by N. A. Alcorn
“She’s still in the hospital? I don’t understand. Was she badly injured?” Sloan questions anxiously.
Chief shakes his head. “No, she’s doing well. She had to undergo minor treatment for injuries and some psych evaluations because of the way you two were found in the compound, but that’s really it. Honestly, she’s still here because we’re still working on getting her back to Mexico,” he informs her and then proceeds to finish his original point. “So after you two were rescued, another SEAL Team went in eighteen hours later and finished the job. They took out Hector and most of the leaders within the Arturo family. We’re still in search of Nico Delgado, but I have a feeling he won’t get too far. And any evidence they had on Dr. Felicia Santora was destroyed before it got into the hands of the wrong people.”
He takes a breath and laughs lightly. “I was surprised that they had zero information on Agent L-55. I’m guessing this is because you’re more stubborn than a mule and stronger than any agent I’ve ever seen.”
Sloan smirks at his amused expression. “There was no way in hell I was giving them intel.” She glances down at the stark, white sheet resting over her lap, her fingers adjusting it involuntarily. “I was prepared to die in that compound, Chief,” she whispers. “I was prepared to die.” She fights back the tears that threaten to spill from her eyes, the heavy realization of how lucky she was to get out of there weighing on her mind.
Chief continues on with the conversation, trying to steer it back towards something less emotional. “With the help of the microchips you put into Arturo’s main source of drug smugglers, we’ve dismantled the Arturo family and two other known drug cartels within the Mexican border.”
A small, lonely tear manages to slip down her cheekbone; her fingers quickly swipe it away. “That was all accomplished in the span of a few days?” she questions with confusion.
“No, that took nearly two weeks to accomplish,” he answers resolutely.
“Two weeks? I don’t understand…” she trails off as she tries to piece the days of the past together in her mind. The last memories she has are seeing Nix’s blue eyes staring down into hers when he came to her rescue at the compound and then miraculously seeing his handsome face hovering anxiously over her bedside for a brief moment. Everything is blank after that.
“You’ve been in here for two weeks, in and out of consciousness for the most part. Your body has been through a lot. The gunshots, the injuries”—his eyes search hers as he prepares himself to tell her the rest—“and the drugs they put into your body have required a long recovery to get you to this point.”
“What drugs? I know what they used on me to get me to the compound, but what were they putting in my system while I was there?” Her voice shakes from the uncertainty. Flashes of distorted images from her time spent at the compound begin to dominate her brain.
“Well…” Dubois runs his hand over his bald head. “The doctors found traces of Rohypnol, GHB, ketamine, and…heroin in your system.”
Her breath catches in her lungs as she struggles to continue the process of simply inhaling and exhaling. “They found heroin in my system?”
Chief nods in response.
“Why were they dosing me with well-known date rape drugs and heroin?” she asks. It’s the one question she’s not sure she’s prepared to hear the answer to.
“Are you sure you want to have this conversation right now? This is the first time you’ve been fully awake in fourteen days…” He stops, gauging her reaction closely.
“I need to know, Chief. I deserve to fucking know what happened to me at that compound,” she demands.
“There are videos that were confiscated from the compound. From what we could gather, Hector Arturo was pretty irate that you refused to give him any information or leads in reference to Agent L-55. He killed Agent Sims in a very brutal way that I do not wish to discuss. He beat you, tortured you, kept you hostage in his compound, and had plans of initiating you into his sex trafficking circuit. That’s what the drugs were for. You were drugged with the goal of making you unable to resist…” He pauses and shuts his eyes, his facial expression is one of discomfort.
“There are three particular videos of you that I honestly don’t think you should watch, but I will tell you that, even with those drugs in your system…you did resist. Hector’s plans for you did not go as he wished, and if we wouldn’t have gotten to you when we did, I’m not sure how many more hours you would have survived. You were badly dehydrated, had a significant amount of blood loss from the gunshots, and you were nearly septic from the infection that rested inside those injuries.”
He lets out a harsh sigh. “All I can say is Hector Arturo was a very sick and twisted individual. You were only inside that compound for a little over seventy-two hours, and things he put you through are downright unfathomable. If any other woman…” He releases a shaky laugh. “Hell, if anyone else, man or woman, had been put through what you went through…I don’t think they would have come out alive.”
Sloan can only respond with a nod. Her brain is in shock from everything she just heard. Her hands shake from the emotional and physical pain she had to endure.
The room remains quiet around them as she tries to absorb all of the information he just provided her. Her mind and heart scream for her to speak the only words that make sense in this situation, the only words that will make everything right.
“Chief, I want to see those videos, and I want out. I want to live my life again,” she adamantly expresses with strong eyes and an unwavering voice.
“I don’t think you should watch those videos—” he starts to explain, but she cuts him off.
“I’m only going to say this one more time… Give me the videos and accept my official resignation.”
He scrubs at his face with an irritated hand, a heavy sigh escaping his lungs. “You’re really giving me your resignation? Right now? This is the first time you’ve really been awake for days. Don’t you think it would be a good idea to think this over? This has been your career, your life, for the past ten years, Fifty-Five.”
“That’s exactly my point. This has been my life for ten years, and where has it gotten me? I was kidnapped, shot, beaten, drugged, and practically raped by some of the worst criminals we’ve ever seen. So I will say it again…. I. Want. Out. I want to be Sloan again.” Her voice rises with each word as she refuses to back down from this.
She is done.
She is ready to move on with her life and find some kind of happiness.
He glances up at the ceiling, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re the best goddamn agent I have. I can’t let you go,” he responds quietly after his eyes make their way back to hers.
Sloan continues to hold her ground, refusing to take no for an answer. “Even if the Arturo family didn’t get any information on Agent L-55, my cover is blown. I can no longer go under the guise of Felicia Santora. And with all due respect, Chief, you don’t have a choice in the matter.” She pauses, staring directly at him to ensure that her point is understood.
“I don’t regret my time with CIA. It’s made me the woman I am today, but I’m ready to move on. I’m ready to have a life again, a chance at a future with open possibilities and nothing holding me back. I’m just ready to be Sloan.” She exhales heavily as the enormous weight is lifted from her chest.
“You’re not going to back down from this are you?” he asks with a harsh laugh as he runs a lone hand over his shaved head.
“No,” she answers resolutely.
“Well, let’s hear it… What are you demands?” he queries.
Her eyebrows rise in surprise. “My demands?”
Chief nods. “Yes, your demands. I know you well enough to know that you’ve got a few requests before you give your official resignation. I’m assuming that, once those requests have been met, you will gladly provide the rest of the information you retrieved while you were in Guadalajara.” His eyes dance with insinuation as he gives her a pointed look.
A small, knowing smile spreads across her lips. “I want copies of the videos and the final investigation reports from the Guadalajara missions. And I want you to grant Alejandra Arturo American citizenship. She’s going home with me to San Diego.”
His eyebrows turn down at the corners, his nose crinkling in frustration. “I have no idea why you want to see and read all of the gory details regarding all of the things that went wrong with that mission, but fine. The videos and reports are yours. In regards to Alejandra, I don’t have the power to grant her citizenship.”
There are a lot of things she doesn’t remember, but she does remember her. She remembers Alejandra and the desperate, pleading expression on her face. That look will forever be burned into her brain.
Sloan flashes him an I-know-you-are-full-of-shit glare.
After a few heavy sighs and an exasperated groan, Chief Dubois finally consents as he allows, “Fine,” to pass from his lips.
“Thank you,” she responds while trying desperately to rein in her excitement. Her heart is practically soaring out of her chest over the eagerness that’s consuming her.
“Have a good life, Sloan. I’m going to miss having you around,” he adds as the hint of the teeniest, tiniest smile threatens to crest the corners of his mouth. He promptly clears his throat, refusing to be anything but stone-faced and straight to the point.
“I will,” she affirms. “Thank you. You taught me everything I know, Chief. I have a feeling you’ll get along just fine without me.”
Without another word, he gets up from the teal, plastic chair that rests beside her hospital bed and strides out of the room. Not a second glance. Nothing. And she couldn’t be more relieved.
Sloan closes her eyes, leans her head back against the hospital bed, and smiles. She smiles because, for the first time in a long time, she’s hopeful.
Hopeful. Relieved. Thankful.
She can be Sloan Walker again.
Tears blur her vision. At first, it’s from relief, but then, after a few moments—as the realization of what could have happened begins to cross her mind—the tears spur from understanding the dire situation she faced. Liquid emotion slowly seeps from her eyelids, running softly down her cheeks, each tear representing how truly lucky she is to be alive. And now, she’s here, alive, free from the CIA, and blessed with possibility of a fresh start and a future.
As her hands swipe at her face, wiping away the remnants of tears, a bout of laughter begins to consumer her. The physical, emotional, and mental stress she suffered in Guadalajara bubbles up to the surface, and the only thing she can do is laugh. She closes her eyes and laughs. With tears still streaming down her cheeks, loud, cathartic, belly-shaking hoots escape from her lungs. Sloan laughs because her body needs the laughter just as much as it needs the tears, both serving as cleansers of everything she has endured.
As the laughter and tears subside, her eyelashes flutter open. A sense of calm consumes her, blanketing her in its warmth and nestling inside her soul. Her russet eyes glance towards the door and her vision becomes tunneled. Solely focused.
Nix is leaning against the doorway of her hospital room, gazing at her with an intense expression on his handsome face.
Is it him? Is he really here?
“Hey, beautiful,” his smooth, husky voice calls out to her.
It really is him. Nix is here.
“Hey,” she responds quietly. She swallows against the emotion that thickens her throat.
He walks towards her, kneeling at the bedside, his eyes observing her closely. A small smile crests his mouth as he brushes a strand of her messy, brown locks behind her ear.
She’s too distracted by his presence to even be concerned about her looks. She just savors the sight of him. God, he’s more beautiful than she remembers.
He stares at her with intensity, with a purpose, with absolute love. He rests his warm palm over her hand, gently intertwining his fingers with hers. Without losing eye contact, Nix lifts their hands and places an affectionate kiss on her knuckles.
“I’ve missed you, Sloan. I’ve missed you so much, baby,” he whispers as his lips stay connected with her skin. It’s like he can’t stand another moment without kissing her, touching her…loving her.
Hearing her real name pass his lips gives her a surge of emotion that rushes up her spine and engorges every tiny nerve ending inside her body. Warm tingles prickle her skin as a million butterflies flitter and float inside her belly.
“I’ve missed you too.” A strangled breath escapes her mouth. “I’m so glad you’re here, Nix.”
“I’ve been here every single day, sweetheart. Every day, I’ve been here, holding your hand, kissing your gorgeous face, and talking nonsense into those pretty little ears of yours. I’m glad you finally decided to really wake up,” he teases with an adorable grin, showing off his perfect mouth.
Her eyes perk up in surprise. “You’ve been here every day? What about your Team? I figured you’d be shipped out somewhere—”
He immediately cuts her off. “Meli, I don’t want to be anywhere else. I belong right here with you and that’s all you need to worry about. Everything else is just details right now. Your safety, your health, your well-being are the only things I’m concerned about.”
“I love you,” she declares as her heart threatens to burst out of her chest.
“I love you too, baby. And you need to remember one very important thing: I’m always here for you.” He pauses and a small smirk creases his mouth. “Actually, make that two very important things: I’m always here for you and I’m always right. I told you we’d get through it. I told you we’d be together, and look at us now…here, together.” He raises his eyebrows in amusement.
His cocky tone has the corners of her mouth cresting up into a wistful smile.
“God, you’re still the same cocky sixteen-year-old boy that I made show me how to surf.”
Nix chuckles. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he agrees with a nod of his head. “I’m still the same Nix that used to tease you relentlessly just so you’d give me a dose of that sass I adore. And I’m still the same guy who persuaded you to make out behind the bleachers after school.”
She can’t hide her grin.
A beautiful memory of sixteen-year-old Nix cupping her face with his hands and pressing his soft lips against hers as they sat in the Hawaiian sand fills her mind. The very moment when he told her he loved her for the first time. It was one of the best days of her life.
“That Nix was nothing but trouble.”
“He still is, sweetheart, but you’re going to have to learn to live with it.”
“Live with it?” she questions with a soft tone.
“Yeah. I lost you once, then I got you back, and then I nearly lost you for good, so I’m not letting you go this time. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re stuck with me.” He pulls her hand to his lips again and kisses the inside of her palm tenderly, reverently.
“I’m stuck with you?”
He nods his head in response, keeping his mouth pressed against her skin. His lips brush back and forth, causing pleasurable goose bumps to spur up her arms.
She shrugs her shoulders while her gaze looks down at him adoringly. “I guess I can deal with that.”
His eyes lift to hers. “You guess?” he asks with a chiding tone.
Sloan giggles quietly. “I can definitely deal with that.”
“I like that answer better,” he says before leaning his face towards hers, their foreheads touching.
“Do you think we can make it work? So many years have gone by, Nix. So many things we don’t know about each other. So many things to relearn.” Her voice quivers with uncertainty.
“The week I spent with you before you shipped out to Guadalajara was the best goddamn one of my life. I knew after the first night you spent at my apartment that you were still my Sloan. Nothing will ever change that,” he declares with determination.
“You’re still my Nix
. My caveman. That will never, ever change.”
His thumb rubs gentle circles over the hand he refuses to let go. “I made a promise to myself after the first night I finally had you back in my arms. You were sound asleep and your head was resting on my chest…” He pauses as his eyes take on a distant, wistful look. “I couldn’t stop my fingers from continuing to run through your hair. God, I couldn’t stop my fingers from touching you. I could hardly believe that you were there with me. It felt like a dream.” He gently kisses her palm again. “I promised myself that I would never let you go again.”
His words sear her, completely owning every inch of her soul.
Right there in that hospital room, with Nix kneeling at her side, the last thread holding Sloan’s heart back withered away…
No second guesses. No uncertainties.
Her heart finally tells her to stop wasting time.
With their eyes locked together—both refusing to let the moment pass—Nix brings his free hand up and slides a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingertips lightly brushing along her neck. “I love you, Sloan. I think I’ve always been waiting for you to come back to me. Maybe I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing, but that’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve been waiting for you for a long fucking time.”
A smile encompasses his gorgeous face. “And now that we’re here, together, there’s no more waiting. We’re just gonna be. We’re just going to be together—today, tomorrow, one year, ten years, two hundred fucking years—we’ll just be. Me and you. Always.”
“Two hundred years?” she asks with a quiet laugh.
“Yeah. Two hundred years, sweetheart.” His eyes shine brightly into hers.
“I’m glad you waited,” she whispers against his lips. “I love you, Nix. I love you so much.”
“So back to the subject of making out…” He glances around the room and then brings his heated gaze to her, eyeing her with lascivious appreciation. “There are no bleachers, but you’re looking pretty sexy in that hospital gown… I think we can work with this.”
Sloan lands a playful slap on his chest before grabbing a handful of his T-shirt and bringing his mouth mere inches from hers. “Just shut up and kiss me.”