Darkly-Episode #6

FBI & Fantasy

Want to start at the beginning? You can find the 1st episode and all episodes HERE.

If you’re ready for the next installment, here’s a quick recap: Kinley’s intel helped the Omega Task Force save victim #13 from the serial killer, but the boss, Wilkes, doesn’t like how Kinley keeps making him look incompetent and kicks her off the team. Special Agent Gil Swan steps in and hires Kinley for a secret FBI interrogation facility—good news? We’ll see!

Now… onto Darkly Episode #6.

I’m an idiot.

Silently, I repeated the sentence over and over again. While it might not have been entirely accurate, it fed a nagging, seething, heart-wrenching pang near my black heart.

Sitting in Agent Gil Graham’s car, racing along the expressway, I felt like I’d been in a car accident. Of course, those never happened anymore.

Smart vehicles removed driver errors and saved lives. It was considered bad taste to even mention the automobile’s deadly history. All that was so 2029. Cars only needed a destination, and all the occupants could sit back and relax.

If only… relaxing was the last thing I’d be able to call upon.

You decide how you react. I could hear my Yogi’s lesson. It was a required class at University—pretty useless if you ask me.

Glancing over at Gil, I considered nudging him, waking him up. He’d offered to talk but said we had to arrive at the facility ready to work, so getting some sleep made sense.

The urgency Gil associated with my new job—and the secrecy cloaking the interrogation facility—confused me. He’d tried to explain, but I was not in the right frame of mind to listen. What registered was the standard stuff: the complex had two teams, we’d live on-site part of the time and process the bad guys. Blah, blah, blah. I didn’t care—whatever he wanted.

Instead, my anger ran wild, thoughts focusing on how FBI agents were a bunch of bookworms with no investigative skills. No street smarts. They relied on locals and breaks. Luck, for lack of a better word. You could trace it back to 2025 when a flood of senior agents retired. Brass lowered standards to rush in new recruits. It explained an agent like Wilkes.

The smart car’s dash flashed a warning. My biometrics were unhealthy. I breathed deeply a few times, and the dashboard warning stopped, but I kept replaying the argument with Wilkes. The tone of his voice, the underlying insults, the total lack of acknowledging the good I’d done… well, it ate at me until I couldn’t take it any longer.

“Pull over!” I ordered the smart car.

The command startled Gil, waking him up. The vehicle exited the freeway and stopped at the bottom of the ramp. It was a lonely spot since it was a connection point to rural roads without any services.

As soon as the car stopped moving, I got out. The setting sun spilled soft rays across the area, but its golden light was little comfort. I’d sabotaged my career, and nothing would ease that pain, even blaming Wilkes because no matter what he’d done, I’d put myself in a situation to fail.

I took several steps away from the car and screamed at the tree line—tall, majestic pines. They took it like pros, but a black crow flew away in protest. The wind caressed leaves that were already turning yellow and red, preparing for autumn’s glory.

I’m such an ass, I thought.

Gil came up behind me, gently grasped my shoulders, and pulled me to his chest. We stood there for several moments, my back against him. His breath was a calming presence against my hair. He was about a foot taller.

“I wondered when you’d break,” he whispered. “The car’s off. It won’t record anything. You can let it out here.”

In a rush, I turned to him and clung to his lapels. What we must have looked like: two suits sharing a nervous breakdown at the side of the road. Good thing the exit ramp dipped below the motorway.

“Granted,” Gil whispered, “your first day on the job was worse than most, but you saved a life.”

“Shut up.”

“What?”

“I can’t talk about it.” I looked up at him, ready to make one more mistake on this horrendous day of mistakes.

“What do you want to do?”

I couldn’t say it, so I let my hands slide up his chest, around the back of his neck, raised to my tiptoes, and melted into his lips. He responded by picking me off my feet and pulling me as close as possible.

If I’d hoped he’d reject my advances—to save me from myself—that thought vanished. Nothing could stop us now. Lips and tongues explored each other. Scorching heat. I pulled at his tie until it loosened and lowered my kisses to his neck, but he spun me around into the side of the car, protecting me from a real collision. His hands slid around my hips, possessive.

“Right here, right now,” I said, somewhat out of breath.

His determination matched mine. “Be gentle,” he teased.

“You be gentle.” I grabbed his lower lip with my teeth, but there was no bite in it, just play. He didn’t exactly growl, but Gil touched his forehead to mine and let one of his hands explore the waistband of my slacks, dipping down to touch flesh as he claimed my lips again.

A car horn blared as it whizzed past from above us. I guessed we weren’t entirely out of sight, and we’d put on a show for at least one observant traveler.

Gil’s head snapped up. “All we need is for someone to film us and post it.”

“Damn the Internet.”

“Who invented it anyway?”

I knew the answer, but he wasn’t really asking. I put my hands on his chest. With a little push, we were a respectable distance apart. Arm’s length. My arms. With my hands still on his chest. He leaned into them and smiled.

Gil’s eyes held a hint of regret, but he took a step back, just out of my reach. Pity because he’d sparked a flame in all my nerve endings.

“Thanks for… everything,” I said, half a mind to throw myself at him again.

Being sensible was difficult, especially when presented with Mr. Perfect. And Gil was nearly perfect, but that was a problem itself. No one ever met my standards. Something about Gil made me think he could. Sure, he was gorgeous and convenient, but it wouldn’t end well. Believe me. I’d tried on guys like him before. It never worked, but they always made you think it would.

The fact that Gil had backed me with Wilkes… that kind of loyalty really tugged me into doing something stupid and ignoring what I knew deep in my soul. What did I know? Gil would want a commitment. And I wanted? Something else. I liked to say I’d know it when I saw it, but that was an old lie. I didn’t want anyone. They would only let me down.

I felt my blood pressure move farther away from lust and closer to sanity. “Why did you get out of the car?” I asked, raising my hand to touch my lips. What kind of kiss made lips tingle?

He tried to answer but couldn’t come up with a good excuse. The sympathetic look in his eyes actually said it all. He’d wanted to comfort me, proving my point. The last thing I needed was a protector, but I’d already let him take that role. He’d never stop. I’d ruined him.

Suddenly, comfort was a four-letter word and better than an ice plunge. My instincts were right. I reminded myself that I didn’t really know Gil. Sure, I’d been open to giving him a go, but that was back in Washington. Lots of guys, lots of opportunities to hop around and keep it neutral, not trigger anyone’s savior instincts or delusions of—horrors of horrors—a relationship. If I’d already sprung that trap, I needed to tread lightly. The last thing I wanted to do was lock in my new, handsome boss as a permanent mistake, especially since we were part of a three-person team. One of only two. I’d gone from safety in numbers to an impossible ratio.

The intensity of his blue eyes made my heart race, though, and I had to squash that fast. He oozed that intangible It-factor that pulled heartstrings. Jeez. I tried to think of anything that would stop us from pursuing any kind of endless entanglement.

Gil considered me, perhaps trying to read my thoughts. “We won’t be missed until tomorrow. If you want, we have tonight, and then it will be all business.”

I knew that line. I’d used that line!

“You know,” I said, falling back on the nightmare of my day, “career-wise, I don’t want to totally blow it with you.”

“Hmm,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You haven’t blown anything yet.” The chuckle—and implication—in his voice was unmistakable.

“Bad choice of words.”

“Kinley, I’m not about to destroy your career. You’re kinda brilliant, in a very annoying way. If given time, you’ll be an excellent FBI analyst.” He glanced at the car, probably thinking about overriding its recorded route data should anyone check up on us if we detoured to a motel. “We’ll just forget anything happened. I’m not officially your boss yet, so no harm done. It can end here.”

Could it? In my experience, sexual tension only got more intense after a groping session. He had to think I wanted him. Heck, who wouldn’t want him? And it wasn’t because I was a total mess and would ultimately cause any relationship to crash and burn. No. Not that at all. It was simple. The last thing I needed was a Forever Guy. So, I politely smiled and agreed to end it.

“No harm, no foul.” I cringed, realizing I’d just made the most common baseball reference.

We straightened our clothes and got back into the car without another word. It might have been the best decision I made that day because going to work for Gil at the secret, off-grid FBI interrogation facility turned out to be the worst—and that’s saying something after my shit day.