He clicked his pen a few times because his fingers were anxious for something to do and then he wrote down the names: ‘Kid’, Nancy, and Celia (No known last name). “So, that was the night you met, Rafiq, and Felipe. Do you know what happened to Kid or Nancy? How did they end up at the house? Did Caleb kidnap them, too?”
Olivia glowered, but seemed unable to stop staring off into space long enough to direct it at him. He couldn’t make sense of her feelings toward her captor, despite knowing how common it was. There just didn’t seem to be anything there worth caring about as far as Matthew was concerned. However, he did acknowledge there was a lot about Olivia worth admiring. She had spent the last four months in the company of kidnappers, ra**sts, murderers, drug dealers, and human traffickers, but she’d somehow maintained a certain naivety and triumphant strength that apparently, could not be stripped away from her.
“I don’t know what happened to them. The last time I saw them, they were both alive. Kid is probably fine; Felipe really liked him. Nancy…I don’t know. Maybe she’s still with Rafiq,” she whispered without blinking.
“Are you alright, Miss Ruiz?” Matthew asked. His erection was finally starting to wane and he could focus on his questions.
The girl finally blinked and swiped at the fat tears sliding down her cheeks as a result. “I’m fine, Reed. It’s just…never mind.” She looked up at him and tried to smile, but it was a weak effort and they both knew it.
“Tell me. I know I’m not Sloan, but I have been around, Miss Ruiz.” Matthew smiled when she finally let her smile reach her eyes.
“Sloan. I don’t know what her deal is. She’s always so nice to me, but it annoys me for some reason. I don’t think she’s disingenuous, but I just know there’s more to her than she lets on. I mean, she works for the FBI, like you. Only, she’s not like you, at all.”
“Oh? And what am I like?” Matthew said.
She rolled her eyes, “You’re a jerk, Agent Reed.”
“You’re kind of a jerk, too, Miss Ruiz,” Matthew said dryly. She laughed.
“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Olivia said, slightly mocking but she laughed again, unrestrained, almost like a girl without any problems.
“So, you don’t like Sloan,” he rephrased. “Why?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like her, Reed. You’re always putting words in my mouth,” she admonished. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you implied Caleb kidnapped Kid and Nancy. He couldn’t have, he was with me, remember?”
Matthew smiled wryly and shook his head, “I didn’t imply it, Miss Ruiz. I asked the question. That’s my job. Also, we both know he did. Maybe he didn’t do it himself, but he was there and he ordered it. Regardless, adding more kidnapping to the list of charges against him is hardly going to make a difference.” Olivia was quiet for a long time after that, thinking, Matthew assumed.
“You keep talking about him like he’s alive, Reed, and I told you…he’s not.” Her eyes were filled with unshed tears again and it was difficult for Matthew to remain unaffected by them. No matter what he thought of Caleb, Olivia obviously felt very deeply for him.
“Why do you care about him so much, Miss Ruiz?” he demanded. He just didn’t get it and it pissed him off, more than it should. “He was terrible to you. The things he did to you. Don’t tell me you wanted those things. I can’t believe you could have.”
Olivia was staring off into space again, but she spoke through her tears, “A lot of bad things happened to him too, Reed. His back was covered in whip marks and he told me he was very young when someone did that to him.” Matthew couldn’t hold back a scoff, and Olivia blinked and scowled at him. “I’m not stupid, Reed. I know the shit he did to me was awful, I f**king lived it. But I’m telling you, monsters aren’t born, they’re made, and someone made Caleb. Someone beat him, someone did horrible things to him, and the only person who helped him, Rafiq, made him into a killer. He didn’t have someone like you, or Sloan, or the goddamn FBI to help him. He had to survive all by himself and even though I can’t forgive him, I understand him.”
“Are you trying to tell me he’s the monster with a heart of gold?” he said, disbelieving, “Come on, Miss Ruiz. Really?”
Anger flashed on her face. “There isn’t a permanent mark on me, Reed, not one. And you don’t know how many times he was there to hold me together when I was sure I was going to fall apart. He’s a monster,” she sobbed, “I know he is. I know, and…it doesn’t matter to me anymore.”
Crying women left him bereft of action. They reminded him too much of his birth mother lying on the couch, shaking and begging him to find a way to score more drugs for her. He’d panic at times like that, knowing if Greg came home and found her, he’d beat her and then turn his rage on him. He’d only been seven, but he knew how to get lost for a while. He would grab his coat, kiss his mother, promise her he’d be back with her medicine and then he’d leave. There was an older lady, Mrs. Kavanaugh, who lived a few blocks away. When things got bad, he would stay at her house, eating cookies and watching game shows until his mom, or Greg, came looking for him.
His mother had been a weak woman, a drug addict that cared more about being loved by an abusive man than she did her own son. Matthew had tried for years to help his mother get clean, but in the end, she couldn’t stop using. One night, she was too high to defend herself, and Greg beat her to death. Matthew hadn’t been home, he’d been out with his friends, and when he’d arrived at home he’d found her: cold and still.
Matthew was thirteen and he went to live with Mrs. Kavanaugh’s daughter, Margaret, and her husband, Richard Reed. Greg committed suicide in lieu of going to jail for murder, and Matthew had never gotten over the injustice of it, despite the fact his life had improved drastically after that. Margaret and Richard were his real mother and father as far as he was concerned. He tried not to think of those other people.
“Horrible things happen to a lot of people, Miss Ruiz. Not everyone becomes a monster,” he said.
“No, but the world is full of people who do. It’s like those kids in Africa that get taught how to use machine guns and kill. Some of them can barely lift the guns, but they’re killers. What about them, Reed? Do you hold them responsible? Would you lock them away or put them down?” She wiped her eyes.
“That’s different, and you know it. The entire continent is rife with civil unrest and it’s people like Muhammad Rafiq, Felipe Villanueva, and yes, even Caleb, that get those kids hooked on cocaine and then teach them how to kill. I hold those people responsible.”
“What about the one’s that grow up? What about the one’s that survive long enough to become adults? Can you blame them for doing the only thing they know how?” She had to stop and breathe, her anger making her shake. He could see it on her face. She wanted to hit him. “Do you think that ten or twenty years from now, I’m going to feel normal or be normal or have a normal life, like you?”
Matthew let out an exasperated sigh, “I don’t know, Miss Ruiz. I don’t have those kinds of answers for you. It’s wrong, what happens to those kids, but it doesn’t give them free license as adults to rape and murder just because they’ve been doing it since they were young. Nor does it justify their actions because they had a f**ked up childhood.”
“So…what? Fuck ‘em?” she challenged, her eyes wild. “Is that the best you can do?”
Matthew shrugged, “I don’t see the comparison, Miss Ruiz. Even if I did, are you telling me if one of those kids pointed a gun at you, if one of them raped you, you’d be willing to forgive them? Because I don’t think I have that much compassion. Anyone who points a weapon at me is going to get brought down. I don’t care if it’s a f**king Girl Scout.”
Olivia laughed without humor, “You’re f**king wrong, Reed. That’s exactly what Caleb would say.” She regarded him for a moment. “You are different from Sloan; she would never say anything like that.”
Matthew shrugged, trying to find his calm. The conversation had gotten out of control, and really, it just wasn’t necessary. “I tell it like it is and believe me, you’re not the first person to find it annoying.”
“Speaking of…why would you tell Sloan I kissed you?”
“Because you did. Dr. Sloan would have asked and it’s irrelevant to me but important for her to know.”
She rolled her eyes again, “I just wanted to distract you. You wouldn’t give me Caleb’s f**king picture and I wanted it. Now, Sloan thinks I’m some kind of sexual deviant who tries to seduce ass**le FBI agents that want to shoot Girl Scouts.”
Matthew smiled in spite of himself, “Well, aren’t you?”
“Tell me, you’re joking.” She stared at him, a startled, even comical expression on her face. “No one is that self-absorbed.”
“I’m joking. And I am that self-absorbed.” They both laughed amiably, but the conversation was far from over and it was up to Matthew to bring it back around, but he wanted to give Livvie the time to get there. “You still haven’t answered the question: Why do you care so much about Caleb?”
