion barely seconds after freeing myself from the vehicle. The wind as the blast blew me backwards.

Somewhere between the last moments of consciousness, I remember my vision spinning and my body screaming as it hit rough terrain over and over.

I must’ve fallen over a nearby hill and rolled into this shallow grave.

My limbs ached as I pushed myself up. In this position, I could see the steep hill I’d fallen down - and the distance in which my body kept rolling. I was far from the scene of the explosion - farther than they’d look at least.

My thigh screamed as I tried to bend my legs, preparing to stand.

When I looked down, I noticed my leg was covered in blood. A thick, long piece of shrapnel pierced through the side, stuck inches deep into my flesh.

“Shit,” I groaned. I shrugged off my jacket and twisted it into a makeshift tourniquet. I gritted my teeth as I tied it around my leg, each knot adding yet another layer of pain.

The world was eerily silent when I glanced around again. No chatter. No sirens. No helicopters.