8:45 AM (GMT8)
Typing, that's all she ever did even so early in the morning. Unable to rest, not when things had begun to rise in front of her. Sat at the coffee table counter top, granite smooth to the touch. A cup of coffee by her side, still piping hot in her favorite mug. Laptop open in front of her, documents sprawled through tabs.
She hated looking back at this.
The images of her friends dead, slaughtered by a man she thought she loved. Birth father and step mother were slain for stepping into his process. Losing the people left to madness, hatred of her. Her hand had to be pulled, killing the man who she now despised.
Amelia knew she wasn't innocent, but she did what had to be done.
Even killing her grandfather, someone who had followed relentlessly behind her to fill his objective. Once her mother died, his mafia would fall to ruins without an heir to take over. Amelia was her kin, next in line: she never wanted a life like her mother.
Her mother let the darkness fester inside of her, indulge in the blood curdling screams of the damned. Whether they were innocent or guilty it didn't matter, she soaked in the blood of others. Amelia never would be like her mother, no matter what happened.
So looking back on the actions she had done was not unpleasant. Her hand was forced, even without the actions of her deceased lover. Amelia could remember the day as if it was yesterday.
The setting sun, shades of orange, pink, and red flowing endlessly through the sky. The wind blowing against her skin, bare skin. Pink strands of hair flowing against its current, splattered blood on the side of her face. In nothing but white undergarments, a pistol held in between her hands.
Her trigger finger itching to pull it.
A man once loving and comforting, now impulsive with insanity. An obsession rooted through months of control, a restraint she fought hard to the very end. A beautiful sculpture of a man, now turned ugly by the demons that swelled within him. She couldn't recognize him after his confession of murder, of feeling nothing for her. Only once everyone was gone, did he believe his feelings were true.
He lay there, in front of her: hand shaking to cover the bullet hole shot through his stomach. Eyes of sapphire wide, looking up at her.
He calls for her, begging her to let him live. Echoes of her name from his lips, pleas of forgiveness. Amelia knew from the moment she had discovered he had killed her friends, her family, the ones she loved: she would take her revenge.
She knew it was immoral, others around her had suffered greatly at the hands of one man.
It was his death date, an empty field was where he would die. Damned by the slaying with his own two hands, the blood he spilled.
Hoarse whispers of her name, hand extended to grab onto her in any way he could.
"Go to Hell, for all you've done to me."
It was only her who walked away from that abandoned building, that empty field. Covered in his blood.
Amelia sighs, leaning forward to grab her cup of coffee to take a sip. After doing so, her cup is placed in front of her. Her fingers back to typing on the keys, reading glasses pushed up onto the bridge of her nose.
After all these years, Amelia had no idea how she even became an agent in the first place. A record of her actions would have been plastered on her back the moment she appeared. She wouldn't have ever gotten the chance to be in the force at all, she would be behind bars.
It bothered her, not knowing how something so large slipped through the cracks. Someone close to her had to have done something to push it under the rug, but who? Matter of fact, how could they have possibly done anything to prevent the exposure of her past. Over the last couple of days she had tried to speak to Dallas of the issue, to no avail.
Amelia closes her laptop, looking out of the window lit from the bright sun. She would get answers from him, they were alone in their own home. No one to interrupt, nothing to go wrong during the conversation.
Elegantly she crossed her legs over one another, leaning forward to hold the cup of coffee in her hands. Eyes just staring towards the glowing scenery, the business of the day. It calmed her, it was different from New York.
All she needed was a moment before rising from the chair, putting the empty coffee cup in the sink. Walking towards the bedroom she shared with Dallas, peaking into the doorframe. He was still asleep, lazily sprawled out over both sides of the mattress. Lightly snoring, covered, pulling halfway up his torso. Beautiful, basked under the sun's warm embrace.
Hands press onto the bed, sitting herself down on her side. Trying her best not to let the bed creak, disturbing his slumber. Amelia planned to wake him, leaning forward to nudge his arm.
The man stirs, coming to his senses as his eyes flutter open. Rubbing his hands on his eyes, stretching with a groan.
"Dallas.. Good Morning." She says softly, a sweet coo as his eyes focus on her.
He groans once more, sitting up. "Amelia. What time is it?"
Amelia leans closer to him, body facing towards his direction. "Eight a.m..We need to talk."
The words catch his attention, it seems in an instant his sleepy daze disappears. Coming closer to her, grabbing onto her hands. "About?" Is all he says, eyebrows raising.
It was now or never.
She clears her throat, keeping eye contact with her lover. "The records.."
Dallas pauses, "Amelia, what are you talking about?"
"I never realized this until now, why are there no records of that day?" The question comes out quiet, the young woman squeezing onto his hands. " It was as if that day was wiped from history."
Amelia lied through her teeth, she had thought about this for far too long. It had taken her so long to build up the courage to ask, and yet it felt as if the timing was worse than ever. His stare was confused, eyes glossed with concern. She felt her heart racing in her chest, it felt hard to breathe.
She nervously laughs, looking away from Dallas. "I committed two counts of murder, and maybe an attempted murder. How am I an agent?" The grip on his hands gets tighter. "How..am I not in jail?"
Silence bounces off the walls, in this moment you could hear a pin drop. The sound of light breathing, the way her heart thumped against her chest. Amelia was sure he could hear it, his eyes were locked on the side of her face. Even without her gaze on him, his stare was a weight on her. She knew it was there, she tried her best not to react until he gave an answer.
"I erased the files, anything known of that day is gone."
Her head whips to look at him. Dallas' facial expression was stone cold, serious in every aspect. He meant what he said, it was him. He was the one who willingly swept her actions under the rug.
"What? You-"
He scoots forward to her, "When you finally got your degree I couldn't see you becoming an agent with your past record." The striking stare was mixed with a soft and nurturing tone.
Why had he not told her about this before, why did he leave her wondering all these years as to how she was able to stay a higher member of society? His answer left her more questions, something she had hoped would not be the case.
Dallas sighs, "So I paid a large sum to an old friend who owed me a favor. He erased any information other than your training from the records." He pauses, rubbing his thumbs on the top of her hands. "I also didn't want the agency to believe I knew, and trained a possible felon. My reputation would have been destroyed the moment you set foot in the police force."
His answer made a lot more sense than she had expected.
Amelia nods slowly, " I see."
Yet, something didn't feel right. Something felt like it was missing from the puzzle: a missing piece.
"Are you telling me the truth?" His words catch him, eyes widening.
Dallas scoffs amused, "What?" Amelia wasn't amused however, she was serious about this.
She waits before asking again: "I said, are you telling me the truth."
The question sets in, his facial expressions shifting to serious. Moving in his position, he sighs with a head shake. "Of course I am, nothing but it."
Amelia trusted Dallas, but she did the same with the last man she gave her heart to. Dallas was nowhere near as insane, as twisted as the last but old habits die hard. If he was going to fuck her over, she would catch it before he made his first move. Something like this had been hidden for so long, she had to make sure he was being truthful with her.
His eyes showed no deceit, his stare held no malice. She trusted him, it was okay to keep her walls down.
Hands peel away from one another, Amelia turning to get off of the bed. Steps moved towards the door frame to exit their room but she looked back at him. Her hand grips around the doorframe, there's silence between the two.
"That bastard Richard deserved a bullet to his head, remember that."
"I know." A short response, that's all she wanted right now.
Amelia nods, "I'm heading out for a jog. I'll have my earpiece on if you need to contact me."
The smile pulls on his lips, "Be safe." Dallas gives her a little wave, to which her own lips form a smile.
"I will Dallas, don't stay in bed too long. You won't want to leave it." She jokes, before heading back out of their bedroom and into the kitchen.
Opening the fridge she grabs a water bottle, grabbing her earpiece from beside her closed laptop and placing it into her ear. With swift motion she puts her hair into a ponytail, grabbing her phone and heading out of her condo.