Episode 3
Josh
Josh had seen these interrogation rooms on reruns of Law and Order; sterile, empty of everything but the stainless steel table in the middle, a chair, and the ubiquitous mirror on the wall. Unlike the shows where the cops interview the guilty, the one who brought him in here hadn't cuffed him to the table. He'd been given coffee, a bottle of water, and a sandwich that may or may not have been left over from 2019. The same cop politely asked him to wait here, so waiting is what he'd done, even though a million questions spun in his thoughts about what someone on the other side of what he assumed was a two-way mirror might be doing. Were they staring at him? What would even be saying about him if they were?
Maybe that he was a fucking idiot?
Maybe that he was the worst father in the world for giving into base instincts when all he should be thinking about was his son?
He hadn't seen Ethan since the cops had led Josh away from the hotel, and the bombshell that the man he'd purchased for a fuck was an FBI agent was horrifying and humiliating.
What did I do?
I'm going to lose everything.
The coffee was cold, and the sandwich sat untouched because the idea of eating right now made him gag. Even sipping water made him nauseous, and he turned the chair so his back was to the mirror so no one could stare as he crumbled. The cop had asked for his phone and suggested Josh wait for assessment as to an arrest. God. He'd need to call in a lawyer if he was arrested.
Connor might have been willing to help him battle one of the county's most prosperous and influential men over Ben’s wellbeing, but he was also the last person Josh wanted to call. Best friends since they were kids, Connor —even as Josh’s lawyer—would lose his mind when he heard how much Josh had fucked up when they'd been so close to making everything right.
So he sat alone, and it was the perfect torture to leave him in an empty room with regrets and fears laced with terror.
Why!
Anger overtook the shame and confusion in slow increments—how could the cops just leave him here after dumping everything on him about his son, his ex's fiance, and kidnapping, and—
The door opened as if his growing need for answers had willed it, and a man walked in, dragging a chair behind him. Tall, cleanshaven, in a smart suit, he was precisely what Josh expected a federal agent to look like.
“Why has no one talked to me. I need someone to tell me what's happened. Who was that man? Is Ethan Masters his real name? Is he really FBI?"
"Special Agent Danvers." the man introduced himself but didn’t offer a hand to shake. “Let's talk about how much trouble you're in," Danvers sat down and smoothed the seam of his pants.
"Am I under arrest?"
Danvers ignored him. "There are serious repercussions for what happened tonight, not least of which is how much this impacts your custody case. So we need to talk."
"I don't understand?"
Josh's chest tightened in fear as the man paused for a moment and stared at the ceiling as if looking for divine inspiration.
"You got fucked," Danvers finally said, and chuckled. "Literally and figuratively."
"If I’m not under arrest then I want to leave."
"Well, you can't right now." Another soft laugh, and the hackles raised on the back of Josh's neck.
“You can't make me stay unless you arrest me."
"Arrest you? That would be entirely too easy."
"I want to call my lawyer!"
"A lawyer won't help you."
That sounded like a threat. “My family will be calling the cops."
"You live alone. Your son is safe with the ex-wife you don’t even talk to. You don't have anyone else meaningful in your life apart from your low-rent lawyer friend. Am I right?"
Josh gripped the table and stood. "I'm leaving to see my son."
"After we've talked."
"I'm not talking to anyone until I see my son."
"Then we're at an impasse," Danvers sat back in his chair and stared at him with a single raised eyebrow.
"I know my rights."
"Rights?" He rolled his eyes. "You gave up your rights when you paid for sex. Sit down if you want to see your son again."
The threat was terrifying. How was this happening? "I'm leaving."
"Sit. Down," Danvers’ voice sent shivers through Josh.
"I don't understand any of this. I'm leaving--"
Danvers unholstered his weapon and placed it on the desk as if to underscore the power imbalance. "Sit your ass down." Nothing about this was right, not the absence of cops, or lack of an arrest, or Ethan and what happened back in the hotel room.
"You'd shoot me to stop me from leaving?"
Danvers gestured at the gun. "If I have to."
The door opened, and this time a familiar person appeared — Ethan. He didn't look much like the hooker Josh had picked up earlier in the evening. Gone were the leather pants and the loose shirt, and there was no trace of the eyeliner or the slick on his sensual lips. He wore jeans, hi-tops, an FBI T-shirt, and a neck lanyard held a security pass. Even his tussled dark hair was smooth and neat now, but it was unmistakably the man who’d made him feel something for the first time.
"I want to leave," Josh pleaded immediately with Ethan. If there had been any connection between them—anything at all—then he needed help. "Is my son in danger—"
"I'm here to debrief the target," Ethan ignored Josh’s questions and spoke directly to Danvers.
"Not happening, Masters," Danvers huffed a laugh. "You don't get to step inside this room after tonight's fuck up."
Ethan stiffened, his lips thin, "He's my asset, Danvers."
"The remit is to debrief —"
"That debrief is mine," Ethan snapped. "I'm taking over now."
Danvers moved quickly between Ethan and Josh, fronting his fellow agent, his hands in fists at his side. "Over my dead body."
Ethan didn't appear phased over the threat. "Check your phone—orders are that I take over."
Danvers sneered. "Your part is done. You need to let the big boys figure this shit out now."
Ethan ignored him. "We're going. Josh, you're with me."
Josh didn't know what to do; Danvers made his skin crawl, and Ethan was an unknown quantity, but right now, he wanted to see someone other than Danvers, and Ethan was giving him that chance.
"I want to speak to a cop," Josh insisted.
“I’ll take you,” Ethan reassured.
"You think he's taking you anywhere near a cop?" Danvers snorted a laugh as punctuation, and Josh stepped back from him. "You're well and truly fucked."
Danvers turned to the table, reaching for his weapon, only he never got to it as Ethan tackled him to the ground and punched him so hard that Danvers fell back dazed. They grappled for a while, but Danvers crumpled in an unconscious heap after a final punch.
"What are you doing?!" Josh froze in horror, and Ethan had to shove him out of the room before locking the door behind them.
Ethan pulled his weapon and encouraged Josh towards the fire exit, saying nothing.
"I'm not going anywhere until I've seen a cop," Josh said.
Calmly, Ethan pointed his gun at Josh's head, and his expression held nothing but deadly focus.
"We’re leaving.”
"What--"
"Now."
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