Epilogue One
I’m taping and marking boxes in Naomi’s bedroom. It’s taking a fair bit of my discipline not to pull out everything she packed—photos, writing, objects. The physical touchstones of the woman I love are almost too irresistible to ignore.
But I told her I’d have these packed and ready to go by the time Naomi got back from lunch with her mother.
After the dust had settled from my fight with Logan, Spencer debriefed us.
"We've recovered extensive documentation of Director Graves operations.
El Centinela, the trafficking, the black sites, all of it," Spencer explained.
My arm was wrapped in a field dressing, blood seeping through despite my advanced healing abilities.
Naomi sat beside me, her fingers intertwined with mine, gripping tightly.
We weren’t letting each other go again.
“The higher-ups are scrambling, but there's no containing this." He looked directly at Naomi, a hint of relief softening his features. "But because there isn't any containing it, your name has been cleared. All charges dropped."
"What about Walker?" she asked, her hand tightening around mine.
Spencer sighed, running a hand over his short hair. "That's... more complicated. There are a lot of bodies, Walker."
"I did what I had to do," I said simply. The words hung in the air, neither apology nor regret.
"I know." Spencer met my gaze evenly. "And I suppose what El Centinela was benefits you. It was you up against government agents, but it was also an American in mutual combat on foreign soil."
“I doubt Mexico wants to make an issue of this," Naomi interjected.
Spencer shook his head. “And frankly, most of those 'bodies' were either people we've been trying to take down for years or people who don't technically exist. The government isn't exactly eager to broadcast what happened.
Too many uncomfortable questions about black ops programs and genetic modifications. "
"So what does all that mean?" Naomi pressed, her analyst's mind cutting straight to the implications.
"It means," Spencer said carefully, "that as far as official records are concerned, Walker Cole doesn't exist. Never has and still doesn't have to."
I fold another box, creasing the edges with my thumbs. Spencer's words echo in my mind—I still don't exist. Not officially. I'm still a ghost with no past, no records, no identity beyond what I claim in the moment.
My fingers brush against something tucked in the back of her closet—a small wooden box, worn at the edges from years of handling.
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I carefully open it to find a photograph.
A much younger Naomi sits atop what must be her father's shoulders at what looks like a state fair, cotton candy clutched in one small fist, her smile wide and uninhibited.
Even then, those eyes held the same determined spark I've come to love.
I stare at the image, tracing the outline of her face with my fingertip. My past is a cipher. Hers is a past bursting—filled with normal, human, loving moments like this one.
But I can’t be a ghost anymore. Naomi. Living, vivacious, beautiful Naomi has breathed life back into me. I’ve plunged into the stream of her life, and she’s carrying me along with the force with which she lives every moment.
During the debrief, Spencer had also told Naomi that the agency would take her back. That she would be promoted.
She didn’t respond then. After we discussed it, she decided she wanted to move on. With me. She backed up what she said to me at Camp Titan. She didn’t trust the agency or the law. She trusts me. And she wants to create something together.
So we’re moving to Montana, and I’m going to build her that cabin. We’re going to start a private security and search-and-rescue operation.
From now on, we choose what battles to fight. Together.
Of course, Naomi is fighting her very first battle out at lunch. With her mother. I offered to come with her. I wanted to meet Mrs. Barrett. But Naomi got a strange look on her face and made it clear she needed to break the news to her mother first.
My train of thought is broken by the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut.
“Okay, where is he?” an unfamiliar female voice says.
“Mom!” Naomi admonishes.
Seems like lunch went well.
I have the training and the skills to slip out of heavily guarded installations.
Now I would never use that training to avoid meeting Naomi’s mother, who is clearly on the hunt for me.
But given her tone, boy, am I tempted.
Instead, I set the box down and move toward the stairs, hearing Vivian Barrett prowling down below.
"Your poor mother has to see you arrested, put in prison. Then they say you’re a fugitive, armed and dangerous.
I didn’t know whether you were alive or dead.
And you come back, and you’re safe and sound, and I thank God.
But you tell me you meet some guy in the woods and you quit your job and you're just going to pick up and move across the country with him? "
I pause at the top of the stairs, listening.
I ain’t hiding.
I’m… scouting.
"I know it's a lot," Naomi says, her voice understanding but firm. "But I'm not making this decision lightly. He's the best man I've ever met. He saved me. And after what happened, I can’t work for the agency. And I don’t want to do any of this alone. I want to do it with him."
Can’t help the smile that puts on my face.
I walk down the rest of the stairs. They don’t see me. But I see Mrs. Barrett place her hands on Naomi’s shoulders.
“I’m thankful he was there to help you. And I don’t doubt you have feelings. I just don’t understand how you could just up and move and change your life for a man you just met.”
“You’ve been on me about finding a boyfriend for years. Grandbabies, grandbabies, grandbabies. You’re getting too old. You won’t live to see any. And now it’s too fast?”
“You’ve just had a traumatic experience. I’m just worried that you’re putting your feelings in the wrong place!”
Well, I think that’s my cue. I clear my throat and say, "Hello.”
They both turn. Naomi’s mother is an attractive woman. In fact, I’m not sure Naomi got any of her father in her looks. And if her mother is any indication, Naomi will be gorgeous forever.
Mrs. Barrett looks at me, startled by my presence even though she was on the hunt for me.
“Oh,” she says, like she’s made a discovery.
She looks up and down all six foot four inches of me.
Her face turns from surprise, to wonder, to understanding.
“Oh,” she says, about an octave lower, as if it’s completely clear why Naomi would move across the country with me.
“I’m Walker. Walker Cole.”
“Mom, stop staring,” Naomi hisses at her mother and gently nudges Mrs. Barrett’s arm.
“Pleased to meet you,” I say when Mrs. Barrett still doesn’t say anything, and offer my hand.
Mrs. Barrett still doesn’t speak. She doesn’t take my hand either. Instead, she rushes in and hugs me. If my face wasn’t red before, it sure is now.
“Thank you for bringing my daughter back to me,” she whispers against my chest, her embrace tight, emphasizing her words and the sentiment behind them.
She pulls away and looks up at me, her eyes watery and full of gratitude.
“My daughter hasn't told me everything that happened to her.
" She glances back at Naomi before meeting my eyes again.
"But I know that if you weren't there, she might not have made it through. "
I want to tell her that Naomi is stronger than she knows, but that’s not what Mrs. Barrett is looking for.
"You're welcome," I say simply.
Mrs. Barrett nods and pats my arm, her eyes searching mine. "You know, the greatest thing Naomi's father ever did for me was make me feel safe. I imagine you do the same for her."
It's not an observation. It's a request, a charge, from mother to her new protector.
"Always," I promise. Whether Naomi keeps me by her side or not, I will ensure her safety until my last breath.
“My name’s Vivian, by the way.”
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
“Pleased to meet you, Walker.” Mrs. Barrett looks up at me, all fire and pathos gone, a serene smile on her face. "I'd better go," she says suddenly.
"What, that’s it? I thought you were going to grill him. Tall and handsome is enough?" Naomi protests.
“Naomi—" I admonish.
Mrs. Barrett puts her purse back on and shrugs. “Your father was tall and handsome. And had a cute butt. It was enough for me.”
“Mom!” Naomi yells, but she’s laughing too. So am I.
Mrs. Barrett wraps her arms around her daughter one more time. Tight. “I’m so glad you’re safe, sweetheart. And that you have someone who will keep you that way.” Mrs. Barrett pulls back and looks at both of us. “Take care of each other.”
“We will,” Naomi says.
“I’m going to be visiting all the time.”
“I’m building you a guest room,” I say.
Mrs. Barrett’s eyebrows rise, “Tall, cute butt, and handy. I guess you really—”
“Bye, Mom,” Naomi says, laughing again and shooing her mother out the door.
“Bye, Walker, see you soon!”
“Bye, Mrs. Barrett.”
“Call me Vivian, please!” She just gets out before Naomi shuts the door on her. Naomi wraps her arms around my waist, leaning into me with a smile.
“You weren’t lying about your mom. She is something,” I say to the top of Naomi’s head.
Naomi laughs. “She is. But I think Mom gets it now, looking at you. A girl can't resist." Her smile falters as she studies my face. "What's wrong?"
I shake my head. "I'm sorry. I overheard some of that conversation. Didn't mean to eavesdrop, but—" I shrug, not knowing how to finish.
"Well, I'm sorry. My mother means well—"
"Your mother loves you," I interrupt. "And was asking a good question. It is pretty sudden.”
“So what? Sometimes life happens quickly.”
I swallow hard, thinking about Naomi mentioning her mother constantly asking about grandchildren. "We never talked about kids.”
Naomi looks up at me. “There’s lots of stuff we haven’t talked about.”
“I know. But kids are a big one.”
“They are.”
"Do you want them?"
Naomi pauses, considering. "Yeah. I think so. Honestly, it felt so far away from my life before that it just seemed like something that was a possibility off in the distance." Her eyes drop to my lips, then back to my eyes. "Feels a lot closer now."
I sigh. "Maybe not as close as you think."
"What do you mean?"
It takes me a moment. The words feel like stones in my throat.
"I know what the experiments gave me. All my gifts. But nothing’s free in this world. I'm not sure what it took from me. I'm not sure how long I'll live. And I don't know if I can give you children."
"Oh," Naomi says quietly.
I nod, unable to meet her gaze. Her hand touches my face, gently forcing me to look at her.
"My mother was right. I wouldn't have survived this without you.
" I start to shake my head, but she stops me.
"It's true. But she's also right that this is all too fast." My stomach drops, and my heart breaks its rhythm.
"But," she continues, her eyes never leaving mine, "just as I'm sure that you saved me, and that this is way too fast, I'm just as sure that whatever comes our way, we'll figure it out. Look what we already did together."
"We do make a hell of a team," I say, smiling.
"We do. So kids, no kids, a few years... forever. I know I want to take this ride with you."
I pull her closer, my forehead resting against hers. "I didn't think life could feel this way."
"Me neither," she whispers.
I kiss her. And she kisses me back. And it’s staggering just how enough of an answer her lips on mine can be to what comes next.