Chapter 33
“All things under control there?”
I’m standing outside a conference room at the National Security Agency. Sloane is inside, in a meeting Jack Sullivan and Ryan Wolfgang arranged. If it weren’t for their assurances I can trust these people, I would’ve insisted on remaining with her the entire time. But I trust Jack and Ryan.
In the room meeting with her are some I’m familiar with, such as Jack’s daughter, Sophia Sullivan, a CIA officer, and Fisher, a former Arrow employee turned CIA operative, and the brother-in-law of Erik from Arrow’s IT department, Logan, who coincidentally works for the NSA.
The question session evolved into a slide show of faces asking Sloane who she recognized from the Origins Laboratory, Lumina International, and Cambodia.
I stepped outside to take this call from Knox.
“It’s good. Typical intel gathering. How’re things there?”
“All good. We’re moving into the rental this weekend.”
“You still a happily engaged man?”
It was just a couple of days ago he asked and she said yes, but when we’ve touched base, we haven’t been in a place to shoot the shit.
“I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life. This is right.”
“I’m happy for you. I think she’s good for you.”
“How so?”
Sage is this tiny scrap with a giant heart. Whereas my Sloane is strong and lethal. She’s tougher to get to know, but what’s underneath is every bit as steadfast as Sage, and god help anyone who threatens someone she loves. And I’m one lucky SOB to fall into that category.
“What do you mean?” Knox asks again when I don’t respond quickly enough for the new fiancé.
“I just think she’s crazy in love with you and the two of you are going to be good together.”
“Thanks. I agree. Things there are going okay? If Sage didn’t have school, she’d be there right now.”
“Tell her not to worry. They’re just picking her brain.”
“Room full of suits?”
“More or less. Some khakis and sports jackets thrown in for good measure, along with a couple of dresses and low heels.”
“Does the scene have you jonesing to join the CIA, or NSA, or any other government acronym?”
“Not at all.” I’m about done with uniforms of all varieties. Definitely done with all the formalities. “You know, Interpol’s here too. Our contact, Tristan Voignier. In the room with her now.”
“That’s interesting.”
“I concur. I’m glad Erik and the team proved all the shit posted was meant to shade her credibility. Otherwise, I’d be nervous they suspect her.”
“Whoever tried to frame her was sloppy. The whole operation was sloppy. But it’s all done, right? No one’s thinking anyone’s coming after Sage?—”
“No, everyone here believes our girls are in the clear. These meetings have been about gaining intel to stop some of the lowlifes behind this sick operation.”
“Our girls. Strange to hear you say that.”
“Yeah, well.” Truth is, I didn’t see myself in another serious relationship for some time. But that time has come.
“A ring in your future?”
I try to imagine Sloane’s reaction to a ring, but the conference room door opens. “Gotta run. Meeting’s over.”
I end the call, completely forgetting all about Knox as my gaze locks on Sloane. She’s exhausted. A full day of interaction with strangers sucks the energy right out of her. I get that. What she needs is for me to get her back to our hotel, order room service, possibly a cheese pizza, and to let her decompress with a massage or her favorite form of exercise—sex.
“How’d it go?” I ask her.
“I don’t think I helped.” She’s got bloodshot eyes, and her nails are worn down to the nubs. She must’ve started biting them after I left.
I wrap her in my arms. These few days have been tough for her. “Are you done?” I glance at the wood-paneled door behind her. “Do you have to go back in?”
“No.” Her arms wrap around my waist, and her chin rests on my shoulder. “Tristan made some phone calls. I have an interview scheduled for tomorrow at a biotech firm in Delaware. They’re doing the same cellular regeneration research I was doing.”
“Really?”
“Will you come with me?”
“Of course.”
“No, I mean, if I take the job. Will you…”
Her hesitation says she can’t complete the sentence. But I can.
“Are you asking me to move with you?” She shrugs, and I follow her gaze to the floor. “If we can find a place together, I’ll move.”
“Well, you’d need to see the place. You might not like it. I don’t know the area.”
“If we don’t like Wilmington, we can live in Philly or someplace nearby.”
“You’d want to live with me?”
“You think we’d live in the same area and not spend the night together?”
Her dark eyes narrow and her head slowly moves back and forth. “What about your job?”
“I’ll work it out.”
“You know, they might not like me. I might not get the job.”
“Hey.” I lift her chin and stroke her cheek until she gives me those dark eyes for a precious second. “Work will work itself out. We’ve got other things to worry about.”
“Like what?”
“Feeding you.”
“You like feeding me.”
She’s right. I do. I can’t wait to get in a kitchen and experiment. The fridge in the hotel room we’re staying in was set too cold, and I inadvertently learned she loves frozen grapes.
She presses her lips to the side of my neck, and I close my eyes, reveling in contentment. Her teeth tug on my earlobe.
“There’s one thing I want you to do for me, though.”
“What’s that?” I’m pretty sure I’ll do anything she asks me.
“Stop the injections. It’s an unnecessary risk, and they can harm your heart. I’ve only done a little research, but I don’t like you taking unnecessary risks.”
“Okay. Done.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I like that she cared enough to research what I’m taking. I like that she cares. After all, I care about her. “I wasn’t doing any of the crazy stuff, anyway.”
She narrows her eyes. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
“Good. Because I need you to stay healthy. I need you in my life.” She says it like it’s an admission, a weakness, but hearing those words does good things for my soul.
“Right back at you.” She might not fully understand how true that statement is, but I have lots of time to show her.