Page 21 of Fight for Me

“I won’t let that happen,” Brody states with conviction, his face determined. “I promised you safety, and I intend to keep my promise.”

When I give him a dubious look, he frowns and looks away as if considering something, then focuses back on my face, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“All right, I guess there are some things I could share with you so you’re not in the dark completely.”

“Go on.”

“Okay... I’m a federal agent working undercover as an officer to infiltrate the local police. Your father is the main object of my investigation, but not exclusively.”

When I lift my eyebrows while crossing my arms, he questions, “Really? No comment?”

Rolling my eyes, I respond, “There isn’t much that can truly surprise me at this point, Handsome. Also, it makes total sense.” I gesture for him to continue.

“Umm, okay. So, we are working on exposing your father’s deeds, but until we smoke him out, I can’t do much about the charges brought against you. But we are closer to getting him, as things are getting out of hand in his little scheme. Your father is on a slippery slope and tries to save himself by all means necessary. He even contacted some of his old friends from his time in the military, hoping to get them on his side. But in reality, he dug himself a little deeper in the process.”

“Does one of those friends happen to be named Robert by any chance?” I ask, remembering the name from my mother’s confession.

“I think so,” Brody replies slowly, eyeing me suspiciously. “Jen, do you know something?”

“Nah, just curious about someone my mother mentioned once,” I deflect, not wanting to get into that conversation. What happened yesterday is still a big no-no for me to talk about.

Brody looks skeptical but lets it go, thank God. “So, as I was saying. It’s only a matter of time now before we make his little empire collapse, and you’ll be free of your father for good.”

“So what does he do? It has to be something big for the FBI to send their spy to a fucking nowhere-town like Bell Ridge.”

“I can’t share the details of the investigation,” he deadpans.

“Oh, come on! Whom am I going to tell?”

Brody gives me a blank stare and keeps silent. Asshole.

“Pfft, fine. Be that way. When am I leaving to get to the shelter then?”

“I’ll drive you today after it gets dark. Safer this way.”

I stand up from the table. “Great. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a nap.”

“Be my guest,” Brody states, his face expressionless as he watches my movements.

“And I’ll be taking your bed. That fucking couch is preposterous,” I warn him and decide to ignore the twitching corner of his lips as I march out.

Just when I reach the doorway, I clear my throat and, without turning fully, say, “Thank you for helping me, Brody.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he grunts as I walk out.

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WE SPENT THE WHOLE way over to the shelter in Madison in silence. After I cried myself to sleep in Brody’s bed, I drifted into unsettling dreams full of cold, angry eyes and grabby hands touching me. I woke with a silent cry to the sound of knocking on the bedroom door and a deep voice informing me that it was time to go.

I thought that sleep would be the remedy for my sore body and suffocating depression, but after I got up, the unpleasant feelings just amplified, making me cranky and agitated. When I sat in the passenger seat of Brody's car, I switched on the radio, turned toward the window, closed my eyes, and pretended to fall asleep because I would rather not take out my raging feelings on him.

Now, I’m dreading the next time when sleep will pull me under. I wish Claire were close so she could lie next to me and tell me about whatever’s on her mind, calming me down in the process and keeping me on the ground. I want to hold her hand as I fall asleep and feel the closeness of someone who would never harm me.

Currently, I don’t know what will happen to me, and that amplifies my anxiety with each minute. Brody claims that my father will be behind bars soon. I believe that he thinks he’s telling me the truth, I can see the determination and hatred for my father in his eyes whenever we touch on the subject. But let’s be real here. My father may be slipping, but he still holds a lot of power in our town, with his officers backing him up at each step. And he’s not stupid. If he has a file on Brody and is looking into him, that means that he’s not fooled and at least suspects he has a mole among his staff.

Sure, it would be great if my father disappeared, and I could go back home to my mother and Claire, return to school and start living like a normal person my age. Sounds great. But my life was never great, and I’m not so naïve to think that everything will work out in my favor just because I want to. Men like my father always win. They hold all the power. They can do whatever they want. And I am just collateral damage in the whole scheme of things. Unimportant. Disposable. Just something to use, play with and discard when it’s broken beyond repair.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts when the car stops and Brody turns off the engine.

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