"Rough day?" Her head whips to the sound of a familiar voice, meeting the purple hues of her lover. With Dallas now at her side, she sighs looking back to the front of her.
Amelia crosses her arms over her chest, leaning back further against the car. "Rough week if that.." She mutters, Dallas giving a light chuckle to her statement. He looks back towards the entrance of the club, then back to Amelia. "What's the scene here?" He asks.
"Cartel, they weren't as dead as I had thought however; I believe this was a set up. A warning for me." Her gaze falls back onto him, waiting for a response to combat or defend her theory.
Dallas' stare is held on her, unphased. "Why do you think that?" He questions.
She pauses for a moment, "The cartel was called 'Skinners' for over three decades since its creation. A year after I joined the force it was changed to 'WhispersBlood.'" There was no room in her mind for any other theory. This was meant for her to see, to be present in the entire operation. Yet why, what was the entire purpose?
Little to no one Amelia knew of her mothers criminal past. Only her, Dallas, and her father. Neither of them were under her radar of suspicion. The only other people who had known were dead. Six feet under in the ground and unable to mutter a word. It was always meant to be that way.
However, now the question lingered: Who had sworn Ricardo to secrecy?
"A definite connection," Dallas pauses, leaning back onto the car with his partner. "Did he spill anything to you of it?"
She shakes her head, "No, he said he was sworn to secrecy. As if it was a cult matter."
"I would definitely look back into this event, but don't push too hard on it." Dallas leans off of the car once more, turning to face Amelia. His stare holding concern, eyebrows furrowed over his eyes. "It may be a warning with dangerous things following it."
The words alone pull Amelia's stone cold expression to softened saddened features. Dallas was the only person besides her father who truly cared for her. Loved her, gave her security and protection, all the while respecting she was her own woman. He would never push her to do or not do something on her mind. Dallas would watch on the sidelines, and make sure she was alright in the aftermath.
Amelia turns to face Dallas, placing both of her hands on his cheeks. With heels on, it was easier for her to reach the soft feeling of his skin. Rubbing her thumbs in circles on the smooth surface of warm flesh. His lips curl into a smile as she touches him, placing his hands on her waist.
"I knew you'd understand.. You're the only one who ever does." Amelia sighs, letting Dallas' hands pull her closer to him. Having large arms wrap around the small of her back. He embraces her in the soft and vulnerable moment.
Dallas rubs small circles on her back, "Not only are you my partner romantically, you're a partner to me on the field. Any ambitions you have, I fully support them." His graceful and warming tone makes her feel relaxed again.
Gently pulling his cheeks down to her height, her lips press against his. Kissing him with the same passion she always gave, feeling the tightening of his hands around her. Dallas kisses back, slowly but just as longingly as she does. She's unable to pull away, enveloped by the increasing warmth of his being. His touch, his words, his entire existence. Dallas was the only thing to truly give her layers to the cold outside exterior.
Dallas pulls away, eyes fluttering open to look down at his lover. Amelia longed for more, but knew it wasn't the time. Clearly her throat, she mutters: "I love you." Eyes batting away from his gaze, embarrassed by her display.
Her ears reach the sound of his chuckle, before feeling a light kiss on the top of her head. "I love you too, little agent." He says proudly, pulling her gaze back to him with a leading hand.
The taller man cups her chin, giving her a warming smile. "Now let's get home. I'm sure your agents will take care of the necessary paperwork, no?" Amelia nods at his words, watching as Dallas pulls his arms from around her.
Before he is able to turn and walk away, she grabs onto his hand. Meeting with the beautiful color of lavender in his eyes. Amelia could never fathom how a man could look so effortlessly beautiful until she met Dallas. His parents would be proud of their son, regardless of who he became.
A sudden grip of her hand didn't phase him, he laughed lightly. Patting her hand with his other one, before turning away to lead her to their vehicle. There were always going to be eyes on the two, but this was a simple hand hold. She didn't care, their relationship had always been public. Dallas was a gem in her life, and even if it was hard to express it: She was grateful.
However, the moment the hand hold had begun: The knotting in her stomach began. The constant questions wrapped in each crevice of her skull. It was her job to solve cases, send those who deserved it to rot in a cell. Now, she had no fair idea of who could have sworn a powerful mafia man into secrecy. What sort of individual had that power? Whoever this person may be, it gave Amelia the rushing thoughts of different scenarios. Of capture, of death, of possible injuries sustained. Each and every scenarios worst than the last.
Imagery of the past repeating itself. The ribbons that neatly kept her life together, untangled by a ravenous fiend.
After the events of her past, she could never let such a thing happen again. A man completely ruined her, only to keep her as his own. With the collateral damage being the death of those around her. If another invoked the same spiral of her entire being: It would ruin her. Already pushed so far to the edge where no one would get close to her. Not for her sake, but for theirs. Already on edge of the unknown being, who knew more than surface level. A scary, and challenging move on her opponent's part.
Information only known to very few, now spoken by the unknown. Her mind would only continue to rattle, even as the car pulled off from the flashing lights of police cars. Void of sound, her ears filled with a soft ringing. It would bother her until she had it solved and put under wraps. She was not the type to let cases go on for longer than needed.
Victims needed their justice, and coming to her was the quickest and most swift way to do so. The normal police officers handled smaller cases, and yet took twice as long to bring the culprit to justice. Many times convincing the wrong person. Not Amelia, she was skilled in her craft. Having many assets physically and mentally to use getting what she wanted from her suspects. All would result in the person being behind bars, and the family able to grieve.
That had always been her destination from the moment her mother was killed in cold blood. To avenge those who would lose the same. Whether it be a lover, a friend, a family member: Amelia had understood their grief. Perhaps more than anyone else, losing six of the very people she held close to her. Some dead, others missing: Very few alive and thankful for her piece in their lives. The slim percent that we're alive and well, deeply resented her. She didn't blame them, what she had let into her life caused the destruction of families.
Amelia wished everyday she could go back, and never meet that cocky motorcycle riding criminal. A dashing smile, a confident wink. Brazen and bold ways of flirting, pulling the strings of her naive heath closer and closer. A fabrication of love in its true form: A curse.
Yet, there was always one message clear within the fog and mist.
Someone had set the trap blatantly, and Amelia had taken the bait. Almost like a challenge, and Amelia would never step down from a challenging mission. Not now, when it was so much more personal than ever before.
The one who would be the trap in the end, would be her unknown challenger. As the fox, became the bunny rabbit.