Covertly Strong (The Strong Series Book 1) (48 page)

“You need some fresh air, Boss. She’s stable and I know she would want you to get some fresh air,” he demands.

“I’m not fucking leaving her,” Nix responds sharply.

“Come on. I promise she’ll be fine. I’ll even sit here with her while you go grab a cup of coffee or something,” Julian adamantly urges as he motions for him to stand.

“I can’t… I just can’t leave her.” Nix’s voice is broken as his eyes refuse to leave her prone form.

“Yes, you can. I promise it’s going to be okay.”

Nix sighs heavily, even the simple process of exhaling feeling like the most impossible task. He finally pulls his eyes away from Sloan and turns in his chair, facing Julian. That’s when he realizes that not only is Julian standing by his side, but so are Slade and Andrew and Rob. Four of his closest brothers refusing to leave his side—refusing to leave Texas—until Sloan’s condition improves.

He hesitantly stands to his feet, eyeing Julian with a stern expression. “Stay here. Don’t fucking leave her side. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Julian fights the smirk that threatens to turn his lips. He’s thankful for the small victory and only nods in response to Nix’s strict words.

Nix slowly walks out of the room, glancing back at Sloan several times before finally moving past the doorway with three of his closest friends.

Julian sits down beside Sloan, his emerald eyes looking down at the serene expression on her face. The hospital room and her unconscious state threaten to flood a rush of painful memories into his mind. Memories he’s refused to think about. Memories he strives to forget. He closes his eyes and takes a resounding breath, digging deep for the strength to focus on the present. After a few minutes, he’s back in the here and now and his past full of painful memories is pushed back down into the depths of his soul.

“You know, I thought I was going to have to drag his ass out of here kicking and screaming. He hasn’t left your side since we got you out of that shithole,” he whispers in her direction as he grasps her hand in his.

“He loves you, you know. Fuck, of course you know,” he chuckles lightly. “You’ve got that man by the fucking balls. The strongest, most courageous guy I’ve ever met is wrapped around your little fingers. He won’t leave here until you do. So I think it’s time you channel that fiery-as-fuck personality you’ve got buried deep inside of you and come back to us…come back to him. He needs you, doll. Nix needs you.” Julian bows his head and rests it against the side rail of Sloan’s hospital bed as he continues to clutch her hand in his.

Minutes tick by as he silently prays for the first time in his life. He prays for her, he prays for Nix, and he prays for two people who deserve to be together. Two people who deserve a chance at their happy ending.

As her monitors continue to play their familiar beeping tune—and Julian silently stays at Sloan’s side—the slightest twitch of her delicate fingers vibrates the palm of his hand. His eyes abruptly glance down at their conjoined hands before moving to her face, and that’s when he sees it—the teeniest, tiniest smile works at the corners of her pink lips.

And he knows.

It’s only a matter of time before Nix gets
his Meli
back.

THE FAINT
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP
from the various machines Sloan is hooked up to resonate inside the room. Her eyelids flutter open as the sound of a door shutting stirs her sleeping state. She observes Chief Dubois striding inside and making himself comfortable on the chair that rests beside her bed.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. His eyes show concern, yet the tone of his voice reveals his normally straight-to-the-point and stark demeanor.

“Like I got shot two times, kidnapped, tortured, and drugged,” she rasps out through the dryness that permeates her mouth.

As she attempts to adjust her lying form into a sitting position, Sloan winces from the incredible discomfort that radiates from every nerve ending in her body. She’s on the mend, but the road to recovery will definitely take some time. The moment she landed in Texas, she was rushed back to surgery to fix the horrendous job that had been performed on her gunshot injuries.

Two soft chuckles escape Chief Dubois’s lips. “I’d say that’s a fair assessment of your situation.” He pauses for a moment and stares straight into her eyes. “I’m glad that we got you out of there,” he announces quietly.

It’s tough for a man like Chief Dubois to reveal a soft, caring side, but he’d never been more relieved when he got the call that Black Mamba had Sloan—she was alive, and they were Air-Caring her straight to Texas for treatment.

Sloan nods in understanding as he fidgets in his seat, his discomfort noticeable.

“So did the job get finished?” she questions after taking a sip of water from the Styrofoam cup that rests on the bedside table.

His visible awkwardness of having his form of a heart-to-heart slowly dissipates as Sloan takes the conversation towards more comfortable territories. “Yes. After you were and Alejandra Arturo retrieved—“

She cuts him off, shocked by that omission. “Alejandra is in the States?”

He nods. “She’s actually here, in this hospital, recovering,” he updates but is stopped again.

“She’s still in the hospital? I don’t understand. Was she badly injured?” Sloan questions anxiously.

Chief shakes his head. “No, she’s doing well. She had to undergo minor treatment for injuries and some psych evaluations because of the way you two were found in the compound, but that’s really it. Honestly, she’s still here because we’re still working on getting her back to Mexico,” he informs her and then proceeds to finish his original point. “So after you two were rescued, another SEAL Team went in eighteen hours later and finished the job. They took out Hector and most of the leaders within the Arturo family. We’re still in search of Nico Delgado, but I have a feeling he won’t get too far. And any evidence they had on Dr. Felicia Santora was destroyed before it got into the hands of the wrong people.”

He takes a breath and laughs lightly. “I was surprised that they had zero information on Agent L-55. I’m guessing this is because you’re more stubborn than a mule and stronger than any agent I’ve ever seen.”

Sloan smirks at his amused expression. “There was no way in hell I was giving them intel.” She glances down at the stark, white sheet resting over her lap, her fingers adjusting it involuntarily. “I was prepared to die in that compound, Chief,” she whispers. “I was prepared to die.” She fights back the tears that threaten to spill from her eyes, the heavy realization of how lucky she was to get out of there weighing on her mind.

Chief continues on with the conversation, trying to steer it back towards something less emotional. “With the help of the microchips you put into Arturo’s main source of drug smugglers, we’ve dismantled the Arturo family and two other known drug cartels within the Mexican border.”

A small, lonely tear manages to slip down her cheekbone; her fingers quickly swipe it away. “That was all accomplished in the span of a few days?” she questions with confusion.

“No, that took nearly two weeks to accomplish,” he answers resolutely.

“Two weeks? I don’t understand…” she trails off as she tries to piece the days of the past together in her mind. The last memories she has are seeing Nix’s blue eyes staring down into hers when he came to her rescue at the compound and then miraculously seeing his handsome face hovering anxiously over her bedside for a brief moment. Everything is blank after that.

“You’ve been in here for two weeks, in and out of consciousness for the most part. Your body has been through a lot. The gunshots, the injuries”—his eyes search hers as he prepares himself to tell her the rest—“and the drugs they put into your body have required a long recovery to get you to this point.”

“What drugs? I know what they used on me to get me to the compound, but what were they putting in my system while I was there?” Her voice shakes from the uncertainty. Flashes of distorted images from her time spent at the compound begin to dominate her brain.

“Well…” Dubois runs his hand over his bald head. “The doctors found traces of Rohypnol, GHB, ketamine, and…heroin in your system.”

Her breath catches in her lungs as she struggles to continue the process of simply inhaling and exhaling. “They found heroin in my system?”

Chief nods in response.

“Why were they dosing me with well-known date rape drugs and heroin?” she asks. It’s the one question she’s not sure she’s prepared to hear the answer to.

“Are you sure you want to have this conversation right now? This is the first time you’ve been fully awake in fourteen days…” He stops, gauging her reaction closely.

“I need to know, Chief. I deserve to fucking know what happened to me at that compound,” she demands.

“There are videos that were confiscated from the compound. From what we could gather, Hector Arturo was pretty irate that you refused to give him any information or leads in reference to Agent L-55. He killed Agent Sims in a very brutal way that I do not wish to discuss. He beat you, tortured you, kept you hostage in his compound, and had plans of initiating you into his sex trafficking circuit. That’s what the drugs were for. You were drugged with the goal of making you unable to resist…” He pauses and shuts his eyes, his facial expression is one of discomfort.

“There are three particular videos of you that I honestly don’t think you should watch, but I will tell you that, even with those drugs in your system…you did resist. Hector’s plans for you did not go as he wished, and if we wouldn’t have gotten to you when we did, I’m not sure how many more hours you would have survived. You were badly dehydrated, had a significant amount of blood loss from the gunshots, and you were nearly septic from the infection that rested inside those injuries.”

He lets out a harsh sigh. “All I can say is Hector Arturo was a very sick and twisted individual. You were only inside that compound for a little over seventy-two hours, and things he put you through are downright unfathomable. If any other woman…” He releases a shaky laugh. “Hell, if anyone else, man or woman, had been put through what you went through…I don’t think they would have come out alive.”

Sloan can only respond with a nod. Her brain is in shock from everything she just heard. Her hands shake from the emotional and physical pain she had to endure.

The room remains quiet around them as she tries to absorb all of the information he just provided her. Her mind and heart scream for her to speak the only words that make sense in this situation, the only words that will make everything right.

“Chief, I want to see those videos, and I want out. I want to live my life again,” she adamantly expresses with strong eyes and an unwavering voice.

“I don’t think you should watch those videos—” he starts to explain, but she cuts him off.

“I’m only going to say this one more time… Give me the videos and accept my official resignation.”

He scrubs at his face with an irritated hand, a heavy sigh escaping his lungs. “You’re really giving me your resignation?
Right now
? This is the first time you’ve really been awake for days. Don’t you think it would be a good idea to think this over? This has been your career, your life, for the past ten years, Fifty-Five.”

“That’s exactly my point. This has been my life for ten years, and where has it gotten me? I was kidnapped, shot, beaten, drugged, and practically raped by some of the worst criminals we’ve ever seen. So I will say it again….
I. Want. Out
. I want to be Sloan again.” Her voice rises with each word as she refuses to back down from this.

She is done.

She is ready to move on with her life and find some kind of happiness.

He glances up at the ceiling, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re the best goddamn agent I have. I can’t let you go,” he responds quietly after his eyes make their way back to hers.

Sloan continues to hold her ground, refusing to take no for an answer. “Even if the Arturo family didn’t get any information on Agent L-55, my cover is blown. I can no longer go under the guise of Felicia Santora. And with all due respect, Chief, you don’t have a choice in the matter.” She pauses, staring directly at him to ensure that her point is understood.