Page 160 of Can You Take It?

Martin’s good, I’ll give him that. But he’s not good enough to know about the two-way glass in the holding cells. To anyone outside, it looks like frosted glass. But from the observation room? I’ll see everything.

Pulling my ID from my pocket, I swipe it against the scanner and slip into the observation room. Inside, Izel’s with Victor.

Izel stands in front of him, and I can see the rage barely held in check. She’s ready. More than ready. She’s not that broken girl he used to toy with. She’s a force now. The way she doesn’tflinch, the way she stands tall even when he’s trying to get inside her head—it’s exactly what I knew she was capable of.

When she throws that first punch, I feel it in my bones. She’s not holding back, not this time. And when Victor gives it back, I tense up, almost ready to break through the door. But I stop. Because I see it in her eyes—the fight. She’s not giving up. She’s not letting him win.

But when Victor tackles her to the ground, when his hands wrap around her throat, something in me snaps. My hand is on the door, ready to burst in and end him. The sight of her choking, struggling under his weight—it’s a nightmare I can barely stomach. I start to push the door open, ready to make my move, but then she moves. Izel shifts, finds her strength, and throws him off. She flips him, takes control, and for a second, I’m in awe of her. She’s not just fighting back; she’s winning. The girl I once had to protect is now doing what I couldn’t. She’s avenging everyone, everything. And when she pulls the trigger, when she finally ends it, I can’t help but feel proud—so fucking proud.

Proud because she is taking control, taking her fate into her own hands after years of being manipulated and abused. Proud because she’s finally putting an end to the monster who destroyed so many lives. Proud because, for once, she’s not the victim.

It’s over. She’s won. And I’ve never loved her more than in this moment.

When she walks out, leaving the gun on the table, I step out from the observation room.

Forensic countermeasures. I don’t even have to think. Instinct kicks in. I step over Victor’s lifeless body, crouching down to inspect the mess. Thankfully, all of Izel’s shots were clean—through and through. That makes this easier. I grab a pair of gloves from my pocket, slipping them on as I begincollecting the casings. One by one, I scoop them up, making sure to leave no trace. The last thing I need is for anyone to connect her to this.

I dig around in my jacket, finding my service weapon. Perfect. I kneel down, angling it just right, and fire one last shot into his chest. This time, the bullet stays lodged in him with no exit wound. That’s the one that’ll matter. No ballistics will link Izel to this. This final shot? That’s all me.

I walk over to the table, and grab her gun, wiping it down and replacing it with my service weapon.

I drop a quick message into Victor’s dead ears, “Rot in hell, you bastard.”

I slip out just as quietly as I came in, ensuring Izel isn’t aware of my presence.

A reporter’s question drags me back to the present. “So you admit to killing Victor Montclair?”

I take a deep breath, facing the sea of expectant faces. “Yes, I admit it. I shot Victor Montclair in self-defense.”

“Did your superiors know about this?”

I glance at Wilson. I can’t lie about this. Wilson will expose me. I knew this question was coming, but I have no answer. I open my mouth to respond, but Wilson steps in.

“Yes, we were informed,” Wilson says, stepping forward. I move to the side, giving him the space. “SSA Reynolds has always been thorough and methodical. He briefed us on the situation. In a high-pressure moment, he made a difficult but necessary decision to protect lives.”

What the... Why would Wilson lie? He continues answering a few more questions, painting a picture of me as a competent and reliable officer. Eventually, he signals the end of the conference.

As the crowd disperses, I walk over to Wilson, who’s now speaking with the Director. I wait at a distance, watching their conversation wind down before approaching him.

“Why did you lie back there?”

“Sometimes the truth isn’t what people need to hear, Agent Reynolds. It’s about protecting the bigger picture.”

I frown, not satisfied with his evasion. “You know I didn’t inform anyone. Why cover for me?”

He gives me a look, sidestepping my question. “Protocol isn’t always the answer.”

“Bullshit,” I snap. “You always follow the rules. You never cover for anyone. Why now?”

Wilson sighs, looking more tired than I’ve ever seen him. “We can’t afford to lose a good detective over a technicality. You made the right call, even if the paperwork wasn’t in order.”

I’m about to argue more when he cuts me off. “Look, this isn’t up for debate. You’re suspended, effective immediately.”

“Suspended?” I repeat, confusion washing over me. “I thought I’d be imprisoned for sure.”

Wilson shakes his head. “No, you’re not getting imprisoned. We need you, Reynolds. You’re a damn good detective, and we can’t afford to lose you. But you need to take a step back, get your head straight.”

“So, I just walk away with a suspension?”

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