Always Here: A Jay Halstead fanfic

Chapter Seventy Two

It was the next day, and after careful consideration, they had finally decided what they were going to do."We need to get back into his room," Jay said. "I can distract him and you can go, the commander said to do whatever we had to do" she suggested while Jay looked at her incredulously. She needed Intelligence and she needed to do this; it was a win-win situation.

"What? No. I'm not leaving you with a--," Jay started off but stopped when he saw the fire lit in his eyes. "If he's the one doing this, I have to make sure we get justice for these women, and I can't let the commander shut down Intelligence, this is my job, you can't protect me from everything," she spat at him. She had to do something about this, she couldn't just do nothing or wait for him to kill his next victim. She was a cop, not a damsel in distress who needed Jay to save her all the time.

Momentarily set back by her harsh words, because Harper Sky was harder to crack than a CIA agent's car, he turned around. "Harper..." he started, shaking his head, hoping he could convince her not to do this, but part of him knew she was stubborn and she would fight till death to get justice for the women. "He's going to try to do that with--" Jay started, "I can handle myself Jay," she said as she glanced at him, the angry, invisible, fire burning like napalm in her green eyes, not even Jay's beautiful seafoam eyes could convince her not to do this.

"I have to, you can either go to his room while I keep him busy or I can ask Kim," she said, going to the bathroom and starting to change. Jay crossed his arms, looking down, defeated, he knew she didn't care about what happened to herself, that was her job, she put her life on the line everyday for causes like this, but he cared, she meant so much to him. But Harper and Jay were alike, and he knew that she was going to go no matter what, she was stubborn, just like him, it was just a matter of him helping her or not.

"I can keep him distracted for thirty minutes," she started, putting on her shoes. Jay nodded, "Here," he said, handing her a knife, since she couldn't just walk in with a gun. It was the knife that he kept on him all the time, she knew it had sentimental value. She wanted to protest, but Jay closed her hand around it, his fingers burning into her satin skin. "You're pretty good with knives, really did a number on Keyes and his men," he explained, before turning around, she felt a rush of pain overtake her as he mentioned that, she knew it wasn't really her fault but she still felt partly to blame for what had happened to Jay.

She wanted to reach out for him as soon as she saw the look of hurt in his eyes, but she knew that if she did, she wouldn't be able to leave, so she turned, "I'll text you when he comes and leaves," she suggested, leaving the room, she had to go do this. "Fuck," Jay groaned, slamming his hand onto the desk, wishing he could have stopped her. The only thing he was afraid of losing was his best friend and partner, Harper Sky.

He promptly got the text from her and left, slipping into Roger's room and looking around for anything incriminating. Then, he noticed a pair of curtains, but there were no windows behind them. He didn't want to know what was behind those curtains, he already had a good idea about what it was, but he needed to, he needed to get justice for all of those women, he needed to help Harper.

He reached out for them, with a shaky hand, before ripping them open. "Son of a bitch," he whispered, to the right, there were pictures of all of his victims once they were killed along with a detailed description of what he did to them and how it felt. Jay shook his head, but nothing could prepare him for what he saw when he turned to the left, it was Harper.

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes landed on a picture of her head thrown back laughing in Molly's, she was beautiful. He regained his focus and analyzed the other photos and he vowed to himself once they got Roger, they would have a long session in the cage. He never lost his cool but when it came to Harper, he got really started. It looked like the oldest pictures he had of her were when Lily had just died, when the rapes had started, he swallowed the lump in his throat as he observed the vacant expression on her face as she walked out of a club, it was a reminder of the way he had let her down.

Even though she was the one who ran away, he still blamed himself for it. His eyes traveled down to pictures of her leaving the district, his skin immediately started to prickle. When he got to a picture of them leaving a club from an undercover assignment, he didn't even know he was running until he caught himself walking down the staircase to the bar Harper was supposed to meet Roger at. Roger knew she was a cop, Roger knew about everything, he just needed a way to get Harper.

"Fuck," he yelled, "Damn it," he groaned, punching the wall. Harper wasn't there and there were a couple drops of blood where her clutch was. He didn't know what was going through his mind, anger, hatred, guilt, but he knew he needed to find Harper. He called the unit, his brain working a mile a minute, pushing his emotions to the side, attempting to act like a robot like he always did, but he couldn't, not when it came to Harper.

He had no idea where she was, and the guilt was eating him alive, but he was trying to preserve one part of himself, the part that was going to help him find Harper. He didn't know how she would handle all of this, he didn't know how Roger had found her, but he had to find her, she had to be okay. He sifted through her clutch, hoping and praying that her phone wasn't in it and that maybe it was with her. He didn't believe in god and he wasn't religious but he was using every ounce of everything he had, hoping that Harper would be okay because he needed her as much as he needed to breathe.