After a hard year of being kidnapped by a serial killer during an investigation as an undercover agent, Luna returned back to Atlanta FBI.
When she returns to investigate a mystery drug that has been killing kids, she discovers that the dead kids w...
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"Go on. Tell us what you told him." I say.
"She'll tell you she won't make a deal. She'll tell you she won't compromise. But she will. She always does. Just... just know who you're talking to." Lamson says.
Rick looks to me and nods. "Probably heading out in the next 10 minutes or so. Anything you need before we leave?" Rick asks him.
"Actually, water would be great." Lamson says, looking at me.
"Get it yourself." I scoff, walking away. These mood swings were getting out of control.
"Sorry." Rick whispers.
"It's okay, when my wife was pregnant, she had crazy mood swings." Lamson says.
Rick's eyes get huge. "Oh..." Lamson says. Rick looks over his shoulder at me, hugging the post, trying not to throw up again.
"How'd you know?" he asks Lamson.
"Call it instinct. Or just... just my wife and I had many kids..." Lamson says.
"She hasn't told me. She thinks... she thinks she's dying." Rick says.
They both chuckle. "Good luck to you both. Now how about that water?" Lamson asks.
"Will do. Thanks, Sargent Lamson." Rick says.
"Actually, my real name is Bob." he says.
I see Sasha shoot him a glare. Shit, I did not feel like intervening in a cat fight.
"You're still a cop. Like us." Rick says, looking to me. My bitchy glare softens at his words and his compassionate tone.
"No. Not like you two... plus, the real ones are all gone now." he says.
Rick walks over to me. He hands me a water bottle and a granola bar. I wave it away.
"Eat." he demands. "Please, for me."
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I roll my eyes. "Fine."
He smiles. "If you need to sit out for this, I understand."
"No. I'm fine. I swear. I was just hungry." I tell him.
