Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Imogene
Atlanta had always been home, even when I hated it. It wasn’t the city itself I’d wanted to escape. It was the memories.
But now, standing in the bedroom of the house Gideon and I had called home for the past few months so that I could be close to my parents, I saw the skyline differently.
The heavy weight I’d carried for so long wasn’t there anymore. Maybe it was because Samuel Tate, my Samuel, was alive again — legally and in every way that mattered. The powers-that-be had restored his name and his life, and despite everything we’d endured, we were stronger for it.
Not that I’d started calling him Samuel or anything. To me, he would always be Gideon.
I checked my reflection in the mirror, hoping a sundress would be appropriate attire for whatever Gideon had planned today. The cruel bastard he was, he refused to give me any clues. All I knew was he wanted to spend the day making new memories together. To drown out the old memories this date held for both of us. After all, it was on this date six years ago I thought I lost him.
But he somehow found his way back to me.
And despite everything we endured, we managed to come out stronger.
Mere months ago, I didn’t think I’d ever see Gideon again, let alone be able to start a life with him. I thought I’d die in that cell where Myers had imprisoned me, suffocating in darkness with only concrete walls and hopelessness for company.
And when all hell broke loose after I stabbed Myers, I thought I doomed us all. But I’d rather go down fighting than simply accept my fate.
Thankfully, Henry showed up like an avenging angel just when we needed him the most.
He had next to nothing to go on. Just the license plate of a van that turned out to be a dead end and what Gideon had told him during their last conversation — that the man who took me confessed to being the man who also held him captive.
So Henry focused on that thread. It was thin, fragile, but thankfully it was enough.
He went back through the files Gideon had taken the night he killed McGuire. There wasn’t much at first, just stacks of financials and coded transactions, but Henry dug deeper. He eventually traced a phone number McGuire frequently called to a pilot.
That in and of itself wasn’t a giant red flag, but it made Henry suspicious, so he had some of his field agents track him down. After some forceful persuasion, he discovered the pilot often flew McGuire to one of three locations — Maine, Oklahoma, or Palmdale, California.
It may have been nothing, but Henry knew he had to do something, so he reached out to Melanie’s father, Alexander, and they joined forces to storm a compound outside of Palmdale the pilot confessed to have driven him.
The FBI was horrified by what they found inside. Cages, recordings, and a vast network of atrocities orchestrated by Myers. Properties in Oklahoma and Maine tied to him revealed even more horrors.
As Gideon suspected, Myers had abducted Liam shortly after the recording of James Turner’s conversation with Brian McGuire was leaked to the media. Then, to make sure it never came back to him, he requested to be assigned the case investigating Liam.
The entire investigation was essentially a game to Myers. An “experiment”, as he called them.
And over the past several years, Myers had conducted hundreds of these experiments. The authorities said it would take years to unravel the full extent of Myers’ twisted operations and identify all the victims.
All to feed his sadistic need to push people to their limits. To control them.
But he was gone and we could finally live the life we once dreamed about.
Now that we were back in Atlanta, Gideon’s focus was on the community center he’d founded all those years ago, teaching at-risk kids how to channel their anger and aggression into martial arts. As for me, I ended my contract with the soccer team in San Diego earlier than I’d originally planned and start my own practice here in Atlanta. I still primary treated athletes, but I was now able to make my own schedule.
A sudden chiming cut through, the doorbell pulling me out of my thoughts. I checked the app on my phone, finding a man in a courier’s uniform on our front porch with a small envelope in his hand.
I tried to bite down the grin begging to be set free as I rushed out of the bedroom and down the stairs, eagerly flinging the door wide.
“Imogene Prescott?”
“Yes,” I responded breathlessly.
He handed me the envelope with a polite nod before disappearing down the walkway.
Unable to contain my enthusiasm, I tore it open and unfolded the single sheet inside. A familiar, masculine script greeted me.
You buried your nose in books galore,
Lost in history, myth, and lore.
But I preferred a hands-on class,
Between the stacks, time seemed to pass.
I didn’t even have to think twice to figure out where to go — the library at my old college where Gideon would often drop by to visit me and give me a different kind of anatomy lesson than the one I was studying.
Hopping in my car, I made my way out of the peaceful neighborhood of Brookhaven and toward my old college, wondering if I should have taken an Uber to save time. But as luck would have it, someone pulled out of their parking spot just as I approached.
Once I killed the ignition, I grabbed my purse and hurried through the quad toward the library, finding the next clue in an anatomy book, as I expected.
From there, his clues led me across Atlanta. To a coffee shop. To a bench at Piedmont Park. Even to the building that was home to his community center. Each location filled me with a flood of fond memories and reminded me of the connection we shared.
Finally, when I found the last clue at The Varsity, where I rewarded myself with a Varsity dog, I knew I was nearing the end of my journey.
Past the trees and down the lane,
Where moonlit waters knew no pain.
The farmhouse waits where the lake is clear,
A chapter of our story I’ll always hold dear.
Tossing out the rest of my half-eaten hot dog, I hurried back to my car, my excitement mounting with every mile. By the time I turned onto the gravel drive leading to my uncle’s farmhouse, my chest was tight with emotion.
The house stood like a sentinel at the edge of the lake, its wide front porch bathed in the afternoon light. The sprawling oak trees that flanked it swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves whispering a melody only they could hear. The air carried the earthy scent of pine needles and fresh grass, mingled with the faint aroma of the lake water beyond.
Stepping out of my car, I paused to take it all in. The farmhouse looked the same as it did during my childhood with its whitewashed siding and green shutters. The creak of the wooden steps underfoot brought back memories of running up and down them with my cousins, and of one unforgettable summer night when Gideon kissed me for the very first time.
A fluttering erupted in my stomach as I climbed the stairs and opened the heavy wooden door, revealing the cozy interior I knew so well. Warm golden light streamed through the windows, catching tiny specks of dust swirling lazily in the air. The scent of aged wood and lavender cleaner filled my lungs, grounding me in the moment.
In the center of what once was the parlor stood Gideon, dressed in a sharp black suit with a single flower pinned to his lapel. My breath caught as I took in every detail — the way the suit hugged his broad shoulders, the way his eyes softened when they met mine.
“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He stepped closer, his presence filling the room, the faint scent of his cologne teasing my senses. “I told you this morning,” he said softly. “I wanted to give you a better memory of today. After everything we’ve been through, I think we both deserve that.”
“You’re right about that.” I laughed under my breath.
“At first, I wasn’t sure what to do,” he continued. “I know you love scavenger hunts. But I wanted today to be special. A day you’ll never forget. A day that will only conjure happy memories from this day forward.”
I rose onto my toes and brushed my mouth against his. “Every day with you is the best day of my life.”
His lips curved into a smile that made my knees weak. “Mine, too. And I don’t want to wait another second to start the rest of my life with you, Imogene. I want it to start now. Today. Will you marry me?”
With a smirk, I held up my left hand, the engagement ring sparkling in the fading sunlight. “I already said yes. Or are you too old to remember that far back?”
He pulled me close and dipped his head toward my neck. “I should punish you for making fun of my age.”
I met his eyes. “Promise?”
“You better believe it.” His pupils dilated as he raked his gaze over my frame, causing heat to pool in my belly. Then his expression softened once more. “But that ring on your finger is just an engagement ring. I don’t want to be engaged to you anymore.” He brought his hands to my face. “I want to be married to you.”
His statement hit me like a tidal wave, leaving me breathless. My pulse increased as I searched his eyes for any hint of hesitation, but there was none.
“Right now?” I asked, the words barely audible. “I don’t have a dress.”
“It’s upstairs.” He nodded toward the staircase. “Melanie and your mom picked it out.”
Most women might have been upset at the thought of having someone else choose their wedding dress. Not me. I’d told my mom from the beginning that I didn’t care what I wore. I only cared about who I was marrying.
“But my parents,” I said, my voice faltering. “And Melanie. She’ll kill me if I get married without her by my side.”
His grin widened. “Your mom and Melanie are upstairs, as well. The rest of our guests will be arriving in two hours. I just need a bride.”
Emotion swelled in my chest, threatening to undo me. A rush of joy, love, and disbelief coursed through me, leaving me breathless as I stared at the man who had defied every odd to find his way back to me.
The idea of getting married on a whim like this seemed so unconventional. But we’d never exactly been a conventional couple. Why start now?
“Okay,” I whispered, the word catching on a sob. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I placed my hand in his. “Let’s get married.”