3

6.4K 397 46
                                    


Chapter Three - Crushed Hopes


My plans to check out the location first thing in the morning are completely sabotaged...by me. I missed all my alarms this morning and woke up confused as hell around two in the afternoon.

A long groan of frustration escapes me as I roll out of bed and almost face plant the floor before I rush into the bathroom. I don't even bother opening my eyes to look at my reflection because last night's nightmare was enough for me. After brushing my teeth and taking the quickest shower ever I skip on moisturizing before changing into my clothes. I'm sure the people in the rooms beside me can hear how I'm running about and basically dropping half of my things as I try to get my shit together.

Securing my damp hair in a messy bun I grab my bag and phone before sprinting out of my room. The old lady is nowhere to be seen and I rush out the exit without a backwards glance. Thankfully I don't have to walk far to find a car rental place but as soon as I hire one and sit inside my tummy growls embarrassingly loud in protest.

I double check to see that I have my folder with me before relaxing. Eventually, after taking a wrong turn, I pull up near the clothing store hiding one of the FCAA operations. As I'm grabbing my things I luckily see Roman Jackson walking towards it. Crossing the road and almost being hit by a car I rush after him.

"Mister Jackson!" I call as I run after him before noticing that I've caught the attention of several people.

He turns to me with a confused frown as his dark green eyes assess me. I almost swoon at the sight of him up close, not at all expecting to be affected so strongly. He arches a brow sexily as I stop in front of him and pant harshly. Ugh, I'm so unattractive! I think to myself as I try and catch my breath.

"Hi, I'm Elena Moretti and I wanted to ask you some questions about the recent serial killings –"

"Who the hell are you and how do you know I'm involved with that case?" He frowns while he stares at me in suspicion.

"The police chief in Houston, Kyle Wilson, gave me clearance." I lie straight through my teeth with what I hope is an excellent poker face.

"Well, I didn't receive it. Until we find this guy the details of this case will remain a confidential matter." He states firmly before turning to walk into the building. "I'm going to need you to sign an NDA –"

I rush after him in panic. "But I've been investigating and I –"

"You're what?!" He exclaims gruffly as he turns to me and almost makes me crash into him. "Who do you work for?"

"Well..." I laugh sheepishly before biting my lip when he narrows his eyes in suspicion. "I used to be a journalist for a Californian media company."

"Again, I'm sorry but we cannot disclose case details to the public. Whatever's in the press statement that was sent out a week ago is all you need to know."

"But I just need some information! I have evidence!" I pull out the folder and open it before it's snatched out of my grasp.

He pulls me into the store and guides me into an office at the back. Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration his emerald eyes open to glare at me. "Your first picture is of a girl covered in blood and a mutilated face. What made you think opening this folder up in the middle of a busy street was a smart idea?!"

My eyes widen in realization and I bite my lip. "I'm sorry."

Shaking his head at me he looks through my folder. I take the time to admire him as he reads my notes with furrowed brows. God sure took his time with Roman Jackson. It's like the man is carved to perfection!

His DaredevilWhere stories live. Discover now