Chapter Text
The sound of heeled boots walking across concrete echoed down the hallway—a reminder of just how desolate and cold Stillwater Prison was.
Click. Click. Click. Click.
For the lone figure that walked down the otherwise empty corridor, Stillwater was a place she loathed more than anything else in this world. A memory resurfaced from a year and a half ago.
“There’s a monster that wakes up inside of me and it rages, demanding that I burn your city to the ground for all that it has taken from me.”
Caitlyn Kiramman was not going to assume that her rage could be as deep as one that old, but after her first visit to Stillwater, she could understand the desire to watch an inferno destroy something that represented the pain that hadn’t left her in nine months. Not even these visits did anything to lessen it.
She shook off that line of thinking. At the moment, it would only serve as a distraction and her weekly chat called for nothing but her full attention.
As she came upon the only door at the end of the hallway, she paused outside of it and braced herself for what she was about to see. One deep breath later and Caitlyn went inside, closing the door behind her.
It was a small room, no more than ten by ten feet, no windows, with a singular light that hung over the two chairs that framed a table. Seated on one of the chairs, hands cuffed behind her back, was the woman she came every week to visit.
Wide, familiar gray blue eyes, one of them blackened, met Caitlyn’s. The whole world fell silent as Vi stared at her for a split second until she exploded out of her chair and rushed at Caitlyn.
The sound of Caitlyn’s sharp inhale as Vi’s lips messily met hers was lost in Vi’s whimper. There were weeks when Caitlyn truly believed the only thing that kept her sane was the chance to hear that sound one more time.
Neither woman spoke as their kiss became more desperate, as if they would never have a chance to do this again. Caitlyn ignored the voice that told her that was a very real possibility and ran her fingers through Vi’s longer hair. She was unable to control herself as Vi bit at Caitlyn’s bottom lip, causing the hand intertwined in pink hair to pull at it ever so slightly, tearing Vi’s lips from hers.
“Fuck, Cupcake, get these off of me!” Vi demanded out of breath.
The sound of metal clinking together filled the room as she pulled her wrists apart, as if hoping her incredibly impressive muscles could break the handcuffs. Caitlyn took in a much needed breath and knelt down behind Vi while pulling something out of one of her side pouches. She unfolded a very small set of lockpicks and went to work.
Vi’s stuttered, rapid breathing above her did nothing to help her trembling fingers, desperate for them to return to her girlfriend’s body.
“Caitlyn,” Vi strangled out.
Caitlyn swallowed hard at the plea that laced around her name. She swore she could even smell Vi’s arousal from her position. After what felt like eternity, but was only seconds, there was a quiet click and Vi pulled one of her hands out, not even bothering to allow Caitlyn to free her other wrist.
She practically yanked Caitlyn to her feet and pulled her back into another frenzied kiss. As Vi’s hands ran up and down her torso, her fingers became caught on something on the lapel of Caitlyn’s jacket.
Vi pulled away to see what she was touching. Her face twisted into a snarl so severe, Caitlyn’s breath hitched in her chest. She looked down.
Her Enforcer badge. Disgust roiled up inside the Piltovan and she grabbed the offensive metal and ripped it off. Not giving it a second glance, she threw it across the room, where it hit the wall with a satisfying thunk.
“I fucking hate this uniform,” Vi muttered as she attacked Caitlyn’s neck.
Caitlyn moaned at the sensation of Vi nipping at her skin.
“Then take it off,” she ordered.
Vi practically growled and immediately did as she was told. Caitlyn wished she could return the favor, but Vi had only once let Caitlyn take her clothes off in the whole six months since she entered Stillwater. Caitlyn had nearly stalked out of the room pants-less to shoot the Chief Warden when she saw the bruises that littered Vi’s body. Since then, Vi has kept her prisoner uniform on, as she truly worried that Caitlyn would give into temptation. Caitlyn didn’t fault her, for even she wasn’t so sure she wouldn’t do it one day.
Their love making, as it always was in this gods forsaken hell hole, was fast, desperate, and never fully satisfying. Even though Caitlyn lived for these cherished few moments with Vi, it was never enough.
As Caitlyn came down from her orgasm a mere five minutes later, Vi’s fingers still in her and her thigh wet from Vi’s own release, Caitlyn clenched her eyes shut in order to keep the tears that begged to be released at bay. She never allowed herself to cry in front of Vi in these moments. Vi, who only ever wanted to make Caitlyn happy, couldn’t afford to be distracted in Stillwater and Caitlyn knew that showing Vi her true feelings would prove to be a distraction. The ache of loneliness that weighed heavily in Caitlyn's chest was chased away in these precious thirty minutes a week she had with Vi, but she knew it was only temporary. There was nothing her or Vi could do about their current situation that wasn’t already being done.
This would have to be enough. For now, Caitlyn thought as Vi gently kissed her.
For a few exquisite moments, it was as if no one else in the world existed. There was nothing except for the cold, metal door against Caitlyn’s bare back and the scent of axle grease and a hint of the Gray that always clung to Vi. She let them engulf her senses as she allowed the awful feeling of her week wash off of her. Large arms encircled her waist and rough, calloused hands rubbed at her back soothingly. Caitlyn never grew tired of how someone so strong could treat her with such tenderness that she often felt like she would weep from how loved she felt. Vi gently pulled up Caitlyn’s pants, lowered them to the floor, and wrapped Caitlyn in her arms.
“How was your week, Cupcake?” Vi whispered as she slowly peppered Caitlyn’s face with soft kisses.
“Unless you count Mohan thinking that I’m a monstrous bitch, nothing else is new,” Caitlyn muttered in frustration, tracing the ink on one of Vi’s arm tattoos.
The tattoos had been a pleasant surprise for Caitlyn three months ago and she showed her love of them by riding Vi’s fingers and gripped at the newly inked skin through an impressive three orgasms in as many minutes.
Vi hummed. “I know it’s hard, but that’s a good thing, Cait. Grayson picked him to be your partner for a reason.”
“Easy for you to say. Sevika knows why she’s in here with you,” Caitlyn said with a scoff. “Mohan probably believes his partner is currently in here beating a defenseless prisoner.”
She cursed herself as gray blue eyes softened in sympathy.
Keep it together, Kiramman, Caitlyn ordered herself.
“I’m sorry. That’s not fair. It’s just been a stressful week,” she admitted quietly. “Everything going okay in here?”
As gently as she could, Caitlyn ever so faintly ran her fingers near the black eye Vi was sporting. It was jarringly offset by the crooked grin Vi gave her.
“You should see the other guy,” she said, arrogance dripping from her voice.
Caitlyn felt a fresh wave of arousal wash over her at the cocky tone, but she pushed it down. They only had twenty more minutes.
Never enough time, she lamented.
“I almost forgot,” Caitlyn said. “Vander told my mom to pass on that Powder has made a breakthrough on a new design to help me. Apparently it’s some kind of recording device? I’m not sure how it works, but I’ll be finding out more next week.”
She didn’t need to see her to know that Vi’s eyes soften with love and pride at the mention of her sister. She squeezed Caitlyn in thanks.
“Atta girl,” she murmured into Caitlyn’s hair.
There were a few more moments of blissful silence. If Caitlyn tuned everything out but Vi, she could pretend they were at the Manor on the bench by her bedroom window or even on their favorite beach in Noxus. Anywhere other than Stillwater.
“Sevika and I might have something,” Vi stated seriously, pulling Caitlyn out of her daydream. “Marcus’ assistant was here a few days ago to meet with Stilton.”
“The Chief Warden? Why?”
“It wasn’t a long visit. Sevika created a distraction shortly after the assistant left so I could sneak into his office,” Vi explained. “There was an opened letter from Marcus on the desk. It called for the immediate release of an inmate named Yaris along with a ‘small donation to Stillwater Prison’s Prisoner Activity Fund.’”
“Do you know him?” Caitlyn asked.
Vi shook her head. “Lots of people here and we have never all been together in one place before. I asked around, but without Sevika with me this week, I need to be careful.”
Caitlyn’s brow furrowed. “Where is Sevika?”
Vi laughed humorlessly. “The woman started a damned riot to get me into Stilton’s office. She’s been in solitary for the last several days.”
Caitlyn felt fear prickle in her chest at the thought of Vi without Sevika.
Her girlfriend read her easily, as she always could. “Hey, it’s okay. I was fine the first few months in here without her. I can last a few days.”
Caitlyn gave Vi an exasperated look. “We had to send Sevika back into prison as your backup because you missed two weeks in a row due to being in the infirmary.”
“I was doing fine,” Vi protested.
Caitlyn clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth. “’Even the finest sword plunged into—’”
“’—salt water will rust.’ Okay, Ambessa,” Vi interrupted her with a teasing smirk.
Caitlyn rolled her eyes, but continued saying, “you needed someone in here to watch your back. I can escape back to my apartment when my work day is done. You have no such luxury. I’m glad Vander and my mom agreed and that Sevika was willing.”
Vi didn’t say anything and, despite her words to the contrary, Caitlyn knew Vi was glad Sevika was in Stillwater with her.
They spent the next several minutes planning out their next steps as she promised to wait for Sevika to be released from solitary and Caitlyn said she’d look into Yaris. Far too soon, however, their time had run out and Caitlyn knew she needed to leave.
“You be careful out there, okay? Don’t give Mohan a hard time,” Vi said as she held Caitlyn tight.
Caitlyn nuzzled into Vi’s neck, taking one more inhale of the woman she loved. It would be another week before she could see her again.
“I’ll try. It’s hard to sit there and take his subtle preachy jabs without blurting out that I’m not actually a corrupt Enforcer,” she replied.
Vi hummed sympathetically. “He’ll still watch your back. He respects Grayson too much to go against the last orders she gave him.”
Caitlyn nodded and, pushing down her heart yelling at her not to leave, stepped away from Vi to pull on her shirt and jacket. When she looked up, Vi was holding her badge out to her.
Caitlyn glared at the gold metallic object, but ignored the sickening feeling in her gut as she put it back on. She then went through her least favorite part of their charade: placing the handcuffs back on Vi. She did so as gently as she could and, after the final click, she kissed Vi’s tattooed shoulder.
“One week at a time, baby,” Vi whispered.
Caitlyn leaned her forehead against the nape of Vi’s neck and nodded against it.
“One week at a time. Tell me.”
“If I need out, next time I see you, the code word is pansies. Now you,” Vi said, her voice thick with emotion.
“If I need out, I go to my mother, the code word is knight.”
Vi sat down on the chair she was on when Caitlyn came in. As she looked down at her, Caitlyn brushed her thumb across Vi’s cheek and then forced herself to walk out the door and towards the exit.
At the top of the elevator, Mohan waited for her, just like he always did. A broad shouldered man in his mid forties with tanned skin and graying dark hair, Mohan was someone Caitlyn both respected and was confounded by. He seemed to want to do what Grayson did, to be the antithesis of the corruption that riddled Piltover’s law enforcement, but he also seemed incredibly cynical of the system he both served and abhorred.
Having screwed her face into one of cold frustration on the ride up, Caitlyn stalked past him, head held high and shoulders pulled back. Mohan followed her. He often deferred to her despite his age and experience, which she knew was instinctual for him given her last name.
The thought of her last name sent a slice of pain through her, but she shoved it away. No need to be thinking of such unpleasant thoughts now.
“Any information?” Mohan asked in his smooth, baritone voice.
“As usual, inmate 516 seems to be keen on wasting our time,” Caitlyn replied in a clipped tone. “I may suggest solitary if we don’t get anything soon.”
“I still believe she doesn’t know anything about the smuggling operation,” Mohan said as they walked out of the prison doors and towards the cable cars.
It was always freezing on the small, man made isle Stillwater sat on. The sun had fully set and the wind off the Shurima Isthmus was as brutal as it was icy.
“She is well connected to the woman who we know set up sending contraband items into the prison. Sevika needed a contact and Lanes is the most obvious one. Speaking of, did you get anything out of Sevika?” Caitlyn asked, shivering in the cold.
He shook his head. “Nothing, as usual. Sevika refuses to say anything at all.” Caitlyn hummed, but didn’t reply, which Mohan took that as a sign to keep speaking. “Perhaps we should switch up which prisoners we talk to.”
The idea of not seeing Vi made Caitlyn’s heart twist in near panic.
“No,” she replied evenly, almost bored. “I know I can get something out of her. Patience is a virtue, Mohan, and I am more patient than she is.”
The next cable car arrived and several Wardens for the overnight shift exited it. As Caitlyn and Mohan stepped on the car and, alone in it, started on the way back to the Wharf District.
Mohan clearly wasn’t done with the conversation like Caitlyn assumed.
“And you still maintain it has nothing to do with all those rumors of the two of you disappearing out of Piltover for several months, followed by a bad falling out upon your return?” he asked.
Caitlyn’s heart twisted at the memory of the public dressing down she gave Vi nine months ago. The scalding hot shower she nearly burned her whole body with after did nothing to get rid of the disgust she felt towards herself for the insults she hurled at the woman she loved.
She leveled Mohan with a severe glare, a genuine one this time. He knew how she felt about comments regarding her personal life, especially of her time before she was an Enforcer. He raised his hands in surrender.
“My apologies, Officer Kiramman,” he replied and then said nothing else the rest of the way back.
The hour long walk back to Caitlyn’s apartment was the second worst part of the days she visited Vi—the first was leaving that ten by ten room.
She did her best to keep her head high, but the hurt she felt from the looks of disgust and anger she received from Zaunites when they saw her badge had not lessened over time. Still, she wouldn’t break. Couldn’t. Vi was counting on her maintaining her cover. The faster her and Vi achieved their goals, the sooner Vi could leave Stillwater.
Mohan, who lived in the opposite direction she did, bade her goodbye and walked towards the smaller northern bridge to get home. Caitlyn wound her way through the Industrial District of Zaun and used the southern bridge. There, she crossed into her home city and followed the river until she was south of New Piltover.
Gates Village, as it was colloquially known as, mainly housed the people who worked at the Sun Gates that towered over it. It was considered the working class neighborhood of Piltover and the only place Caitlyn could afford to live. She wasn’t even a year into her job as an Enforcer and so her salary couldn’t have afforded her anywhere near the luxury she was used to, which became apparent to anyone who stepped foot in her apartment. A Spartan studio space with no decorations or even a plant to brighten it up, just how Caitlyn wanted it. No distractions. This was a place to eat and sleep, that was it.
After throwing her keys and her badge on the table next to her door, Caitlyn immediately went into the bathroom to shower the day off of her. The pipes for the shower stuttered out lukewarm water at best, but after six months since it started, Caitlyn was used to it, especially since she was rarely in it for more than five minutes. Once she was out, she robotically dressed in black leggings, a dark green sweater, an old ratted cloak, and threw her hair up in a messy pony. Without bothering to check her appearance, Caitlyn grabbed her keys and the bag she always kept by her front door. Then—after only ten minutes since she arrived home—she left.
While it wasn’t late, it always felt like it whenever she went down into the fissures. As she descended further into the depths of Entresol, the sky above disappeared in the haze of neon lights and the Gray.
Thank gods Ambessa was able to procure plenty of Gray to keep up my acclimatization training, Caitlyn thought, not for the first time as she exited onto the fourteenth level. Between that and her continued work as an Enforcer, she could now go quite a long time within the fissures without her breather. However, she still always kept it on her in case of emergency and for extra protection from any eyes that would recognize her.
With her hood up and the breather on, Caitlyn made her way through the now very familiar streets of the Lanes.
Last time she spoke with Vander three months ago, he gave her an update on the status of his home. Benzo had been doing an admirable job keeping things together, but he wasn’t the Hound. It had only been a year and a half since Vander had become a councilor and the less scrupulous traders continued to attempt to take advantage of his absence from the Lanes. He was down there on a weekly basis, but that was wholly different from living among them. Overall, the tentative thread that held the black market together remained, for which Caitlyn was grateful. She did not want to have to tell Vi that her home was no longer what it used to be while she was stuck in prison.
Caitlyn pushed through the streets thick with people, shoving down the spike of anger and fear anytime she saw purple eyes flash through the crowd. Shimmer use, thanks to the “Zaunite Community Fund,” was at an all time high and not even Vander could have kept it out the Lanes indefinitely.
Pushing the thought from her mind, Caitlyn approached a very familiar door and knocked on it. The peephole opened and a single dark brown eye squinted at her.
“Business or pleasure?” grumbled a deep, harsh voice.
“I like to mix it up,” Caitlyn responded by rote.
Same coded language as always. She was here alone. The peephole closed and, after a few locks were undone, the door swung open. An impressively large man gestured for Caitlyn to enter. As she did, she nodded at him.
“Thank you, Miguel,” she muttered and confidently strode through the beaded doorway that led to a hallway beyond the foyer.
Ignoring the sounds of giggling and a few muffled moans from beyond closed doors, Caitlyn made her way down the corridor and up the stairs at the far end. She climbed two floors and opened another door that revealed yet another hallway. There, at the very end of it, standing at attention next to a door with a cast iron “7” nailed to a red heart, was a familiar face.
“Good evening, young Kiramman,” Grayson stated, her gravelly voice like a balm to Caitlyn’s nerves.
“Evening, Grayson. I hope you didn’t run into any trouble on the journey down,” she replied.
The former sheriff shook her head. “She’s waiting for you.”
Caitlyn paused outside the door and took a deep breath. The mix of anxiety, dread, anticipation, and anger swirled in her, the calming breath having done nothing to stop it. After a moment, she pushed open the door and shut it behind her. It was a simple room with a bed, deep red wallpaper, and plush white carpeting. The only other furniture in the room, which didn’t match the bedpost, was occupied.
Cassandra Kiramman looked, as ever, poised and confident, as if secretly meeting her daughter in a brothel after she visited her undercover protégé in prison was perfectly normal. Although, Caitlyn admitted, it had been normal for them the last six months.
Caitlyn pulled down her hood and took off her mask. She stared at her mother, who was dressed in a similar fashion to her, as she sat at a small table with a chessboard set up for a new match.
“Hello, Caitlyn,” her mother greeted.
“Mother,” Caitlyn replied evenly.
She sat down opposite of Cassandra, in front of the white side of the chessboard. Ever since their first time meeting at Babette’s six months ago, her mother had, for the first time in her life, allowed Caitlyn to make the opening moves of their game. Caitlyn never asked why since she suspected that Cassandra would not answer her.
Without a single word, Caitlyn picked up her king’s pawn and moved it forward two spaces. For several moments, the women sat in silence as they moved their pieces back and forth. Once Cassandra took the first of Caitlyn’s pieces, the pawn she opened the game with, she spoke.
“Did everything go well with Violet today?” she asked.
Caitlyn could feel her mother’s eyes on her, but instead of meeting them, glared at her pawn that now sat on the side of the board.
“Yes. Her and Sevika have a lead on something,” she finally responded, immediately moving her queen forward five spaces, endangering Cassandra’s king. “Check.”
Her mother calmly moved a knight in front of her king, which opened up Caitlyn’s queen to being taken by her bishop if she didn’t backpedal.
“On shimmer?” Cassandra posed curiously.
Caitlyn stared at the board, trying to see several moves ahead, but knew there was one option if she wanted to save her queen. She pulled it back three spaces, annoyed.
“Not sure. Marcus bribed the Chief Warden to release a prisoner named Yaris. Vi doesn’t know who he is, but if Marcus is interested, I’ll find out something,” Caitlyn explained.
She waited for her mother to make her move, but she didn’t. Caitlyn finally looked up and blue eyes looked at her worryingly.
“You are thinner than you were a few weeks ago, Caitlyn. Are you unwell?” she asked, her tone full of motherly concern.
Caitlyn clenched her jaw instinctually, but then forced herself to relax. “I’m fine, mother. It’s just been a stressful few weeks. I am unhappy with my lack of progress on Marcus.”
Her mother clicked her tongue on the back of her teeth. “You will not gain any progress if you do not take care of yourself. Are you sure that’s all it is?”
“What else would it be?” Caitlyn challenged.
Cassandra gave her daughter a knowing look. “If you think I am deaf to the rumors that continue to swirl around your cover story, then you underestimate me, sweetheart.”
Caitlyn bit her tongue to avoid snapping at her mother. An urge she had every time someone brought up the reason for why they had to meet at a brothel in the depths of the Undercity rather than the Kiramman Manor.
“I’m not sure what there is to be listening for,” Caitlyn forced herself to say calmly. “I am still a disgrace to the family name. Nothing has changed in nine months.”
Caitlyn could still picture the headlines in every newspaper in both Zaun and Piltover. She couldn’t have avoided them if she wanted to.
“Kiramman Heiress Caught Selling Family Secrets to Noxus”
“Prodigal Daughter Disowned by Councilor Kiramman in Recent Scandal”
“Whirlwind Scion Romance Ends in Heartbreak as Kiramman Heiress Disgraces Family Name”
Caitlyn pulled herself back to the present and tempestuously eyed her mother.
“Your move.”
Cassandra held her gaze for a moment longer, before returning to the board to move one of her pawns forward, fortifying her king. Caitlyn felt an old, lifelong annoyance tug at her as she realized her mother was, once again, seeing something in her moves that she couldn’t see in her opponent’s.
“How’s dad?” Caitlyn asked quietly after a few more moves.
“He is well. Misses you every day, of course,” her mother answered. “He says to tell you that he has created a new shooting course for you to try out when this is all done. He has spent the last two months planning a trip with all of us and Vi’s family to our Hunting Grounds once she has been released.”
Caitlyn couldn’t help but smile at the news. “I am glad he is staying busy.”
Her father’s recovery was slow, but—thankfully—without any issues. He would need a cane for the remainder of his life, but whenever she had written to him while in Noxus, he brushed aside her concerns.
“I am more distinguished now than I ever have been. I even had a cane handmade from Ionian glass in cerulean and white. Quite dashing, if I do say so myself. Vi will have some competition at the next Kiramman Gala, I dare say.”
While pleased that her father’s sense of humor hadn’t changed, she worried that he was hiding any turmoil he felt after the attack on the Manor. Her mother, however, assured her that she was taking care of him and not to worry, which was easier said than done.
She would just have to trust Cassandra was telling the truth. A bitter pill to swallow.
“I shall ask Mel to look into Yaris,” her mother stated as she moved a pawn into the center, putting her in control of that area of the board.
Caitlyn’s side was looking more and more sparse.
“I can do it,” she said. “If he was in Stillwater, then he would likely be from Zaun. I have a few contacts I can squeeze.”
Her mother shook her head. “No. Between your focus on Marcus and maintaining your cover, you will spread yourself too thin if you do this. Mel will handle it.”
Anger welled up in Caitlyn. She grabbed her rook and aggressively took Cassandra’s bishop. Her mother met her gaze and gave her an almost disappointed look, which further incensed her daughter.
“You are being reckless, Caitlyn. A calm mind allows for clear solutions to be seen. If you constantly react instead of anticipate, you will almost always lose.” With that, Cassandra moved her knight and took Caitlyn’s queen off the board. “Checkmate.”
Caitlyn’s jaw clenched so hard, she forced herself to relax it before she cracked her teeth.
“You destroyed the very foundation of our relationship and you dare preach to me about remaining calm?” Caitlyn seethed. “You lied and betrayed my trust—thought that I would rather waste away in luxury built off of suffering and oppression than believe that I would do what was right. I cannot anticipate what you will do because it turns out that I have not known who you are my whole life. I thought you were a good person when you were a corrupt councilor; then when exposed to the truth, believed you were an awful person when it turned out you weren’t anymore. How can you expect me to anticipate such duplicity?”
Cassandra did nothing but stare blankly at Caitlyn, who was furious with herself. She hated showing her mother just how upset she was with her. It felt like admitting defeat.
Disgusted with her emotional, childish outburst, Caitlyn stood up and put her cloak on.
“I have to go,” she said.
“Be safe, darling. And please remember to take care of yourself,” Cassandra pleaded as Caitlyn stalked towards the door. She stopped when her mother called her name and glanced back to see familiar blue eyes wide and vulnerable. “I love you.”
Caitlyn’s heart broke in half. She wanted nothing more than to hug her mother, for her to tell her that everything would be alright and that she could come home. Instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat, nodded once, and left without a word.
An hour later, Caitlyn, with her hood up and breather put away, scaled up a very tall white and gold marbled building in the middle of North Piltover. She climbed onto a ledge that was just wide enough to put her feet on as she steadied herself to leap up to the next ledge. She continued on until she stood atop the Reveck Clock Tower. As she sat down in her usual perch, making a mental note to throw away the take out boxes that she left last time, went about making herself comfortable.
She pulled out a few things from her bag, rummaging around the rifle her mother made her a year and a half ago, to find a bag of nuts and dried berries, a water bottle, her notebook, and a scope. As she put a handful of food into her mouth, she maneuvered her body to lay down on her stomach and rested her elbows on the edge of the tower, just far enough back to not be seen by anyone below.
As Caitlyn looked through the scope to the building just south west of her crow’s nest, she smirked.
“Working late, are we, Sheriff?” she muttered as the profile of Sheriff Marcus came into view.
He was sitting in his office at home, seated at a rich red wooden desk with a lamp on and scribbling away at something. Caitlyn adjusted her scope several times until she could read what he was writing, though some words were harder to make out than others.
—transfer of resources—at risk of—C is worried.
“Corina,” Caitlyn growled as the hair on the back of her neck stood on end at the moniker used for the woman responsible for so much suffering.
She forced herself to take a deep breath as she pulled away from the scope to write down in her notebook. Then, she settled down for the evening, not once taking her eyes off of Marcus until 2:30 am, when the sheriff finally went to bed.
Caitlyn packed everything up, including all of her garbage, and returned to her apartment. She notated everything she could down in her book and went to bed only an hour before the sun began to rise. She hadn’t bothered taking her clothes off as she fell into a restless sleep as soon as she hit the mattress.