A Dangerous Life (EDITING)

Chapter Three

"We need to search every square inch of this place. Inside cereal boxes, underneath paintings, everywhere. We can't afford to miss something.  I need this place tore apart!" Collin orders, while snapping his gloves against his hands.

He's not the director, but he could be one. Collin has the seriousness, leadership, and pretty much anything else you could think of. 

This victim must have broken this guy's heart. This guy loved her... I mean seriously loved her. Then she goes and shuts him down? Gives him the friend-zone excuse? Hell, even that would piss me off. A broken heart is the worst pain you could ever feel.

If they broke my heart, I would break their heart. They wouldn't understand. They don't understand. Love is a magical emotion, and it deserves to be treated with care. You can't just throw it around like it's nothing. It's something... remarkable. It's something... intriguing.

If I were to be rejected, I would be filled with anger. The rage would be unbearable to control. They deserve to feel the pain that you feel. The pain of getting your heart ripped out of your chest and stepped on with stilettos. Like some sort of sick-minded twist of Cinderella.

"What do you think, Alaska?" Collin asks, breaking me free from the darkest room in my mind. I need to keep that locked up. 

"Our stalker must have had his heart broken by our victim. If he stalked her, he must have been madly in love, right? One day, he confesses his undying love for her. She ends up taking it and smashing his dreams of them being together. Throws all the broken pieces away. Wouldn't that make you seriously angry? To feel so... betrayed? To feel so... worthless?" I respond while digging through the refrigerator.

"Sounds like you come from experience, Miss Baker." He responds, attempting to scratch the surface of my past.

I ignore his comment and continue searching for a clue. An answer.

You can't let him in. He can't know the past. He will run. He will be disgusted.

As I continue to scramble through this fridge, all I find is the kind of food a yogi would eat. He is decently lean, but not lean enough to be a bodybuilder.

"Find anything out of place or something that doesn't sit with you quite right? There's got to be something in here. We have to find at least a little piece of evidence." Collin questions, as he continues to rummage the living space.

"Nope, I haven't found a single thing that leads him to the murder," I respond, as I squint my eyes and scan the apartment.

You got rejected after pouring your heart out. I got rejected after pouring my heart out. I think about how I'm going to get revenge. The moment you rejected me plays again and again in my mind. I can't sleep because of you. You're the disease. You give me no choice. I have to get rid of you. I can't get you out of my thoughts, but I can take you out of my reality. 

"Check underneath the mattress in his bedroom. That's an incredibly common hiding spot for things." I shout, running to this guy's bedroom. As if someone else hasn't already checked that obvious spot, right?

I hid things that mattered to me the most underneath my mattress, so she couldn't get to them. She couldn't take away everything from me. She didn't have total control. 

I scan the bedroom, even though it's as plain as a quarantine room. You can clearly tell that he wasn't a homey kind of guy. I spot the mattress in the corner of the room and flip it over like a pancake. 

Springs... springs... and more springs. What else would you expect to find?

There it is. This is what we have been waiting for, ladies and gentlemen. That single piece of evidence. The first piece of evidence for my career as a federal agent. This better be good. 

It's a folded-up piece of stationary paper with burn marks around the edges. Like someone had tried to burn this paper, but failed. With my gloves on, I gently pick it up and open it. 

That's when I knew there's more at stake here. We have just scratched the surface of something darker. Perhaps, something even more dangerous.