salvation ; 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 , 𝟐

003. in deep shit

"WE'RE GOING FOR a ride?" My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What is that, some weird CIA code for you're taking me to a cold cell that's meant to hold serial killers?" 

Ross didn't miss a moment. "Yes, that's exactly what it means." He waited for me to roll my eyes before continuing. "There are more questions for you to answer, Elda. But it can't be done in a small town police station." He ducked his head outside to hiss a few more sharp words to the officer and then stepped back as the door swung open. He jerked his head to the doorway, signaling for me to walk out of the room. 

Standing up, I blinked furiously for a few seconds as my vision clouded into black from the self-induced hangover that would begin to form within the next few hours. "I'm a piece of shit," I grumbled as I stalked out of the room. "I can't even hold my alcohol. When did that happen?"

The CIA operative simply followed me out of the room and ushered me back into the parking lot, nodding at Officer Turner, whose lips tightened as he saw me stumble past. "Good luck, sir," he said to Ross. "I hope you find him."

Despite the alcohol in my body, I recognized the indirect jab at Bucky and clenched my fists. "They'll never find him," I snarled at Turner, turning my head to look at Ross immediately after. "You'll never find him," I repeated at the higher authority. 

Everett Ross, ever the professional, remained stoic. But when he leaned in to whisper in my ear, his words chilled me to the bone. "Given the unknown situation he's in right now, you'd better hope we do, Miss Reid."

I met his eyes, eyebrows furrowed and hands twitching in both anger and confusion. Shaking my head, I walked out of the station and approached his vehicle, a tall black SUV that was perfect for the CIA. Powerful and commanding, it was a vessel that would make you look over your shoulder warily. 

"Get in," he told me firmly. "We're going to be late."

"Oh, we're on a schedule now?" I rolled my eyes. "What about my stuff at the motel?"

Ross opened the back door of the SUV for me, eyes reflecting in the moonlight. "Someone's picking it up for you as we speak." I still didn't move, so he tried to offer me a reassuring smile. "Elda, I've known your family for years. I'm not going to hurt you. Just get in the car."

I supposed there was no other choice but to obey him, so I clambered up and into the sleek, albeit bulky car. "Too late," I mumbled, wringing my hands together in my lap. Luckily, it seemed he didn't hear me.

The car started, and soon afterward, we were on the interstate, heading to wherever they were taking me. I had no clue how long the drive would be, so I slouched in my seat and tried to get as comfortable as I could, choosing to rest as well as I could with Ross occupying the seat next to me. I'd just closed my eyes when he spoke up.

"I know you disagree with our methods, Elda," he started. He paused, then, as if holding his breath. 

Letting out a puff of air, I answered begrudgingly, "You could say that."

After peering at me in the dark car, he continued. "I want you to know that what happened to your brother was beyond our control. It was a mission gone wrong, and none of them were prepared for it to go awry. It could have been any one of those agents that died that day. It just turned out to be Cade."

"Don't say his name," I hissed, venom lashing out from my words. "You could have trained them harder, prepared them for any possible scenario. You could have saved my brother." I didn't have the heart to look at him, so I chose to stare out the window, trying to ignore Ross's absolutely infuriating presence beside me.