He was all sharp edges with a brooding darkness that set your pulse racing. His eyes blue fathomless pools. It was like looking into a void. Ice cold.
He was a cold hearted assassin. She was trained to take him down.
A Dark AU Van McCann story (thi...
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The days following my encounter slipped by in a whirlwind of anxiety and denial. I felt like I was sleep-walking, the tenuous grip I had on reality getting weaker every time I tried to make sense of my confusing feelings.
My colleagues all thought that I was traumatised by something that had happened that night and in part that was true, but for very different reasons than whatever they could imagine. Apart from Jason of course. I had to endure his snide comments and inappropriate behaviour which was steadily getting worse. His wandering hands which would have earned him a sharp comment at the very least or a slap before were met by a pathetic weakening of my resistance. I hated myself for letting him get away with it, but in truth I was terrified by the thought of him causing trouble for me.
Paul tried to persuade me to move to a safe-house and lay low for a while, positive that Van would come back to 'finish what he'd started' but I refused. He eventually relented, so I now had an unmarked car sitting outside my apartment every night, and strict orders to report on my whereabouts at all times if I made a trip out. I felt like a prisoner in my own home, and having more time to sit around and think was driving me crazy. When I got wind of some valid intelligence that had been received about another hit expected in Paris, I found myself begging Paul to let me go, despite my better judgement.
"Please Paul, I'm losing my sanity here stuck behind a desk. I know you're worried about me but you can't mollycoddle me forever. I'm a fully trained agent and I can handle myself."
He looked conflicted as I paced in front of his desk. "Lyla, you know how I feel about this. I think your time might be better spent staying here in the office and working with Jason. He's making some real progress with mapping out where the people are based who are orchestrating all of this. If we can get to whoever's running this organisation it'll be like cutting the head off the snake."
The thought of spending time alone with Jason filled me with a sick kind of dread and I considered coming clean and telling Paul all about the harassment that I was enduring, but I was terrified that if I made life difficult for Jason he would retaliate and the shameful truth would somehow be uncovered.
I balled my hands into fists at my sides in pure frustration, stepping up to Paul's desk and looking at him with pleading eyes. "I can do this... please. Look, you said so yourself, no one has ever got so close to Van and walked away to tell the tale. I have... three times."
Paul raised his eyebrows. "Don't think you can let your guard down just because he's spared you before. Showing mercy isn't his style. Things are hotting up. They know we're closing in. That's why they're desperate to find out who our undercover agents are. Van will have strict orders to wipe out as many of us as he can."
My mind immediately pictured Van in a rage, fighting with his conscience about whether to kill me or not. The risk was real and absolute, I had no doubt about that. But there was something burning inside me which pushed the risk to one side. It was reckless and foolish but I just couldn't help myself. I felt out of control, like an addict craving a fix of the one thing that would more than likely be my demise.
