The New Agent: Secrets

Chapter One (Edited)

(This book is not for the faint of heart. Read at your own will.)

(This book is undergoing an edit. I'm hoping I can manage to finish it this time)

I lay beneath sheer silk sheets, eyes focused on the whirring fan blades above me. One. Two. Three. The counting does little to ease my racing thoughts. Raising my arms, I press the palms of my heads against my eyes. It's useless.

It's my first night in Virginia. Part of me can't helps but wonder if this is a mistake. A new job...a new life...but same ole me. How long will it take my new peers to spy the cracks in the walls I've spent meticulously building over the past fifteen years?

My former therapist says I have insomnia. Well, no shit. That's not exactly a surprise. I've been dealing with a near sleepless existense since I was old enough to walk. There's a reason she's my former therapist. She'd advised against this move...against this new job. She claims it will bring up more of my past that I am ready to deal with. She says I will crack.

Maybe she's right. Even now, I can feel the crawl of absolute terror making it's way up my spine. These aren't your run of the mill peers. They spend their lives digging into the past of others...of finding out what makes people tick. It is their literal job to peer behind the curtains of a person's life. And I am serving myself up to them on a silver platter.

It was never my plan to join the BAU. Hell, I'd never even intended to join the FBI. But...it's too late to turn back now. It's not as if I can go back to my old job. Let's just say I'd burned a lot of bridges when I'd applied to the BAU. My bosses were none too thrilled. To them, I was a treasure to be hoarded. To take advantage of.

With a grunt of dismay, I fling the covers away. I glance at the clock. It's one in the morning. I've spend the last hour running these stupid rabbit trails in my brain. I shrug. Oh well. I've got work tomorrow. But I've operated on less sleep than this before. I can go days before the lack of sleep begins to affect me.

I'm already dressed for a run. I always dress like I'm going for a run. It saves me the time when I eventually give up on chasing sleep. I'll feel better once I'm covered in sweat, panting so hard my chest will ache from it.

I slide a pair of running shoes on before I'm out the door, making sure to grab and stuff my cellphone into my pockets before I do. It wouldn't be the first time I've forgotten it. I don't bother with a warm up. Shoving my earbuds in, I hit the concrete steps in front of my building hard. I take off in long strides, my body quickly falling into rhythm.

I've always been a runner. My highschool had attempted to seduce me to their track team but, unfortunately, I didn't play well with others back in the day. I still don't. But it's something I am working on. Maybe.

It doesn't take long before that friendly and familiar burn begins to caress the back of my legs. One mile, two miles, three miles....I soon loose track of how far I have gone. It doens't matter. My phone is equipped with GPS so finding my way bcak isn't an issue. Cars blur beside me on the not so busy road.

There's very little foot traffic this late in the morning so the sidewalk is mine for the taking. One of the perks of running this late. You don't have to worry about annoyed peditrisians side eyeing you when you accidentally jostle them.

A dull ache begins to bubble in the pit of my stomach. Gritting my teeth, I push it down. I'm not ready to be done. I'm not willing to go back to the horror that is my reality these days. Sweat beads at my forehead, dripping down into my eyes. My body is screaming at me to stop. I ignore it.

My vision blurs. I don't stop. Music blares against my eardrums, drowning out the fierce thumping of my heart against my ribcage. My lungs scream in fury, my muscles desperately begging me for some relief.