Ragged✔|18+

ONE

REYNA

Many people have a list of their fuck-ups. Hell, everyone does. My number one fuck-up: Hacking the system of the CIA.

Everything had been planned on but then something went wrong and I discovered just how unsmart I am.

Right now I'm sitting on the lower bunk bed of my mini cell. Well, actually our mini cell but my cellmate hardly ever talks at all so I assume it's my cell.

One of the wardens told me I was being released today but I call that bullshit. Everyone here has always been told the same thing but no one in particular has ever got out, especially us lowlifes. Mostly when a rich kid entered juvie, she always got out by the end of the second week. Reason: Daddy or Mommy pulled some strings high above the law. Guess that's the perk of being rich: You're always above the law.

As for me, I just hope that the sperm donor who calls himself my father, pulls the strings for me. I don't know what's worse; me actually wishing the prick bails me out or me actually calling and asking for his help.

Either way, I have to get out of this place and all of it depends on him.

"Hey punk." One of the wardens hollers at me. "You've got a visitor."

I snap out of my thoughts. "Who?"

She rolls her eyes and says, "I don't fucking know. Now get your ass up. You've only got thirty minutes. "

Talk about having a suckish day. I drag my feet towards the door and soon I'm being escorted to my 'visitor'.

It's my fucking father. "Of course," I mutter under my breath.

I sit down opposite him and look at him squarely in the eye. He doesn't remove his sunglasses which prevents me to actually know what he's thinking right now.

"Reyna," he breaks the silence.

"Dad," I bite out.

"How've you been?"

"I'm in freaking juvie. How do you think I've been?"

"Bad," he says tersely.

"No shit," I snap back.

"I got your message," he says, his voice flat as fuck.

"Sure you did," I reply indifferently. I know what's coming next. A long reprimanding from him about the stupidity of my hacking stunt.

And reprimand he does. I let him rant on and on, feigning interest in it. Until he steps on the wrong fucking wire.

"...having to be debriefed in Langley because my daughter hacked into the state's system just because she can't keep her paranoia in check."

"Paranoia?" I almost shout. "The only way I was ever going to get some fucking information on the leading suspect was if I hacked the database."

"There are other ways of getting that information, Reyna. Do you know the repercussions of hacking into the DoD?"

Of course I know the repercussions. The NCSD agent read them perfectly clear to me.

"Then tell me dad, you got a lead on who murdered my mom?"

He can't tell me. I know that. He's not allowed to, being a Chief operating officer of the CIA and all that.

"That's classified."

I snort. "Of fucking course. Everything is always classified."

Classified means everything's been investigated and probably even solved. How? I don't freaking know. One thing I know is that he'll never tell me. No matter what. And we'll keep on cycling back to the same, same situation. Me behind bars, sitting and facing him as he reprimands me. Over and over again.