21. 3 Years Later

3 Years Later

Chaos. That is the first thing I feel when I step out of the four walls of the jail where I have been for the past three years. And a lot has happened ever since then.

There were happy moments. The sad moments of course showed their ugly heads. There were times when I felt like ending it all. Like I knew that life isn't all worth it.

"Keep going Sarah. This is only a dark tunnel." I always tell myself as a form of encouragement.

But what stayed in my mind is Michael. He is always there. There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think about him. How he is doing. What he is doing.

What is he thinking about? Is it about me? Am I in his thoughts too? Does he miss me just the same way I have missed him? Does he miss those moments we shared? Moments that have lived rent free in my head ever since then.

A cab jars its horn in an attempt to get my attention and I immediately snap out of my thoughts.

"Hey ma'am, where are you going?"

"Take me to any cheap motel you can find, please."

The driver hesitated for a second before saying, "Sure."

I climb into the cab and change the direction of my thoughts. If I am going to succeed in getting Michael out of jail, then I will have to get at the man that caused his arrest in the first place.

Tracking him will be the best place to start.

"Hey, can we stop at a shop where I can get some gadgets?"

The driver ignores me. Instead, his emerald green eyes continue shooting me some suspicious glares.

I frown back at him, "Did you hear what I said?"

"Erm, sure." he replies in between fake coughs, "Ma'am… Are you sure you're okay?"

I blink back at him, wondering where the question is coming from, "I don't look okay? Tell me, how do I look?"

"You look tired. Like so exhausted… You look so exhausted. And its not just your body. It seems like your soul is tired too."

My gaze drops to my laps on realizing that he is right. I am tired. I have been ever since I was assigned this undercover job three and half years ago. This job has not only given me a restless body and a sleepless nights, but it has also made me shed tears and sweats. It made me question if I had even made the right choice by joining the academy.

Regardless of how I feel, I won't give up. Not until I fight till the end. I will deliver that devil Don Pedro to the FBI. And I will also fight until I guarantee Michael's release.

"I know." I reply to him. Inasmuch as I appreciate his caring, I would also love for the small talks to stop.

However, he did the exact opposite of what I am yearning for when he says, "I don't think you realize what I am saying. I just need you to know that whatever it is you're going through… You might need to take it one step at a time. Don't forget that slow and steady still wins the race."

And that's exactly what I did on getting inside the room where I booked to stay for at least a week. I take the first step by researching Don Pedro. I use the little information Michael told me about him to get his profile on the search space.

Turns out he is a blonde haired man in his early forties. His piercing blue eyes and half broken nose stare back at me from the profile picture.

I chew my inner lips as I contemplate on which would be the best form of entry. Obviously seduction won't work this time around. Not that I planned on seducing a shabby old man like him.

An idea flutters into my head as I toss and turn on my bed later that night. But it is the thought of Michael making love to me that took over.

I imagine his strong hands running through my soft skin, awakening every nerve in my body and heating them up.

When I can no longer resist it, my hand travels in between my legs and I find myself wet, warm and ready. Knowing that Michael would have purred at that discovery, I dip one finger into my wet pussy and moan in delight.

It feels so good touching myself like that. But it would have been better if those fingers belonged to Michael. The moans would have been deeper. My groanings would have filled the room. I would have climaxed with a long lasting satisfaction.

When my alarm rings the next morning, I slide off the bed like a girl on a mission.

And even though I have less than a hundred dollars in my account, I walk into a salon after having a sumptuous breakfast, ready to change my hairstyle.

"What do you want ma'am? A new haircut?" the hairstylist asks me.

I relax on the chair, admiring the multi coloured way he had spiked his hair.

"Blonde. I want to become a blondie." I reply while squaring my shoulders. After all, what's that saying about a woman who wants to change her life starting with her haircut?

The hairstylist frowns back at my reflection, "You sure about that?"

"What do you mean?" I say with a raised brow.

"Not that it's entirely my business, but blonde wouldn't look good on you. Trust a professional stylist on this one."

"I don't need to look good."

That makes him tilt his head to the side, a confusing look masking his face, "So why do you wanna change your hair colour if it wouldn't make you look good?"

I smile mischievously at him, "Now that's none of your business. Get your ass to work and give me some bangs too."

The hair appeared better than I expected. I love the way the front bangs masked my forehead and even those brilliant blue eyes of mine are almost not recognizable. And that's exactly what I need if I will need to play with a dangerous man like Don Pedro.

The first thing on my list is to strategically place myself in locations where he would be. From what Michael told me, he is a bibliophile and has a book club where he and some like minds come together to share about the books they love.

I enter the train that will take me to the central library downtown, where the book club will start in thirty minutes.

I have just taken a seat inside the train and about to bring out the book I saw on their website that they will be discussing for today, when I perceive a familiar scent.

"Hmm. Look who we have here." I hear him say.

My eyes widen in shock on seeing that it is actually him, "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"Anyone who knows you wouldn't recognize you on the first glance. But not me." he shifts his face until his lips are almost touching my ear, "Nice hair colour by the way. And the thing you did with your front hair doesn't look bad at all. You look more gorgeous than ever Sarah."

The more he speaks, the hotter my blood boils, "What do you want Dave?"

"What do you think I want?" he shoots back, daring me with his gaze when I roll my eyes at him.

"And how am I supposed to know what you want if you wouldn't speak up?"

He looks directly into my eyes, his gaze unwavering, "You were supposed to report back to me yesterday. But what did you do? Go lodge in some cheap motel and—"

"What I am doing with my life right now is no longer your business!"

Luckily for me, the train stops and I seize that opportunity to storm out of it, saying sorry to everyone I bump into.

Dave catches up with me before I could run away from him, "Tell me what's up with you. Or what? Have you gone rogue?"

I smile at the possibility of leaving the FBI. Maybe it is even what's best for me. But deep down, I know that's a wrong move for my career. I still have a lot to learn on the job.

"And what if I have? What are you going to do about it, huh?"

"That will be the worst thing you can do for your career and you know it!" His hold on my arm tightens, "And you know pretty well that we need sharp brains like yours."

"Oh really? But you didn't bat an eyelid before throwing me into jail. So much for needing me."

"That was because you fucked up and you know it!"

"I can see you haven't stopped with your curse words," I snatch my arm out of his grip, " And no! I don't know shit! All I need right now is for you to leave me the heck alone."

He scoffs at me, as if I am bluffing, "Seems like we will have to do this over again, Sarah."

"So you choose Sarah… Your freedom? Or your loyalty to the academy?"