Cold Case Lovin'

Part 3 - Casey

Consciousness slammed into me. My body felt sore like I had been in the same position for days. I felt completely rested for the first time in a really long time. Automatically my fingers crept under my pillow for my gun – I always slept with a gun. 

There wasn’t one. 

I suppressed my urge to panic. I listened carefully, keeping my breathing deep and even in case someone was watching. It was quiet. Not the eerie quite that sent survival instincts into overdrive, just the quiet you expected to find in an empty room. I opened my eyes and did a quick sweep of the room. The place looked vaguely familiar but I didn’t have the time to process how or why as memories slowly seeped in. 

I’d failed my most recent mission. It was a simple one – infiltrate Jenk’s Bar and find the bomb. Everything was going smoothly until Heath, my then boyfriend, had walked in. He’d sat down beside me at the counter and just started talking while I had been distracted with trying to keep him safe and find the bomb. The bomb had gone off sooner than expected and I’d flung my fully armed body over his to protect him. In spite of the obvious danger around us he had the time to notice the bracelet he had given me last year dangling from my wrist. 

I went home later that night and after a heated confrontation he packed all his stuff and left. 

He was never coming back.

 I doubt he’d ever forgive me for keeping something like this from him the six months we’d been together. I sat up and winced as pain radiated through my left shoulder.

 I realized then I wasn’t supposed to be alive.

 Cole had betrayed me! He’d shot me point blank in my own home. I pulled the t-shirt someone had put on me away from my shoulder to reveal irritated skin – no wound, no scar. I replayed that night in my head. I was sure he had shot me. There had been pain, blood and the force of impact.

  Confused I stumbled out of bed. My body’s demands and suddenly become pronounced. I needed to find a bathroom – really badly.

 The bathroom was easy to find. It was a simple room off to the side of the one I’d woken up in. It was a simple, utilitarian room that offered all the basics I needed to be human. Trying to figure out how the hell I was alive with no scar or wound after being shot point blank by one of the best shots in this whole spy agency was no excuse for morning breath and filthy skin. 

What surprised me most about the room was that some clothes from my own closet sat waiting on a shelf for me. Whoever had taken the time to raid my closet had also found my underwear drawer and had chosen the raciest pair they could find.

 I should’ve been mortified. 

It only served to irritate me.

 I showered quickly then dressed – I refused to take the chance of having my captor find me naked. I had the strange suspicion they wouldn’t be female.

 I stomped back into the main room letting my anger swell inside me.

 I hoped it would stave off the despair of being captured long enough for my captors to return.