Illusive | Tim Bradford

ten •

I sat down on the couch, Tim seated beside me. It had come to the time where he had to know. I trusted him enough as well.

I looked at him, my eyes weary but I was determined to tell him the truth. I took a deep breath, mentally recounting the events before I begin.

"It was a really dark night," I begin, realising those details were not of importance. "I'd just finished my shift, working a pretty crappy case. I was heading home. I had my guard down for a few minutes, not thinking much of my surroundings." I hesitated for a second.

"I thought it was just another night. But as I reached my car, I felt a chill crawl up my spine. Like I was being watched." I admitted.

Tim nodded, but didn't speak. He was silently encouraging me to continue when I felt ready.

"As I reached for my car door, someone grabbed me from behind." I continued. "I tried to scream. But a gloved hand covered my mouth. I remember being dragged into a van. Then everything went black." I explained.

I paused once again, steadying my breathing. I was relieving the terror of that moment all over again.

"I woke up in a small damp room." I said, my voice quivering. "I was bound and gagged. Unable to move." I admitted, getting uncomfortable chills just at the thought.

"The kidnapped was masked. His voice was distorted. They demanded attention from the FBI. They threatened to kill me if the FBI didn't listen to them." I explained.

I could see Tim's clenched fists. Evident anger burning into his eyes as he listened to the things I'd endured.

"For days, I was kept in that room." I continued, my voice gaining strength. "I didn't think I'd ever see the light of day again. But I refused to give up. I looked for any opportunity to escape." I admitted.

"Finally, one night. I managed to free my hands." I told him, a flicker of triumph meeting my eyes. "I waited until the kidnapper was asleep, then I made my move. It was a risk, but I needed that chance. I found my kidnappers phone, I dialled 911, telling them who I was and all that stuff." I explained briefly.

"Within 20 minutes the place was swarming with cops, but he escaped. I'd been too afraid to try to restrain him." I admitted, Tim placing his hand on my shoulder to comfort me.

I hesitated for another moment, eyes flickering with a mix of vulnerability and determination. Slowly, I unbuttoned my shirts collar. It revealed a series of jagged scars across my neck and shoulder.

Each scar told a story of pain, resilience and survival. Tim's gaze softened as he took in the sight, realising entirely the immense strength it would of taken for me to share this with him.

"These scars," I spoke, voice steady but filled with emotion, "they caused this. It's a constant reminder." I admitted.

I watched as Tim swallowed hard, his admiration growing. "I can't imagine how difficult it must be." He spoke, voice low with empathy. "I want you to know, Maddy, whatever you need, whenever you need it, I'm here." He reassured.

Before I could react to his words, a look of determination filled Tim's features, "I'll make sure he's brought to justice. I promise you." Tim promised.

His words resonated deep within me, a balm to the wounds I had carried for so long. Tim's unwavering support, his promise to bring my kidnapper to justice, felt like a lifeline in the midst of my lingering trauma. For the first time, I felt seen and understood in a way that went beyond the surface.

"Thank you, Tim," I said, my voice catching with gratitude. "I never told anyone about this. I didn't want anyone to treat me differently, but I trust you. I needed you to know."

Tim gave me a reassuring smile, his eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and determination. "You're incredibly strong, Maddy. Sharing this with me doesn't change how I see you. If anything, it only makes me admire your strength even more."

His words felt like a warm embrace, comforting and empowering. In that moment, I realized that I wasn't alone in my struggle anymore. Tim was by my side, ready to face the darkness with me.

As we sat there, shoulder to shoulder, a newfound sense of camaraderie settled between us. The weight of my past still lingered, but it felt lighter, as if I had shared the burden with someone who genuinely cared.

Days turned into weeks, and Tim and I continued to work together, not just as partners but as friends who had shared a profound moment of vulnerability. The station buzzed with its usual activity, but there was a subtle shift in the air - a sense of unity and understanding that hadn't been there before.

With Tim's unwavering support, I found the strength to confront my fears.

The night air was cool against my skin as Bradford and I stepped out of the police station, our footsteps echoing in the empty parking lot. The recent conversation about my kidnapping still lingered in the back of my mind, but our banter managed to pull me back into the present moment.

"So, Tim. I think it's time you get a nickname. Any suggestions?" I ask, attempting to lighten the mood.

Bradford raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Oh, I've got one. How about 'Captain No-Nonsense'? It suits you, don't you think?" He asks.

I couldn't help but smirk at his suggestion. " 'Captain No-Nonsense,' huh? Well, I prefer something with a bit more flair, like 'Officer Ice.' You know, cool under pressure."

Bradford snorted, clearly skeptical. "Ice? I don't know, Hale. Sounds a bit... chilly, don't you think?"

I shot him a mock glare. "Well, it's better than 'Captain No-Fun,' which is what everyone else definitely calls you behind your back."

His laughter filled the night air, momentarily breaking the seriousness that often surrounded us. "Touché, Hale. You've got a sharp wit. I'll give you that."

As we continued our patrol, our banter continued, a light-hearted reprieve from the gravity of our duties. Each joke and tease reinforced the camaraderie we shared, reminding me that even in the face of darkness, there was room for laughter.

"So, Officer No-Fun," I said, playfully teasing him, "What's the plan for tonight? Any hot leads, or just another night of patrolling the quiet streets of LA?"

Bradford glanced at me, his eyes reflecting determination. "You never know, Hale. Crime has a way of popping up when you least expect it. But rest assured, we'll be ready."

I nodded, a determined smile on my face. "Ready and waiting, Officer No-Fun."