20. Nightmare
Nightmare
The gunshot came first.It always did.Chris hit the concrete hard enough to knock the air from his lungs.Someone shouted his name.Not Roman.Not any of the dozen names he’d worn over the years.Walker.
“WALKER!”Another shot.Concrete exploded inches from his face.Chris rolled behind the steel support column and reached for his weapon.Blood covered his hand.His blood.Too much.He looked down.The first bullet had entered below his shoulder.The second had torn through his side.His shirt was soaked.His radio crackled.
“Walker, what’s your status?”Chris pressed one hand against the wound.
“Compromised.”Gunfire erupted again.“Extraction team is moving.”
“No.”
“Walker—”
“They’ll see you.”
“We’re coming in.”
“Negative!”Chris dragged himself farther behind the column.His vision blurred.Across the warehouse, men were moving.Searching.They didn’t know he was FBI yet.But they knew somebody had betrayed them.And Chris knew exactly how long it would take before they figured out who.
“Walker, listen to me.”Sloan.Her voice.Different operation.Different year.Same Chris. “You’re losing too much blood.”
“I noticed.”Even then.Bleeding out on a filthy warehouse floor and still making fucking jokes.“Chris.”
“Don’t use my name.”
“They already know.”His blood turned cold.“What?”
“They know, Chris.”Footsteps.Closer.Someone shouted from across the warehouse.“FEDERAL!”Chris’s eyes closed.Fuck.Cover blown.He raised his weapon.One man appeared.Chris fired.Another.Gunfire.Pain ripped through him.Then—Camila walked around the corner.Chris froze.No.She hadn’t been there.
She couldn’t have been there.This happened years ago.Before Mateo.Before Roman.Before her.But there she stood.Barefoot.Wearing his shirt.The way she looked when she crossed Mateo’s property in the middle of the night to climb into his bed.
“Chris?”His heart stopped.“Camila, get down.”She looked confused. “Why?”
“GET DOWN!”A man appeared behind her.Gun raised.Chris tried to move.His body wouldn’t cooperate.
“Camila!”She turned.The gun fired.Chris came awake fighting.His arm shot out.His hand closed around a wrist.He twisted.Someone gasped.
“Chris!”His other hand was already reaching for the nightstand.Drawer.Gun.
“Chris!”He froze.Dark bedroom.His apartment.Not the warehouse.No gunfire.No blood.No concrete.Just—Camila.Chris released her instantly. “Fuck.”
He scrambled backward.“Jesus Christ.”Camila sat beside him.Her eyes were wide.
Chris stared at her.Then the room.Window.Door.Closet.Nightstand.
Camila.Safe.He dragged both hands down his face.“Fuck.”His breathing wouldn’t slow.“Chris?”
“I’m fine.”The lie sounded pathetic even to him.Camila moved closer.Chris shifted away.“Don’t.”She stopped.Not offended.Just waiting.Chris swung his legs over the side of the bed.His elbows landed on his knees.
His hands shook.Actually shook.He curled them into fists.“Goddammit.”
Camila had never seen him like this.Chris knew that.Roman didn’t shake.
Roman smiled when guns came out.Roman joked when people threatened him.Roman drove through an attack like it was another day at work.Roman always had an answer.Tonight there was no Roman.Just a man sitting on the edge of his bed trying to convince his body he wasn’t bleeding out on a warehouse floor.Camila slowly moved beside him.She didn’t touch him.Not yet. “What happened?”
“Nightmare.”
“I know.”Chris stared at the floor.“Go back to sleep.”
“No.”
“Camila.”
“No questions.”That made him look at her.She shook her head.“I’m not asking.”Chris swallowed.“You want to.”
“Yes.”He almost smiled.At least she was honest.“But I won’t.
”His eyes moved away.Silence.Then Camila asked softly:“Can I touch you?”Chris closed his eyes.Jesus.She shouldn’t have had to ask.He nodded.Camila’s hand settled between his shoulder blades.Warm.Gentle.Real.Chris breathed.Once.Twice.Again.Her hand moved slowly over his back.
“Whatever it was,” she whispered, “you’re here.
”Chris stared at the floor.His throat tightened.Camila didn’t know how close she’d gotten.Didn’t know the nightmare had been built around something real.The warehouse.The shooting.The blood.The moment his cover had nearly collapsed.She didn’t know she’d somehow ended up inside the nightmare too.That was new.That terrified him more than the memory.Camila shifted closer.Chris finally turned.She saw his face.And something in hers broke.Not pity.Thank God.Just concern.
“Come here.”Chris almost laughed.
“What?”
“Come here.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re shaking.”He looked at his hands.
“Adrenaline.”
“Chris.”There wasn’t judgment in her voice.No suspicion.No interrogation.Just his name.Chris let her pull him back against the pillows.Camila wrapped herself around him.For once, he didn’t hold her.
She held him.His head rested against her chest.One of her hands moved through his short blond hair.The other rested against his back.Chris stared into the darkness.
“This is embarrassing.”
“There he is.”He frowned.“What?”
“The joke.”
“Wasn’t a joke.”
“Close enough.”His mouth twitched.Camila kissed his forehead.
“You don’t always have to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make everything funny so nobody notices when something hurts.”Chris went completely still.Camila immediately realized she’d gone somewhere deeper than intended.“Sorry.”
“No.”He swallowed.“Don’t apologize.”
She resumed running her fingers through his hair.For several minutes, neither spoke.“Was it about getting shot?”
Chris’s body tensed.Camila felt it.“Forget I asked.”He could lie.He should lie.
Instead:“Yes.”One word.True.Camila’s arms tightened around him.Chris stared at the wall.“I thought I was going to die.”
He didn’t know why he said it.The words simply came.Camila stopped breathing for a second.Chris had never told her that.
Never told anyone outside the Bureau what that night had felt like.He continued before he could stop himself.“I remember being on the floor.”His voice was low.
“Couldn’t get up.”Camila said nothing.
“There was blood everywhere.”Her hand continued moving through his hair.“I knew I was losing too much.”Chris swallowed.“And I remember thinking…”
He stopped.“What?” she whispered.
He closed his eyes.“I wasn’t ready.”
Camila kissed his temple.Chris breathed slowly.No Roman.No cover story.No carefully prepared FBI legend.Just truth.
Not all of it.But enough.Camila held him tighter.“You survived.”
“Yeah.”
“And whoever did that to you?”Chris stared into the darkness.“Doesn’t matter anymore.”It mattered.Just not tonight.
Camila didn’t ask again.She simply held him.Eventually his breathing slowed.His muscles relaxed.His eyes became heavy.
And sometime before dawn, Chris Walker fell asleep in Camila Vargas’s arms.
The vibration came at 6:42 a.m.Chris’s eyes opened.He didn’t move.Another vibration.Not his regular phone.His stomach dropped.FBI phone.Shit.
Chris carefully lifted Camila’s arm from his chest.She stirred.He froze.Her breathing remained slow.He slipped out of bed.The phone vibrated again.Where the fuck had he put it?Chris grabbed his jeans from the floor.Nothing.Jacket.Nothing.
Another vibration.“Shit.”He followed the sound into the living room.His jacket from yesterday was hanging over a chair.Inside pocket.Chris pulled out the secure phone.
SLOAN.Double shit.He glanced toward the bedroom.Quiet.Chris answered in a whisper.“What?”
“Good morning to you too.”
“Sloan.”
“You missed check-in.”Chris looked at the time.Fuck.“I know.”
“You know?”
“I overslept.”There was a pause.“You?”
“Yes, me.”
“Chris Walker overslept?”
“Apparently it’s possible.”
“Are you compromised?”
“No.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Then why did you miss a mandatory check-in?”Chris rubbed his forehead.“I have company.”Silence.Then:“Oh.”Chris closed his eyes.“Don’t.”
“Camila?”He lowered his voice further.
“I’m not discussing this.”
“So yes.”
“Sloan.”
“You brought the target’s sister to your apartment?”
“She’s not the target.”
“You know exactly what I mean.”Chris walked farther into the kitchen.“I can’t talk.”
“I need your warehouse update.”
“Not now.”
“Walker.”
“I said not now.”
“Did Mateo mention Friday again?”Chris’s eyes moved toward the bedroom.He wasn’t answering that.Not with Camila twenty feet away.“Sloan.”
“What?”
“I. Have. Company.”
“I understand that.”
“Apparently you don’t.”He opened the refrigerator for absolutely no reason other than needing something to do with his hands.Sloan sighed.“When are you coming in?”
“Later.”
“How much later?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mercer wants you here before ten.”
“Fine.”
“And Chris?”
“What?”
“This is exactly what we talked about.”
His jaw tightened.“Not at six forty-two in the morning.”
“She’s sleeping beside you while you’re working an investigation into her brother.”
“I fucking know.”Chris immediately lowered his voice.“Shit.”He looked toward the bedroom.Nothing.Sloan went quiet.
Then:“You need distance.”
“No.”
“Chris.”
“No.”
“You can’t keep doing both.”
“Watch me.”
“This isn’t a joke.”
“I know.”
“Eventually one of those worlds is going to find the other.”Chris stared at the floor.He knew.Better than anyone.“I have to go.”
“Walker—”
“I’ll be there later.”He disconnected.Chris stood in the kitchen holding the phone.Then turned.The bedroom doorway was empty.Good.
He slipped the secure phone back into his jacket.He waited another second.
Then walked toward the bedroom.
Camila lay exactly where he’d left her.