by Aceves, Gigi
“Where are my parents?” Her shaky voice makes me want to cover her with my arms.
“I don’t know, Sophia, but don’t worry whoever this fu—- ah . . . whoever this idiot is, he can’t penetrate the outer ring.”
While I’m already thinking of other excuses to deviate her train of thought, Tony’s voice comes through my earpiece with the news I’ve been waiting to hear.
“All clear. All agents stay at your posts. Whoever has Wildflower, report now.”
“Wildflower secure,” I report.
My body shudders in relief as Sophia’s body deflates behind me. Abruptly, I turn and hold her body tight against mine as she grips onto my waist as tight as an Anaconda killing its prey. Her touch though, is far from that wild beast, a total opposite. Hers is soothing, almost like a balm to my fried nerves, a coat of innocence to cover my impurities.
“Hey, everything is okay. Breathe for me.”
Knowing that our embrace is lasting far longer than it should, I release her and nudge her shoulder slightly, hoping she’ll move. She blinks her eyes twice, shakes her head as if clearing the daze she’s been in as she covers her face, taking one step back.
“I’m sorry. . . . I. . . . I didn’t mean to be clingy,” she awkwardly says without meeting my gaze.
I suddenly remember a talk we had months ago while we were alone in her studio.
“Can you feel it too?” Her voice so solid yet lacking confidence.
If there’s anything I don’t want to destroy, it’s her trust in me. It took a long time before she did and shattering it now by lying to her will crumble her trust to dust. I can’t live with that.
“I do, Sophia. But we . . . I can’t act on it.”
“Why?” This time she looks at me with a questioning gaze instead of a hurt filled one, making my heart spasm uncontrollably.
“Because it’s the honorable thing to do. I’m called to do a job. A job that I love doing, and to break that because I can’t control my feelings for you doesn’t sit well with me.”
“How about what I feel? Don’t I get to say what I need . . . what I want?”
Sighing out of sheer frustration, I laid it out plainly for her. “You’re young, Sophia. How can you possibly know what you need and want? Life is just starting for you. I’ve lived my life. I can’t say there’s anything left that I want to do. I’ve seen, lived, and experienced life. I want that for you. I want you to see it without me holding you back. I want you to live it your way without adjusting to mine. I want you to experience it without it being clouded by me. I feel . . .” I stop to clear the lump in my throat that has grown exponentially in size.
I’m overwhelmed with how strong the current that pulls me to her is. I never thought I’d feel so strongly for someone, but now that I do, I have to give it up so she can live it the way she deserves to. Sacrifice—that’s been the story of my life.
So manning up, I forge onward. “I feel strongly for you, that’s not the problem. But it’s the strength of those feelings that makes it easier to give up my needs for yours. Maybe when time’s our friend and you’ve lived your life . . . maybe then, we’ll have our chance.”
As soon as I hear her sniffles, I turn and leave. If there’s one thing I know I can’t defeat, it’s her tears especially when they’re because of me. I have to stay strong, stick to the plan of allowing her to live her life before allowing even a sliver of hope in my heart to take root.
I holster my gun as I try to forget what I just remembered. “It’s okay; it’s just your nerves. You want to talk about it?”
She’s frozen in place like a statue.
I clear my voice to take the edge off. “You’re safe here, Sophia. The threat is gone. You can relax.” My calm voice is clearly in disagreement with her feelings.
She starts shaking her head, allowing her fears to get the best of her while I bravely take a step forward and calmly say to her. “Sophia, look at me.” I’m trying to maintain a smooth and even voice as much as possible.
Slowly, she turns and locks her eyes with mine.
“Walk back to me, Sophia. Please.”
With grace that matches no other, she moves and stops directly in front of me. Her auburn hair is messily piled on her head, her face free of make-up glows like an angel’s, her pink lips are so plump anyone would want to own them, but it’s her green beguiling eyes combined with their alluring honey streaks that captivate my brain enough for me to forget what the hell I need to do. I squeeze my eyes shut for a fraction of a second, and when I open them her gaze is already on me.
“I’m right here. What now?”
“When you get overwhelmed, especially out there . . .” I point out the window to make a point. “ . . . take deep breaths and count to ten while focusing on something good; go to your happy place. That helps. Can you do that for me now?”
I’m expecting her to look anywhere but at me, but my little Wildflower looks straight at me pursing her lips as she breathes in and out.
“Do you feel it leave your body?” I ask without breaking eye contact.
She nods. “Yes. . . .”
Giving her a nod of my own I counter, “Good.”
She narrows her eyes into slits. “Why are you being nice to me? It’ll be better if you’re mean or indifferent. It’s hard to fight this . . .” She starts flailing her hand back and forth between us. “ . . . my feelings which you’re feeling too but refuse to act on. I swear this is pure torture.” The hurt in her eyes doesn’t match the anger in her voice.
The tips of my lips tilt. “First off, I don’t enjoy torturing you. What we feel for each other may be torture to you since acting on it seems to be an impossibility. But in my eyes, it’s a torture I welcome because surrendering to it is easier than letting it go.”
She cocks her head again to the side. “So, you’re saying you’d rather suffer not being with me, just to be around me? That doesn’t make any sense. We can be together without experiencing all this pain.”
“It may not make sense to you, but it does to me. I understand your desire to be with me, trust me, I do. I feel it every damn second, but I’m not ready to give up being with you every single day to only be with you for just a day.” I smirk to myself. “We’d be lucky if we’d get a day.”
She lets out a pain filled laugh. “We can’t win for losing, right? I don’t know whether to envy you that you can control your emotions or get mad that I can’t. I have feelings that show. I can’t hide them. You’re a prisoner of yourself.”
“I guess I am. But, I’d rather be a prisoner if the tradeoff is seeing you every day.”
“While you watch over me.” My heart contracts painfully hearing the sadness in her voice.
With her inches away from me, I do the unthinkable—I touch her. My hand lands on her face cupping it gently, allowing my thumb to brush against the apple of her cheek. Mere seconds or minutes, that’s what I’m giving myself, and then it’s time to disengage.
“But that’s just it, I want you to enjoy life, Wildflower, but without shredding a few years off of mine. I want you to feel happy but safe; I need you to be safe for my sanity. I want you to be reckless with me standing close, knowing no one will ever hurt you. There are so many things I want for you, but your safety is far more important. So, when I’m being an asshole, as you put it, please know it’s because I need you to stay whole.”
For me . . .
She closes her eyes, enjoying my touch, shuddering under my hold. “You can’t touch me and except me not to react, not to hope, not to hurt. Will there ever be . . .”
I pull my hand from her with great hardship. It’s like a knife jabbing into me.
“Sophia, you know why there can’t be anything more.” My eyes focus past her, not wanting to be trapped in her green alluring eyes because in reality, I want to drown in their depths.
“Look at me,” she whispers.
The moment I do, my heart takes over my brain, and I relish in her beauty. How her e
yes sparkle as she looks at me, how her lips tip in a smile so demure her innocence radiates like a jewel. Everything about her hypnotizes me to always be in her presence.
“I can see it all in your eyes, Damien. I see the love, the passion, it consumes me. I know it consumes you too.”
I turn and take a few paces toward the door. I’ve said enough—more than enough. We’ve had this conversation before, and it earns the same result—us fighting or me walking out and hurting her.
Enough!
“I’m not having this conversation with you, again. Go to sleep, Sophia. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I’ve pegged you for a lot of things, but never a liar. Well, I guess I was wrong.”
Escape, that’s what I need. Not from the job, but from the weirdness that exists between us. I manage to control it while time and time again she expresses everything she feels about me. It can’t work . . . won’t work.
In shock—because love, it doesn’t exist in my world. Not that I don’t want to be tied down, I don’t think there’s anyone out there who’s willing to be tied down with me and all my baggage.
In awe—that even with a shitload of baggage to denounce love and a wall I’ve erected so high to protect myself, my Wildflower has managed to scale it and own every piece of me.
SOPHIA
“IS THE ADVANCE TEAM IN place?”
I’ve heard Damien talking about the advance team and agent placements ever since he arrived at the residence this morning. I can’t say I’m not nervous because I am, but not about the same things he’s worried about. Since this is the first time I’ve actually been invited to speak in my role as the “First Daughter”, I’m nervous I’ll embarrass myself and my dad. I’ve always been on the sidelines, standing next to my dad or mom, waving, smiling, and being the supportive daughter.
“We’re rolling in five minutes.”
Hearing Damien say we’re rolling makes me all the more anxious. I take a final look at myself in the mirror by the grand staircase, running my hand over my blue suit jacket, turning this way and that to make sure my ass looks great in my tailored pants. I take a step toward my room thinking of changing my two and a half inch Loubotin blue peep toe pumps to my ballerina flats for comfort, but Sarah shakes her head at me.
“We’re ready, Sophia.” Damien’s voice comes from behind me.
“Alright, let’s go then.”
“You know the protocols, right? No veering off plan. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir. However, I don’t think there’s a madman in my Alma Mater who wants to kill me, Agent Williams. I think my dad is a better target than I would be.”
“Every single time you’re out of the confines of the White House you’re a target, Sophia.”
We go in the limo with Sarah next to me, Damien riding shotgun and Jared behind the wheel. I go through my speech in my head while praying that I don’t miss a word or get lost looking at the teleprompter. Before I know it, we’ve entered the campus of Georgetown University.
“Waiting on Wildflower’s okay then we’re stepping out. Eyes and ears open.” Damien turns my way. “You ready or you need a few minutes?”
“I’m good.”
Once I say those two words, Sarah exits from my left and Damien follows a few seconds later. I follow Damien’s every move. Even though I can’t really see through his Oakley’s, I know what his eyes are searching for. Sarah opens my door and Damien positions himself in front of me with Quinn, Seth, and Sarah boxing me in.
I wave to a few who call out my name, smile to the cameras, and then we walk in the auditorium with my detail close behind.
“Sophia, remember once you set foot on the podium, Quinn will be standing below, I’ll be standing next to the stairs, Seth will be behind the curtain, and Sarah will be on the opposite side plus the other agents in and around.”
I nod in answer, my eyes wandering from every which way. I can feel Damien’s stress level rolling off him in waves. His rigid stance, stiff upper lip, and ever roaming eyes speak of the intensity of his commitment to his job as well as the other agents. A few moments later, faculty members and I march across the stage taking our designated seats while the Dean takes the podium. After a brief introduction, I start my speech talking about the importance of education and being part of the electoral process. As expected since it’s campaign season, I need to shake hands, take pictures, and interact with the students while photographers and cameraman vie for the best shot, and reporters hope to ask a few questions.
Damien is the closest to me while the students wait for their turn to have their moment with me. Suddenly out of nowhere, Damien grabs me by the waist as he starts moving. Sarah, Seth, and Quinn form a protective circle around us.
“Wildflower, evac protocol starts now! Jared! Get the car running, rear exit! Reid, Jason, we’re coming your way; clear it for me! Jed send in back up to detain suspects. Travis and Kyle have perps subdued by the side entrance. Go!”
We’re running at full speed or it’s more like they’re running while Damien’s carrying me. Quinn pushes the exit door where Reid and Jason stand guard, the limo door is open waiting for Damien to throw me in.
In seconds I’m inside the limo with Sarah next to me, Damien sitting shotgun as Jared speeds off followed closely by a black SUV and escorted by two DCPD black and whites on both ends.
“You okay, Soph?”
I can only nod at Sarah, shock still runs through my nerves making my entire body shake.
“I need to hear you’re okay, Sophia.” Damien’s serious tone prompts me to answer.
“I’m good.”
Even though I can only see the back of his head, I hear the sigh of relief that escapes his lips loud and clear. It was at that moment I realize the lengths Damien and the rest of my detail go through to make sure I’m safe. Tears quickly settle in my eyes as the realization hits me hard.
In the background I hear Damien say, “Are the perps neutralized?”
“Are you guys okay? Damien? Sarah? Jared?”
A few seconds of silence follow after I verbalize my question. All three are still on alert. Perhaps, the only time they’ll relax is when I’m once again inside the bubble.
“As long as you’re okay that’s all that matters. This is what we do. It’s part of the job.”
The resoluteness in Damien’s voice and the truth behind the words solidifies the dedication they have for their job and the guilt that forms in my heart. It’s my life for theirs and that’s something that’s hard to accept. The harsh reality is I can lose him at any given time because of who I am; and that harsh reality cloaks my heart with nothing but coldness and fear. Times like these, I wish my dad were a regular guy who has a regular job, where we live in a regular house, living a normal life.
With the siren of the black and white blaring in the distance I’m within the grounds of the White House in less than ten minutes. As soon as the motorcade comes to a stop, I’m welcomed by Dan, head of the Presidential detail, informing me to go straight to the Oval Office.
“Oh my God! I’m glad you’re okay.” My mom’s arms go around me like a vice. “Seeing it on TV was just horrible.”
“Well done, Damien.”
“Just doing our job, Mr. President.”
The click of the door signals his exit and I’m immediately in my father’s embrace. He pulls back as he examines me from head to toe. Satisfied he motions for me to take a seat next to my mom.
“This situation cements, at least in my opinion, that Damien’s the best one to protect you, sweetheart. So even though I know there might be feelings on both sides, I’m sure he’ll always put you before himself. To him it’s not just a job though he may hide behind that excuse, but it’s more his feelings for you that’s the driving force behind the protection.”
I shrug my shoulders. “I know. Watching him and the rest of my detail in action makes me feel guilty. I’m embarrassed by the number of times I’ve put them in stressful situations because
of my childishness.”
My mom smiles. “A sign of maturity is when you realize your mistakes, Soph. Be sure to thank them as well as apologize for past transgressions.” She winks at me after I give her an impassive look.
Since my mother brought up the subject of ‘maturity’ I decide to push the envelope. “So since I’m showing signs of maturity, can I move out now?”
The smile quickly disappears from my mother’s face and a frown now decorates my father’s. Apparently, they’re not ready to cut the cord just yet.
“After what happened today, you should have a better understanding of how dangerous it is out there. According to Dan, the guys that came after you are part of a political activist group. Can you imagine what would have happened if they got their hands on you? I don’t even want to think about it.”
There’s no sense in arguing because deep down I know my dad has a point. I exit the Oval Office followed closely by Damien. Before we get on the elevator to go up to the residence, I give Sarah, Jared, Seth, and Quinn a quick hug of thanks.
Once inside the confines of the elevator, I give my speech of thanks to the man who carried and protected me with his body today.
“Thank you for doing what you did today. Now I understand completely what it is that you do. How dangerous your job is and the gamble you take while protecting me.” My nerves get the best of me and my voice starts to shake. “I’m sorry for being such a brat. For not appreciating what you guys do for me and my parents.”
I expect a rebuttal or an ‘I told you so’ or “I know what I’m talking about’ speech, but instead he surprises me which makes me fall for him even more.
“This is more than a job for me. You . . . you’re more than just a charge I need to protect. Every time you step out there the worry, the stress, the fear I have for your safety could make a regular man succumb to those fears, but not me. I can’t afford to lose control for a moment. If you were to get hurt, it would bring me to my knees. So, thank you for understanding me, understanding everyone on your detail. When the appreciation comes from the realization of what we’ll do, it makes it all worthwhile.”