Page 4 of Contracted to the Bikers

Jessy seems satisfied with this explanation and returns to her battle.

I look back at the screen, my eyes feel tired from staring at its blue light for so long. I adjust in my chair, trying and failing to get comfortable. Then, a paragraph catches my eye:

Witness relocation may require immediate identity reassignment, severing prior personal and professional ties indefinitely.

It’s something I already knew, of course, in theory, but now the reality of it hits me. That word, ‘severing’, it’s so violent, so abrupt and final. I’d have to cut off everything, my practice, my cases, I’d have to stop practicing law and take on a new identity as far removed from my chosen career as possible. A career I’ve fought so hard to succeed in. I’d have to give up everything, my entire life, my identity, my skills, my name, I’d even have to alter my appearance. Everything. Gone. There’d be no turning back. I’d have to do that to my daughter, too. I’d have to teach Jessy to be afraid, to never tell anyone anything about her past; she’d need to become a whole new person, make new friends, and take up new hobbies—there’d be no more dinosaurs.

The idea sits heavily in my chest. Perhaps I could do it for Jessy, give up everything I love to keep her safe, but can I expect her to do the same? Can I really burden my child with such a weighty secret that she’ll have to keep for the rest of her life?

A loud buzz from Harris’s radio cuts through the quiet room. Both marshals stiffen instantly. Harris presses the button. “Harris.”

Static crackles through the speaker. I can’t make out the words, but the tone of the voice on the other end is sharp and urgent.

Reed stands up immediately. Whatever he’s heard has put him on high alert.

“What is it?” I ask, my voice coming out thin and reedy with nerves.

Neither of them answers, their faces fixed in identical frowns. Harris listens for another few seconds before replying. “Copy.” He lowers the radio slowly, grim-faced and serious.

“What happened?” I say. The two men exchange a look, and my stomach drops. I know the news was bad, very bad. “What happened?” I repeat.

Harris exhales. “There’s been an incident.”

I bite down my frustration. I don’t want them to break it to me gently. I just need to know. “With who?” My heart starts racing.

“With our vehicle detail. Marshal Carter was following up on a lead connected to Escar’s network.”

I frown, confused and a bit irritated at being kept in the dark. “I didn’t know there was another marshal assigned.”

“External support,” Reed says quietly.

“What kind of incident?” I ask carefully, my gaze darting over to Jessy, who thankfully, is too absorbed in her game to pay us any attention.

Neither man speaks for a moment. Then Harris says, “He’s dead.”

“Jessy, why don’t you go fetch your new storybook, and when you’ve finished playing, we can do some reading practice,” I say, trying to sound calm. Jessy jumps up excitedly and rushes off to do that.

As soon as Jessy’s thundering footsteps have receded and she’s out of sight, I turn my attention back to the marshals. “How?”

“Drive-by shooting,” Reed says. “About twenty minutes ago.”

A hollow feeling spreads through my chest. I never even met Marshal Carter, and now he’s dead because of a case I prosecuted.

“And his partner?” I ask, well aware he must have one.

“She’s in critical condition.”

The words feel like ice sliding under my ribs. The situation is escalating faster than anyone predicted. Someone didn’t just try to kill me, now they’re hunting the people protecting me. My laptop screen suddenly feels obscene. Witness protection statistics blink calmly back at me while real people are bleeding in the street because of me.

Harris looks at me carefully. “This changes things.”

“Yes,” I say.

“Federal protection command is recommending immediate relocation.”

“To where?” I ask, though I fear I already know the answer. Regardless, I won’t have a say in where we go or where our new home state will be.

“We will take you to an undisclosed location until WITSEC placement.”