Oblivion {James Rodriguez} {Book ONE}

the decision

I stare at him, dumbfounded.

"Excuse me, what?"

"Kerensky is going to kill you if you do not close your case on him." He says carefully, dragging out his words for emphasis. Does he think I'm dumb? I heard him the first time he said it, it just didn't really sink in properly. Now that it did, I'm suddenly having a really hard time with my oxygen intake.

His eyes search my features frantically, as if analyzing every bit of my reaction. I don't blame him, either. I probably look like I just saw a ghost with three heads.

"Kerensky's out to get me?" I whisper tersely.

He nods and bites his lip.

It takes a while for the true horror of it to sink in. Does that mean my life is on the line all over again like it was six years ago?

"What should I do!" I exclaim like a mad woman. His eyes soften at my frantic state.

"The only thing you can do it drop this case." He suggests passively, like its the easiest thing in the universe. I look at him with astonishment and anger.

"Drop the case? Do you not understand that I closed all normal client cases to work on this case for the past four years? Do you not understand I might lose my job?" I snap.

"Listen, I know it's not easy-" He was sharply interrupted by me. I wasn't going to let him off easy.

"You know? How do you know it's not easy? Are you the lawyer with a billion things to do everyday and Hitler himself for a boss? Really, how would you know?"

"Kerensky's going to kill you soon, and that's really all I need to know, if anything." He says rudely.

"Why is he doing this to me?" I whine. There are about a million lawyers out there who have this case opened. Why not target them instead? I certainly have no connections to him, nor do I plan on doing so either. Was it one of the suspects that I interviewed? But I let them off the hook without any scratches if they refused to cooperate. Then what is it?

Carter sighs and looks up into the ceiling in frustration. I can tell he's having a really hard time with this conversation. He's changed a lot, too.

"He's after you because I owe him something," His voice is barely above a whisper.

My eyes widen in realization.

"So because you didn't pay some stupid debt now I have to die?" I challenge him.

"N-" He stops himself. "Well, yes."

"You're unbelievable. This is unbelievable. How am I even in this mess?" I exclaim again, still confused and extremely frustrated.

"He's targeting the people that I..." He starts, averting his gaze as a rosy color creeps to his cheeks. I can see that he's desperately searching for the right set of words to phrase his next sentence. I already know it's going to touch up on a sensitive topic that can potentially turn this already tense, bizarre situation into a disastrously awkward one. So I decided to help him by taking the painful trip down memory lane myself.

"That you were close to?" I finish for him, voice soft and contrasting greatly with the initial tone of the conversation.

"That I had history with, yes." He breathes out, relieved at my support. He briefly meets my gaze to scan my facial expression, and I gaze right back like the stupid moron I am.

The cliche butterflies act as a much-needed wake up call from this intoxicating moment, so I look away and fix my gaze to the nearest wall instead.

We sit there in silence, with nothing but the almost-muted sounds of the street below the apartment softly happening in the background. Even by not looking at him, I can feel that he's thinking very hard. He does this thing where he looks off into the near distance and furrows his eyebrows in concentration, as if focusing all his energy on analyzing the thoughts on his brain.

"Carter, what do I do?" I whisper weakly, vulnerably. The weight of the situation settled in a very long time ago, but it wasn't until now that I'm realizing how drastic the consequences can be.

I'm going to live every day starting today in extreme anxiety and paranoia. The choice may be obvious to some, but I still do not know if I have it in me to drop this case completely, forget about Kerensky and forget about my position at Ashton & Berkeley's law firm.

What would happen if I took up the challenge? First and foremost, it would involve a lot of frequent contact with Carter, which can be a good thing, if we both decide to mature up and not drag our past into the present.

His head snaps up at my plea. I can tell he wasn't expecting me to seem this weak and frightened about this situation, but what would you do if your ex-boyfriend springs out of no-where and tells you that if you don't lose your job a notorious member of the KGB will take your life down with his own hands?

"It's going to be okay," He whispers softly once he sees my overwhelmed expression. For a split second, I thought he was going to place his hand on top of mine reassuringly and gently stroke it like he used to before.

But of course, what world am I living in? Oh right, the one that sucks. Even though he did not show any sort of physical reassurance after his words, he did give me a firm and reliable expression which I had learned to trust over the years.

"Carter, it's not okay. He's going to kill me!" I protest. Although his comment caused me great relief, I can't help but doubt it heavily.

"He's going to kill me, as well. But am I panicking?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. I shake my head slowly. I haven't thought about that. If anything, he's the one directly in contact with Kerensky, which means that if Kerensky was feeling feisty, the first person he would aim a gun at would be Carter. And yet he sits beside me, unfazed.

"I'm not panicking because I know that cowardly bastard is not going to lay a finger on you, or me, or anyone involved in this." He says smoothly, like he already took down Kerensky and liberated the world from anxiety.

"You promise?" I look up at him like a nine-year-old making a pinky swear. He smirks slightly at my sudden and childish question.

"Yes," He smiles. "I promise."

***

A/N: Do you guys want me to post a picture of Carter or should I leave it to your imaginations?