Okay, just an update for you guys! I'm still on vacation, so I'm blessing you with this chapter early! I'm very proud of this chapter and the ones coming up since it has actual plot in it! Anyways, you guys enjoy, let me know what you think, and just an FYI, use the tag #breakthechainfanfic on tik tok so I can see your guys' content!!
Love you!
-Dal.
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"Are you sure you don't want to go?" Jen asked while she was folding a shirt. You were trying to help her pack a suitcase for a weekend trip.
"I already told you. I'm not going." You wanted to roll your eyes, but you didn't want to get into an argument before she left. You picked another shirt that was lying on her bed and folded it, setting it in the suitcase in front of you. "Besides... I technically didn't get an invite."
Once again, your heart hurt a little more, as you thought about it. Flip and Ron were heading out of state for some forensics convention. Ron invited Jen, since they decided to become exclusive last week. Ron mentioned to her that the convention would last through the weekend, but after 3 pm they could have the rest of the day together.
Flip didn't mention said convention to you... at all. Didn't help that you were avoiding him over the last week as a result of it.
You sighed out loud. You really didn't mean to. You wanted to roll your eyes at yourself now. He didn't owe you an invite. He didn't owe you shit, in fact. You just got your hopes up, that's all.
"I'm sorry..." you heard Jen whisper as she folded another shirt. "I'm sure Ron will be busy most of the time, anyways."
Now you really did roll your eyes. Jen usually wasn't the type to say bullshit to make you feel any better. She got to the point, no matter how much it hurt.
You sighed again. "It's fine." you looked over to her. "Just have fun for the both of us?" you gave her a reassuring smile. She embraced you in a hug and nodded before you two went back to your task.
Your mind wandered to the week before.
You fluttered your eyes open and looked over to the alarm clock on Flip's bedside table. It read 2:23 PM. You then turned your head. You couldn't see Flip's face, but you could definitely see his head of hair covering it. You watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, as he was still asleep. You pressed your fingers onto your eyes, trying to rub the sleepiness off. When you gathered enough energy, you sat up in bed. You sat there for a moment before a thought entered your mind.
You slowly turned your head back towards his direction again, but you weren't looking at him this time. No. You looked at his bedside table. The case file was still there. You slowly stood up from bed and tip-toed over around to his side. When you picked it up you noticed how thick the file was. No wonder he was always complaining about the case. You took one last glance over to Flip, who was still sound asleep, and you tip-toed back over to your side of the bed.
You quietly sat back down on the bed, opening the file in front of you. You immediately noticed a picture of a man, which caused a wrinkle to form in between your eyebrows. You thought he looked familiar...
You shook your head and moved on. You moved the picture aside and started reading.
"Adrik Petroff AKA Abigor Kronos of Dimitri and Elena Petroff. Date of birth 10/31/1983. Born in Cheremkhovo, Russia. It is reported that A. Petroff was known for dealing drugs in the streets of Russia, before coming to the United States. When coming to the U.S. Petroff got involved selling firearms to various gangs around major cities. It was also known Petroff would spread false rumors about the gangs, causing them to become rivals. Death and crime rates skyrocketed as a result. This is where his alias, Abigor (meaning: Demon of War) Kronos, named after his grandfather that died from cancer in 1991, originated. When tracking Petroff to West Baltimore, Maryland in 2013, he fled back to Russia to escape charges. Word of Petroff came back in 2015 when he was seen in Miami, Florida. Major crimes started noticing a trend of firearms being used in crimes with 'X's' scratched in the sides. This was later known to be associated with Petroff. Miami was a hot spot of an increase of death rates. Reports came in to find 3-5 dead bodies every week in an abandoned building with the same 'X's' carved into their chest, tying back to Petroff."
You flipped the page, seeing multiple pictures of dead bodies, and their chests all carved up. You looked away, staring off. You tried to get that image out of your head.
You thought back to the mark. That definitely seemed familiar. Your mind flashed back to when Flip took you to his station... Those suited men... You licked your lips trying to put the pieces together. You stood up from the bed, picking up one of Flip's flannels on the ground. When you put it on, you walked out of the room and downstairs. Your throat was dry all of a sudden and you needed water.
You leaned back against the counter, with the glass in your hand. When you weren't sipping on the water, you were biting your lip. Yeah you saw some shit in the ER department, but your patients are usually alive... saveable. Most of the time... The people in the pictures however, were not. You took a deep breath and headed back upstairs to finish reading.
Note to self. Skip the pictures.
When you tip-toed back towards Flip's room, you saw him awake and assessing what was scattered across the bed. He sat up, holding up one of the pictures. When you came into view he looked up at you with a wrinkle in between his eyebrows.
"Were you reading this?" he held up the picture that was in his hand.
When you nodded your head, he put the picture down.
"How far did you get?" you watched as he started shuffling the pages back into the file.
You couldn't tell if he was pissed or not. You watched as he moved the file into the drawer of his bed side table this time. Looks like he didn't want you snooping again.
"I only got through the first page... A-Are you upset?" you questioned. You watched as he looked in your direction.
"Come here."
You bit your lip. You were terrified. You felt like you were overstepping your boundaries. Maybe he took his work personally?
You set the glass of water down on the dresser next to you.
You fidgeted with the ends of the oversized sleeves of the borrowed shirt you had on. You shyly made your way back towards the bed. You lifted your leg, about to sit on the edge of the bed when Flip grabbed your wrist. He tugged you, yanking you in the bed. Right as your back hit the mattress he got on top of you, hands on either side of your head.
You watched as he shook his head above you, tsking you in the process.
"You've been a bad girl I see." You watched as a smirk plastered over his face. Butterflies forming in your stomach.
"Hmm... you look good in my shirt." He shifted his weight to hold himself with one hand, while the other moved to your chest. Your breath hitched as you looked down, watching his movement.
You noticed how low the flannel was on your chest, showing most of your sternum. His finger started at your collar bone, tracing back and forth. His finger then made its way to your sternum, moving dangerously low. You couldn't help the chills shooting down your spine.
You took a shaky breath in. You blinked up at him as your hands slowly made its way to the buttons of the flannel.
Flip licked his lips, watching your every move. You bit your lip as you unbuttoned the flannel, slowly exposing your full breasts to him. You felt the warmth in between your legs come alive.
You remained eye contact with him as he bent down, getting closer to your chest. You took another shaky breath in as he stuck his tongue out, drawing slow circles around your left nipple. You shivered as his breath hit against the trail he left.
