Covertly Strong (The Strong Series Book 1) (49 page)

“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.”

And with that, Nix closes the distance between them and places his lips against hers. The kiss is soft yet firm, intense yet tender, and full of more love than Sloan ever knew was possible. In this moment, they are one.

There are so many unknowns about their futures, but there is one thing that is certain. Sloan and Nix will face the unknown together—without uncertainty, without doubt. They will face whatever life brings, hand in hand…
together
.

The color gray has never looked so damn good.

“WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?” Nix asks as he pulls a chair besides Sloan’s hospital bed, setting the bags of Chinese takeout on the small bedside table.

She startles and fumbles with the buttons on her laptop.

“Uh…” she answers hesitantly, her eyes fixated on her computer.

Nix leans forward and glances at her laptop screen. Shock consumes him. The screen is frozen and the video is paused, but he knows that video. He lived that video. His mind starts to remember. Vivid pictures flash through his brain, making his chest ache and his lungs threaten to hyperventilate.

Sloan barely dressed and bloody and beaten to nearly an inch of her life.