Page 146 of Controlled Burn
“I know enough,” Brooks replied. “I know what she did, how she humiliated you. I know how she made you need her. How she turned the crew against you.”
Jake’s jaw flexed. “She didn’t turn them. They were already—”
“Waiting for an excuse,” Brooks finished smoothly.
Jake looked out the window. His reflection stared back—split lip, swollen cheekbone. A reminder. An anchor.
“They’ll turn on her,” Jake muttered. “Eventually. All it’ll take is the right spark.”
“What kind of spark?” Brooks asked.
Jake leaned back, eyes unfocused. “Something that proves she’s poison. That she’s not the hero she pretends to be. Make Stark doubt her. Make Dean hate her. Make Maddox see she’s not worth it.” His hands curled into fists on the table. “I want them to look at her the way they look at me.”
Brooks nodded once, like a teacher confirming the answer. “That’s possible. Very possible.”
Silence stretched. The hum of the fluorescent lights filled the booth.
“You’re not the first,” Brooks said finally. “She’s been climbing over the backs of men since she stepped into the station. Maddox. King. You. Making each of you think you mattered.”
Jake’s eyes flicked back, blank but flickering.
“Play the video,” Brooks said.
Jake unlocked the phone. The first clip was from the locker room. Grainy. Muted. But unmistakable—Talia pressed againsta bench, Maddox behind her, both still in partial gear. Her face blurred, but her body language was undeniable. She was in control. Even then.
Jake clicked through more. The bay. The turnout room. That night in the decon chamber. Footage he’d never seen before, angles he didn’t know existed. Now in his hands.
“She’s everywhere,” Jake whispered.
“She always has been,” Brooks replied.
Jake’s fingers clenched tight around the phone until the case creaked. His pulse was visible in his throat, his breath shallow but steady.
“I want to make her pay,” he said finally, voice raw.
Brooks nodded. “Then we do it together.”
Jake exhaled. A twisted grin tugged at his bruised mouth. “What’s the plan?”
Brooks leaned back, satisfied. He had what he needed: a man who wanted revenge more than he wanted redemption. A man with nothing left to lose.
Brooks (later)
He hadn’t always worn the uniform. Once, he was an IT analyst—cubicle, spreadsheets, silence. Until the complaint. A woman who said he followed too close, knew too much.
He left before HR could act. Reinvented himself at the academy. Built a new face, a new story.
And then Talia Cross walked into Station 12.
She didn’t recognize him. Of course she didn’t. She never remembered the boys she left behind. But he remembered her. Every laugh, every dismissal, every time she chose someone else.
Now she was back. Untouchable. Radiant. Cruel.
This time, he’d make her remember.
Chapter 52
Accelerant
