Jason
I stiffened as Denise's words echoed in my mind, but it wasn't the urgency in her voice that bothered me. It was the underlying accusation, the weight of what she expected from me.
She had no idea how heavy this was. She couldn't possibly understand what I had left behind—the way the whole thing had been spiraling, unraveling. But I knew I had to tell her everything. There was no other way.
When she ordered me to take her to the place where it all started, where I left Janica behind, it hit me like a punch to the gut.
I wanted to scream that I didn't deserve to go back there, that the weight of my choices was already too much to bear. But the part of me that needed to do the right thing—the part that loved Janica—was already making the decision for me.
I glanced at her, and for a moment, I saw something in Denise's eyes. It wasn't just a hardened detective; there was something else there too. Maybe it was the same feeling I had when I thought about Janica, that need to protect her no matter the cost.
Still, the jealousy surged again.
Why did Eli have to stay with her? It wasn't rational, I knew that. But it didn't stop the frustration bubbling up inside me.
I glanced at Janica, curled into Eli's presence like it was the only thing keeping her afloat. Her shoulders were rigid, her breath uneven—she looked like she hadn't let herself exhale in hours.
My fists clenched. It should've been me.
I should've been the one she leaned into.
Not Eli.
The sight of him beside her, grounded and unwavering, filled me with a bitterness I hadn't expected. I knew he was only protecting her, but the way she let herself sink into his stillness—despite the tension wrapped around her like armor—made my chest ache.
I clenched my jaw, forcing the thought away. I couldn't afford to let my emotions take over now.
I turned to Denise, nodding once. "Let's go."
She didn't waste time, her pace brisk and determined as she led the way out of the safe house. I followed her, the weight of my own guilt pressing down on my shoulders.
As we stepped into the cool night air, I noticed the security detail waiting by the cars—two of my men. They weren't just security. They were trained. Police were also standing by.
Denise didn't say a word, but her presence was demanding. She could feel the tension in the air. I could tell by the way she kept her eyes fixed ahead.
The car ride felt like a blur. The only sound in the vehicle was the hum of the engine, the occasional snap of a radio, the low murmur of the men communicating.
Then Denise spoke again, cutting through the silence.
"Jason," her voice was quieter this time, more controlled. "You have to tell me everything. It's obvious you're holding back. We both know it, and it's not helping anyone."
"You're right," I said, my voice low. "There's more. About Janica's mom… and about Peterson."
Denise's eyes didn't move from mine. "Then say it. All of it. You've been talking in pieces."
I nodded slowly. "When I told Janica about Peterson, I kept some things out. She was already shaken. But the truth is… I think her mother was killed."
Her jaw tightened, but she didn't interrupt.
"She wasn't just investigating Peterson's company. She had something real. I found a lead—a report she filed that never made it public. It mentioned a project called Shuttle Green. And that name came up again in an encrypted email I found in Peterson's files last month."
"What is Shuttle Green?" Denise asked.
"I don't know yet. But I think it's tied to illegal shipments and maybe… experimentation. The kind of thing people get killed over. Janica's mom wasn't just sick—she was targeted. And Peterson was part of the cleanup."
Denise leaned back, her expression unreadable. "So why not tell Janica all this?"
I sighed. "Because I didn't want her to carry the weight of revenge. I wanted to protect her… and I didn't want to lose her trust."
"You already did," Denise said. "By hiding it."
Silence.
Then I whispered, "I know."
Her eyes lingered on me for a beat, then she turned her face to the window, jaw clenched, breathing deep. "Just don't let your guilt become another lie. She deserves better than that."
We drove on, the distance to the place I never thought I'd return to growing shorter with every mile. But as we neared the location, the air around me grew heavier, suffocating.
I could already feel it.
The memories, the smell of the place, the sound of Janica's voice as she called out to me. I could hear her now, even though she wasn't there.
When we finally stopped, I felt the weight of the air shift. The same cold, sterile smell from that night clung to the place like a permanent stain. It all came rushing back—the terror, the panic, the feeling of being out of control.
I got out of the car first, the gravel beneath my boots crunching loudly in the silence. Denise followed, the sound of her shoes soft against the ground. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I turned to face the house where everything had gone wrong.
I still couldn't shake the image of Janica—her face, so trusting, so sure that I would protect her. And I had failed.
I pushed the memory away as best as I could, but the knot in my chest tightened.
"We're here," I muttered, the words barely escaping my lips.
Denise didn't waste time. She was already moving, scanning the surroundings, her eyes flicking to everything. I stood there for a moment, frozen.
I tried to shake off the feeling of my feet being stuck to the ground. I wasn't going to let this place consume me again. Not this time.
I pushed through, making my way toward the door. I could feel the ghost of my actions—leaving Janica behind—creeping up again. It was like a bruise I kept touching, even though it hurt more every time.
"Take me inside," Denise said, her voice commanding.
I nodded, pushing open the door, my mind reeling. I needed to confront what I'd left behind. But the weight of my betrayal was still there, pulling me under.