Crushing Beauty

Chapter ONE





Britton wildly awoke from her dream as her boss slammed a cup of coffee down on her desk.



“Long night, Special Agent Ramirez?” He laughed.



“I couldn’t sleep. I was studying my notes.”



“You have those notes memorized. What else do you need to study?”



“Something? I don’t know. I’m missing something big. I just…” Her thought was interrupted by a yawn.



“Okay, that’s enough of that. You’re coming out tonight. You’ve been here for three years and no one even knows your name.”



“That’s not true.”



“Well, I may be exaggerating a little bit, but sometimes you got to put work down and have a bit of fun. Come on, we’re all heading to the Village Pub. You look like you could use a drink.”



“I look like I could use a nap.”



“Yes, but a drink will help you get there faster.”



“Thanks David, but—”



“Nope, you’re not blowing me off again. I'm ordering you to come out. I’m tired of hanging out with all these guys. We need a hot chick in our group.”



“Hot chick?”



“I can say that. It’s not sexist. You are a hot chick, and Lloyd over there is a cool dude. It’s just my vernacular. Don’t you dare try to file a report because of this friendly, non-sexual conversation.” He grinned.



Britton smiled at him; she knew David's intentions were pure. He did often make her laugh...and maybe she needed a night out, away from the undercover world.



“Okay, fine, I’ll come. Just give me a minute.”



“Wahoo!” he bellowed loudly. “Guys, it worked! She’s coming!”



Britton chuckled as she tidied up her desk. She looked down at the case file she had fallen asleep on top of. The dark brown eyes in the picture stared back at her, calling her soul to his. It was Jagger. It had been ten years since she'd seen him last, and yet this picture still made her insides boil. She inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and quietly hummed her exhale.



“Okay, Mr. Stromm, I’ll see you tomorrow.”



She packed up her notes and neatly placed them inside her black leather bag. Her hands slapped against her tight thighs as she rose from her swivel chair to go have a night out with the guys.





“To Britton!” They all dedicated the first clink of glasses to her.



Working at the Bureau wasn’t an easy job, but these guys knew how to take the edge off. They spent their entire days fighting crime and saving lives; they deserved this drink. She recognized that, and yet couldn’t wait to get out of that bar. She enjoyed her coworkers. They were hardworking, amusing people, and she was fairly certain that they were extra nice to her because of her feminine novelty.



There was only one other woman in her office, and she was more of a “guy” than the rest of them. Britton was different. She chose a career in criminal justice because of him and what he did all those years ago. She wanted nothing more than to find Jagger. Her thoughts kept spiraling hopelessly back to her case.




“Hey proby, you okay?” David noticed her wandering eyes.



“Yes, I’m fine...I’m just tired.” Then, realizing that he was teasing her, she fired back. “And hey, I’m not a proby anymore, thank you.”



“Until the next new guy shows up, you’re the resident proby. And we love you for it.”



She smiled at him. David knew how to get her out of her head. He was her superior, the one who brought her into this branch of the FBI, the one who dropped this case on her desk a year and a half ago. She’d been looking at his picture for eighteen months, but still had yet to see him in person again. She wondered if he had changed. She wondered if his shoulders were still broad and his right dimple deeper than his left. She thought about him constantly, though she was certain he had completely forgot about her the day he walked away ten years earlier.



Sometimes Britton had to remind herself that she was only twenty-six years old. She felt that she had lived an entire lifetime in the past quarter century. Her body ached from the life she'd already lived, the life she thought she was running away from.



“I hear you had Masterson at Quantico?” that name brought her back into the conversation.



“Yeah, she was actually the agent that suggested I look into the Bureau in the first place. She gave me my recommendation.”



“I’m pretty sure she never said one direct word to me. She just stared at me in class. Like I was stupid.”



“Well you are stupid.” Another agent sloppily chimed in.



“Get back to your beer. It’s getting warm.” David retaliated.



Britton couldn’t understand what was pulling her away, but she wanted time to herself. These guys were fun, simple enough, and after everything she was dealing with simple should’ve been exactly what she needed, but she couldn’t allow herself to relax. She chugged the remainder of her beer and slammed it down on the bar. The guys cheered, and she allowed her genuine smile to appear across her face.



“I’m actually falling asleep. You guys are boring me.” She joked. “Time to hit the hay; see you tomorrow.”



They all said their goodbyes and thanked her for finally joining them for once. She promised that it wouldn’t be the last time, but it was a promise she wasn’t sure if she could keep. She enjoyed her alone time. She enjoyed having her thoughts to herself. These guys didn’t know her. They didn’t know the person she was before the FBI, and she wanted to keep it that way.



Britton made her way to her car, climbed in, and turned the key. The engine roared to life. It brought her back to her dream. So many things in her life reminded her of him. Him. Stupid him. She wanted to see him. She wanted to slap him across the face. He was the only one in the whole world who'd cared, who'd loved her...or so she thought. She wanted to just keep punching until the hurt and abandonment she felt was gone. Her eyes filled, and she lashed out, slamming her fists into the steering wheel.



“Woah, Nellie!” She heard David’s voice outside her window.



She rolled the glass down reluctantly, incredibly embarrassed that someone had witnessed her tantrum.



“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”



“You don’t need to apologize to me. I’ve punched my share of steering wheels. I just wanted to make sure you were okay to drive.”



“Yeah, I only had one drink.”



“And nothing to eat all day.”



“Yes I…” Britton thought through her day. She hadn’t eaten. She hadn’t eaten anything more than a granola bar in over a week. She had noticeably lost weight: at least ten pounds.



“You forget, I see all. Please eat something. You're already too skinny, and we don’t have the budget to buy you a new wardrobe once those pants fall clear off of you.” He paused, going over his last words. “Don’t file a report about that comment either.”



She couldn’t help but laugh again. Maybe she needed to spend more time with David. Maybe it would bring her out of her funk.



“I’ll eat something as soon as I get home.”



“I don’t believe you.” He said half-joking.



“I will. Now move, or I’ll run you over.”



He smiled at her. She knew from that smile that he cared about her. He wanted to protect her. Right now, she needed that.



She pulled into her driveway and turned off the car. Her body froze. Every moment felt like she was going to crack. Her bones felt brittle. She needed to get her mind off of this case, but how?



She needed to go for a run. That always settled her mind, and she needed the rush of endorphins after her dream had been haunting her all day. She went inside and changed into her running gear.



Her shoes hit the pavement, and with each pound, flashes from the accident flooded her thoughts.



She remembered Jagger. She remembered the quick right turn, and she remembered the blackness. She woke up to the sound of sirens. She couldn’t see clearly; her eyes were blurry. There was rain on her face. Why was she on the pavement? She called for him, unable to move. She screamed his name over and over, but he never came for her. An officer appeared in her line of sight.



“Miss, can you move?”

“What?”

“Can you move your legs?”

“Umm, yes.”

“Are you able to stand?”

“I don’t know. Where is he?”

“Who?”

“My boyfriend. Is he okay?”

“There’s no one here. Just you. Were you driving this car?”

“No.”

“Were you wearing a seatbelt?”

She thought about this for a while. Of course she was; she always wore a seatbelt. Wait, no, she was straddling Jagger. She was on top of him when everything went dark. She can’t control her tears. The one stable thing in her life had disappeared.

“No. I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt...but he...he left me?”

“I’m sorry, Miss. There was no one else at the scene when we arrived. The ambulance is on the way.”



Tears began streaming down her face as she recalled that night. The combination of Las Vegas heat and lack of food was causing her to become faint. She had to get back to her house. She spun around, but in the dark night, had lost her way. This was the path she ran every day. How could she be lost? Her vision was swimming, her mind was getting fuzzier and her legs suddenly felt so weak. Reaching the point of extreme exhaustion, she allowed her body to collapse on a small patch of grass.



This wasn’t healthy. She knew that. She knew she was allowing this case to get the best of her. She knew this man still had power over her that she couldn’t explain. She hadn’t seen him in ten years and yet her world was spiraling out of control because of him. She closed her eyes for a few moments. Just for a few moments. She needed to calm herself down.