Crown of Sins - Chaelisa

-Chapter Twelve-

*Lisa's POV*

It's possible I looked for an excuse to call Rosie yesterday, and the day before that too. It's possible that I looked through each of our open cases, trying to make an excuse for using her only days after striking our deal.

I knew it wouldn't work, but I tried my ass off anyway. But today, today I had the opportunity dropped into my lap, and I don't even have to say that it was my idea. Because it wasn't. Not that I wasn't looking for one. But I never have to admit that now.

So there's just the hint of a smirk playing on my lips when I lift up my desk phone to dial her number.

It fades, though, as each set of trills make its way to my ear. If she's not in her office...

"Already?" Rosie answers with annoyance coating her voice. It shouldn't make me want to laugh.

"You knew what you were getting into when we shook hands," I tell her. I know she did too. She's smarter than every person on this team combined. Probably every person in this building.

"Yeah, well, I thought I'd have a little more time to prepare before you called me on our deal," she says through an exaggerated sigh.

My eyes turn to slits. Not that she can see me. It helps to stop me from tapping my fingers on the desk, something that she would be able to hear and know just how well she's getting under my skin. As usual.

It's amazing how she can drag me kicking and screaming from excited and high on anticipation to struggling to breathe through my anger in mere moments.

"What the hell do you need to prepare for?" I demand. It is a demand too, not really a question. And I'm very sure I'll regret asking it, even before she answers. I don't want to know whatever she's about to say.

"Honestly, I thought I'd have more time to try and find a way around it all. Out of it," she says as blunt as possible. I should be thankful she trusts me enough at this point to be honest.

But my pride is stuck on the part where she wants to get out of being near me for any amount of time. Even if it means saving her precious family.

The irritation-I swear it's like I have no control over my own feelings at all-that was already starting to rise inside of me gets worse. I haven't even told her what I want, what I'm asking from her, and she's already trying to get out of it.
"But-" she starts again. Only I don't give her the space to take anything back.

"I guess I can change the plan and go arrest Tate instead," I cut her off. Whatever she'd been about to say next wasn't anything I wanted to hear, I'm sure.

I don't want to analyze the reasons behind what's digging into me right now, getting me past irritated or annoyed and straight to really pissed the fuck off with her. Some of them are normal, what gets me aggravated at everyone. But at least some of them, at least partial contributors, are reasons I won't admit even to myself.

Not worth the therapy I'd need after analyzing the truth. And with my threat, Roseanne shuts her mouth, just like I wanted her to. I wish the resulting silence felt better.

She's still on the line; I hear each measured breath, making me wish more and more that I'd gone to see her for this conversation instead so I could see what she's doing with her face. But she won't say a word. And her refusal to respond pushes me the rest of the way. For better or worse, she slips under my skin so easily.

"If being near me to help-which you agreed to by the way-is so awful, then you can forget the whole deal. Both you and your brother can end up in the same cell for all I care," I shout.

Yeah, I'm yelling into the phone that's gripped so tight in my hand I'm a little worried about cracking the plastic. And there are agents that can't resist their curiosity any longer, looking over computers and around walls to watch me. They're all waiting for an inevitable explosion. God damn it.

Why does she turn me into a grade A asshole alpha male this easily, this quickly? It's pathetic. I'm pathetic. Letting her mold me in her hands like clay.

So I do the only mature thing I can at this point. And I slam the phone down, hanging up on her just as she'd been about to finally say something back.

Her excuses and denials would only get me to that point that everyone in this room is hoping for. But I won't boil over. I won't do it. Not today. Not for her.

It feels good to be the one hanging up too. Good enough not to stand and shout at everyone still eyeing me.