The air in Director Jack Bryant's FBI office was thick with tension. Alton Morant, his face a mask of furious betrayal, stood before him, the echoes of his outburst still hanging heavy in the silence. Calum's arrest had been a devastating blow, but Alton's visit was a raging uninvited storm.
"I told you to keep him away from Mariana," Alton roared, his voice raw with anger. "You failed." He slammed his fist on the desk, the sharp sound emphasizing his rage. His knuckles were white, his body rigid with barely controlled fury.
Jack, outwardly calm, felt a deep unease. He was shocked by Calum's actions, worried about the consequences, and acutely aware of his own precarious position. He needed to proceed carefully.
"Mr. Morant," Bryant began, his voice measured and even, "I assure you, I knew nothing of this. I specifically instructed Calum to stay away from your fiancée. Their meeting in the park may have been a coincidence."
Alton scoffed, the sound devoid of humor. "Coincidence? That man was stalking her! He had a plan of taking her again, a kidnapping plan!" The anger in his eyes was a burning inferno. Bryant's calm couldn't hide his shock and worry. He'd been caught off guard, and now he had to deal with the explosive fallout.
The Director sighed, trying to maintain his composure. "He didn't kidnapped her, Mr. Morant. We have no evidence he intended to harm her."
Alton's fury intensified. "You're finished,Mr. Director . Both you and your criminal son. I trusted you in order to protect her, and you let your son, your criminal son, out of prison! It was for your benefit, wasn't it? A convenient arrangement." His voice dripped with contempt.
"I'll make sure Calum rots in jail. He won't get away with this. And if you interfere, I will destroy you. I will ruin your position and get you out in your shitty job. Mark my words," he spat, the threat hanging in the air like a venomous cloud.
The Director listened to it carefully , the weight of Alton's words pressing down on him. He knew Alton meant every word. The man was consumed by protective rage, a desperate need to protect Mariana.The director understood; he'd seen the depth of Alton's love. But he also felt the sting of Alton's accusation. He hadn't anticipated Calum's actions, and the consequences were devastating.
"I understand your anger, Mr. Morant," He said, his voice softening slightly. "I'm equally upset. But we can still resolve this. I can talk to Calum, make him promise he'll never do anything like this again. He's a valuable asset to our investigations."
Alton cut him off, his voice cold and hard. "I don't care about your goddamn business with that bastard! See you in court, Director."
Alton turned and left, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving Jack alone in the oppressive silence, the weight of his failure pressing down on him. He was left to contemplate the destruction of his carefully built world, the consequences of a deal gone wrong, and the bitter taste of betrayal. He knew this was far from over. The damage was done, and the legal battle ahead would be brutal.
---
"You're insane, Calum!" Trae's words were a raw, untamed sound echoing in the prison visitation room. The words hung heavy, thick with fury and disbelief.
Calum sat still, his handcuffed hands on the worn wooden table inside that room. His gaze, fixed on a distant point on the white wall, avoided Trae's blazing eyes. Shame consumed him, a heavy weight between them. He was back in that uncomfortable, prison orange uniform that he never really liked, not that he had a choice to not wear it.
"Tell me, Calum," Trae pressed, his voice full of bitter frustration, "why are you so madly in love with that woman? What spell did she cast on you? You're completely under her influence! This is crazy! I can't handle it anymore. Look at yourself, don't you feel any pity? This isn't you, Calum. You're an idiot sometimes, but not this kind of idiot."
A torrent of anger and disappointment poured from Trae, a relentless wave crashing against Calum's stoicism. But Calum remained an island of icy stillness, unresponsive to the emotional storm. He was like a statue, his inner turmoil hidden behind a mask of impassivity.
Inside his mind, however, a different kind of battle raged. He was lost, adrift in a sea of regret and despair. Trae's words washed over him, unheard, unnoticed.
Like he was sleeping with his eyes wide open. He was in his own private hell, a solitary confinement of the heart. He was thinking of Mariana, the woman who dominated his every thought. The agonizing realization struck him: it was too late. Too late to tell Mariana how deeply he loved her, too late to bridge the gap created by her lost memories, her lost love for him.
The irony was a cruel twist of fate. Before, he had pushed her away, trying to protect her from his own turmoil, urging her to forget him. Now, stripped bare by his circumstances, he longed for her presence, for the comfort of her embrace. He craved the impossible – to turn back time, to undo the mistakes that had led him to this desolate place. He never truly understood the depth of his love for Mariana until he lost her, until the silence screamed louder than any words ever could. The emptiness was a constant, gnawing ache, a void that only her presence could fill. The weight of his unspoken words pressed down on him, a burden heavier than the prison walls themselves. He was a prisoner of his own silence, a captive of his lost love. The orange uniform felt like a shroud, a symbol of his despair and his utter failure. He felt a deep sense of regret, knowing that even if he were to be released, the pain of losing Mariana would remain.He wished he could have told her how much he loved her before it was too late.
Before she had forgotten the memories of her love for him.
Before it died and vanished.
***