17 year old Brooke Eastwood is sent to live with her father for the last year of high school after her mother up and left with her new boyfriend. One day during summer break, her best friend, Natasha, insists that they go to the lake to cool off. Wh...
Brooke and James were both up, bright and early, the next morning as they prepared to dish out all of the secrets they'd been hiding for the last few months.
Brooke and James both dressed in presentable clothing, wanting to have a good impression on the people they were going to speak with today.
James was dressed in a white button down shirt and black trousers with a black suit jacket and a pair of black Gucci loafers. The collar of his shirt was unbuttoned down to his collarbone and his hair was slicked back as per usual.
Brooke was dressed in a blush-colored blouse with a bow at the neckline. She paired it with a black pencil skirt and a pair of blush open-toed pumps. Her hair was curled and she wore very little makeup but enough to make her look put together.
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It was almost seven thirty when Brooke and James were both ready to leave. Brooke couldn't help but feel nervous but it seemed as though James was completely fine. He never was the nervous type but for something as serious as this, you would think that his nerves would be somewhat frantic.
The entire car ride was silent until they arrived at the FBI's headquarters and that's when things started to seem more surreal.
Brooke got out of the car, James following her, grabbing her hand and gently squeezing it before giving her a reassuring smile.
When they got inside, they had to show their I.D. and when they did, they were escorted by two men.
The entire time, Brooke felt like she was going to be sick. She glanced down at her hand in James' and saw the ring. It gave her hope that maybe they would get through this and that, in a couple years, they would be married and creating a family together but at the moment, that seemed impossible.
When they stopped, the two men turned around and looked at them.
"Before you enter this room, we'll have to search you." The taller of the two stated.
Brooke and James knew they couldn't protest so they allowed them to search them. As the men pat down both of them, James could see the other guy getting handsy with Brooke.
"Hey! Watch it!" James snapped. Both of the guys stopped and flashed a badge in front of a automated lock. After a short beep, both of the men walked in, gesturing for Brooke and James to follow.
When they got inside, Brooke saw several agents sitting at a table, a board with multiple photos of Brooke, James and Scott, all compiled together.
"I'm Director Thomas Statham. I'm glad you could make it today." A guy in his mid-fifties stated. He wore a regular black and white suit and had dark hair with grey coming in.
James shook his hand firmly before he held out his hand for Brooke, which she reluctantly shook.
"So would you mind explaining why we are here?" James asked abruptly.
Thomas gestured for them to sit at the table and they did, Brooke still holding tightly onto James' hand.
"Do you know who Scott Evans is?" Thomas asked. Brooke glanced over at James just as he glanced over at her.
"Um yes. He's my ex boyfriend." Brooke muttered.
Thomas nodded his head slowly before speaking again.
"And when was the last time you saw him?"
Brooke's heart rate only got quicker as each and every word came out of Thomas's mouth.
Brooke looked over at James for reassurance but he only stared ahead at Thomas.
Thomas sighed before folding his hands on the table.
"There's no need for you to keep things from us. As far as you're concerned, there are no impending charges against you. Yet. So why don't you start by telling us why you visited Russia 7 months ago."
"Scott left me. He told me he didn't want to be with me anymore and left. I never saw him again until I found out about his residence in Russia. James accompanied me there and we met up with Scott. I soon found out that he was with another woman, a Russian spy, and she'd recruited Scott to help her steal confidential information from the U.S. government. I begged Scott to come back but he refused. Then I left. I haven't seen nor talked to him since."
Thomas seemed intrigued with Brooke's story as he listened.
"And how did you find out about Scott staying in Russia?" Thomas questioned. Brooke sighed and glanced down at her hands.
"I hired them. Scott was my best friend and I wanted him back as well, so I hired some private investigators to find Scott." James spoke up. Brooke stared at him like he was crazy but he never made eye contact with her.
Thomas let out a low chuckle before staring down James.
"And then you fell in love with his girlfriend."
James glared at Thomas as he gave him a smug smile.
"I doubt that's really any of our concern." James snapped.
Thomas held up his hands in surrender before chuckling once more.
"I'm just trying to figure out how you two are involved in this. I can't seem to put the pieces together but I'm fairly certain that the missing answers will come from you," Thomas confessed as he turned his attention towards Brooke.
"It seems as though you've gotten yourself into a mess with these boys." He added once more. Brooke glared at him from standing from her seat.
"I think we're done here!" Brooke hissed before turning around, pulling James along with her, towards the door.
"Don't you want to see your other boyfriend? Or are you just currently fascinated with this one?" Thomas stated from behind her. Brooke froze in her spot before slowly turning around to face him.
He had a smirk plastered on his face as Brooke raised an eyebrow at his remark.
"What the hell did you just say?"
Thomas faked a surprised expression on his face before covering his mouth in shock.
"Oh! Did I forget to mention! Scott is here. He's actually in another room down the hall if you'd like to see him."
Brooke thought about it for a moment. Was he lying? Thomas seemed to be a snake but what would he get out of lying to her about Scott being here? She wasn't going to tell him anything else!
Brooke stared right into Thomas's eyes before replying in a monotone voice.
