The Traitor ✓ (Book Six)

Chapter Seventeen

  I hear the voices around me, but I don't.  I thought the first time I killed someone would be the most traumatic event of my life at the time, but it wasn't.

  My issue now is how long it's been. Sure, the dude's a terrible person and he deserved it- but he was still a person. In the secret service I didn't make a habit of murdering people, but eventually I became desensitized.

  So why does it bother me so much now?

  I watch the lips of a cop move. There's a ringing in my ears. Combined with my heartbeat, they drown everything else out.

  I've seen agents go into shock before. I know if it lasts a certain amount of time, they'd be put on leave for their mental health.

If victor has common sense, he'd do the same thing- Which means I need to snap the fuck out of it.

  The cop standing in front of me forcibly lifts my face up to check my eyes. He mumbles some medical term to the other officer, and it finally hits me.

  When I move, my muscles are stiff. I realize I was clenching them- for however long that was.

"Jesus-" Maria's voice fades in. "You scared us there."

I've scared a lot of people in my life, in various different ways. Some of them died. Some of them just got PTSD and had to go to therapy forever. I think causing so much pain gave me a mild case myself.

  Torturing children- sometimes younger than ten, was the most traumatizing part. Because at the end of the day, I knew what would happen if I refused. I don't like to think about that god awful day that made me truly understand, that made me vow never to defy them.

"Damon- Maria here told us you're her bodyguard. Is that true?" One of the cops, I'm not sure which one- says.

  How much time has passed?

  I must've been unresponsive for however long it took cops to get here- so at least twenty minutes.

  The only time I've been that still for that long( besides in sleep) was when we were waiting on the bomb squad, directly after my breakdown. I'd pressed a button on what the group called "the device", and if I removed it- it would blow up everything within a half mile radius.

  It took three hours for them to get it out of my hands and destroy the technology- at least I think they did. They never told me otherwise.

"Uhm...I.... Yeah." I finally reply. I'm not quite sure what they want me to say, so I decide to cooperate and answer the questions truthfully.

"Have you ever killed somebody before?" The other cop asks. The genuine concern on his face would be comforting but-

Oh fuck me.

Where do I even begin?

With the first time I shot somebody on a protection detail?

For three months, I worked for the Governor of Maryland. She was a democrat, but an extremely hated one- and she got a lot of death threats so I knew it was coming sooner or later. One day she was leaving her house and somebody started spraying bullets from across the street. I dove on top of her(as our training told us to), shielding her body with mine. I didn't have time to look for where his legs or hands were.

In that moment, he had to die for the Governor to live. Quite the fucked up example of "a life for a life" if you ask me.

Do I start with the first time somebody died from the torture?

Just a few months after I joined the group, a nineteen year old who was also forced into it threatened to expose our headquarters. The leaders asked me to be extra cruel. I can still see the blood flowing from hundreds of different cuts, his teeth scattered across the tile floors....

The headquarters now sit, abandoned and gathering dust. They're closed off to the public, citing safety reasons, but here's my theory:

After the group was disbanded and all voluntary members were thrown in prison for life, some world government decided to keep it. The headquarters were extremely high tech, after all. Why wouldn't they take advantage of it for free?

  World governments have never been against stealing, whether thats land or resources. In fact it's so normalized that when it happens nobody blinks an eye.

"I...no." I lie. How do I explain to two police officers that over a hundred people have died because of me?

  Death was so normal within the organization. Anybody who posed a threat was killed.

  A cop pulls me aside, into another disgusting room of this man's house. Outside, I hear backup arriving.

  So we'll get to leave soon. Good.

"Okay. I understand this may be hard to hear but you were defending her and yourself. We looked through his security cameras. You have nothing to feel bad about." He forces me to look at him.

Except I do. I had ten years to think about my actions- ten years to understand the value of human life. I tried to remember their names- the ones I knew at least, but most faded.

"I.... He's dead."  My facial expression is cold, emotional but hardened by the shit I've been through. "He might have been able to live out the rest of his life in solitary."

"You were just doing your job-" The cop starts.

"NO!" I suddenly yell. This visibly startles him and the backup just coming in the door. They rush into the room just to make sure we're alive, and I realize how that no might've sounded to somebody else.

"I could have.... Shot his hand or something." I clear my throat. The mood drops. They've clearly had to have this conversation before- but I wonder how many times it was with a convicted terrorist.

  "You and I both know there wasn't time for that."