Perpetual Devotion (Book 4 in the Original BOC Series) ✔

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"Monroe, my answer is the same as it was thirty minutes ago when you barged in here... No."

The irritated FBI agent, paced back and forth with his hands hitched onto his waist. His red face signifying his growing outrage.

Shooting glares in the Sergeant's direction, the agent scoffed shaking his head as he muttered under his breath. Though he continued to practically dig a trench in Nathan's office with his pacing, Monroe raised a thick eyebrow and lifted a hand off his waist, pointing an enraged-shaking finger at the green eyed man.

"You---Argh! You can't do that, Henry! You have no authority over this matter!"

He took a pause from his pacing to lean forward onto Nathan's desk with the same finger he'd used to point at the sergeant to point to his own chest.

"I was attacked! And as far as the situation goes, Carter was forced to overturn the case to me when the Superior informed him of my partner and I's necessity to question him!"

With wide eyes, nostrils flaring, and chest heavily breathing, Monroe continued to make his case that Max Ivers was to be taken to Washington where he'd be dealt with appropriately for his defiance, the murders of the Underground, and attempted murder against, and of, Federal agents.

"He's nothing! He's a foreigner for fuck's sake! His capabilities have placed him at the fuckin' top of our United States watch list! Does that mean nothing to you?!" the agent shouted.

He had picked up his pacing again, but still kept his attention towards Nathan sitting calmly in his office chair. The man wore a droll expression, his eyes solely watching the FBI agent walking from one side of his desk to the other.

Monroe went on to accuse Nathan of being affiliated with Max Ivers, and the possibility of this would cost the Sergeant his job. The FBI agent claimed Monroe outranked him and whether the "famous city's hero" liked it or not, the agent had documentation which was childishly slammed onto the desk in front of Nathan that was signed by Monroe's superior.

It had stated that Nathan was to hand over Max--- to Monroe of all people.

The Sergeant lowered a brow, his eyes lifting up from the paperwork shoved in front of him and locked them on Monroe with his jaw clenched tightly. He narrowed his eyes, assessing how well the Federal Agent mastered in agitating those he harrassed in order to get a reaction out of them. One that usually let the agent off scot-free while the finger is pointed at the man's bullied victim.

Monroe sneered, leaning over the desk with narrowed eyes. He spoke with a low, antagonizing tone that had Nathan's jaw popping.

The agent shook his head, "Hmph! What is it, Henry, hm? What is it about that boy you feel so fuckin' obligated to protect him? Why were you the one person Carter had to call in for that fuckin' kid to calm his shit?!"

After adding that if Nathan was affiliated with Max, prior to this time around, the Sergeant would be receiving charges against him in assisting a wanted felon. The agent grinned, shaking his head as he bent closer. He did note Nathan fists clenching on the desk, but Monroe knew Nathan Henry was too professional to hit him. The man's pride wouldn't allow him to stoop so low.

To rile up the Sergeant more---since Nathan seemed so fond of the blonde murderer---Monroe threatened, "That boy is a dead man, Henry. With all the fuckin' shit he's committed overseas and the murders here---including my partner let me remind you!---Ivers has no hope of ever getting off Death Row once the court sentences him."

Monroe nodded, catching the flash of animosity in Nathan's eyes, and grinned a smug, "You know it's true. The judge won't even give him a chance to speak. Ivers won't be able to stand the pressure. He's going to fuckin' crack! Just like he did in that interrogation room. They will---"