UNFORGETTABLE (Able Series Book 3) (35 page)

“Alright, give me one good, solid push, Roxy,” Dr. Resenthal once again says. Hopefully, this is the last time.

“Push, push, push, push, push,. . . .” Beth cheers on again.

I’m about to tell her something when I hear a cry . . . no, a wail . . . no, it’s an angelic noise that jump starts my heart to new bounds. My lips leave my love’s forehead as my eyes land on the second human being I’m ready to die for, no questions asked.

My son’s life for mine. The same concept as his mom, the girl who started it all.

Dr. Rosenthal hands him to me, and I look at Roxy, asking for permission if it’s okay that I hold our son first. I want this experience to be hers first because she always comes first in my world. She nods as tears slide down her face.

As soon as my son is safely nestled in my arm, I’m speechless for once in my life. He looks at me as I’m looking at him, and an instant connection from a father to his son soon follows. My eyes starts to well up, wishing my parents were here to enjoy this moment, to hold him as I am, to love him as I will. Instead, I hold onto my son’s little hand and raise it slightly up toward the heavens.

“Hey kiddo. Thank God, now I have a helper in watching over your mommy. Are you up for the challenge?” My son blinks, not once, but twice in affirmation. “You wanna see your mommy? Three things Son; one, prepare your eyes to see the most beautiful woman on Earth. Two, prepare to hear your heart thump so loudly when your eyes lock with hers, and three, prepare to fall in love with your mommy.”

Roxy reaches for him, and it’s game over for me . . . seeing the two people who own my heart is a game changer for me. This is it, a life of servitude for me; and I accept it gladly . . . openly . . . willingly.

“Hello, Corey Matthew Davis. You look exactly like your daddy. I hope you grow up to be just like him. He’s my fierce protector, and he’ll be yours, too.” My wife looks at me with so much love in her eyes, I feel I’m out of breath but breathing at the same time. “I’ve fallen in love for the second time in my life, Cody.”

“Me too, baby.” I take a deep breath in before making the most important promise of my life for the second time. “Love, I promise, I will love and protect our son as I do you. There’s nothing—nothing I won’t do for him. My life for his just like—my life for yours.”

Tears escape her eyes while my lips land on hers, then I kiss my son. This right here, within the four walls of this room rests my world. The two most important, valuable, unmistakable loves of my life.

STANDSTILL

GOODBYES & DECISIONS

SOPHIA

SIX MONTHS IN THE FUTURE

STUPIDLY, I ADMIT TO THE
man who’ll never see me as anything more that I love him. Why? I know why. For once in my life, I’m making a choice—mine. I don’t need to consult anyone or pencil it on my calendar. I made an adult decision without considering how my moment of bravery will affect my heart. Who cares about my heart, anyway? A sad smile escapes my lips remembering when I actually told him, I love you.

“Luke, can you please give me just . . . ten . . . ten minutes to talk to Damien?”

Luke, who has been on my detail for the past three years gives me a brotherly look. The kind that says I’m not going to like what he’s about to say.

Scrunching his brow, he says, “Soph, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Before losing my new found confidence, I cut him off, “I need to do this, Luke. The campaign starts tomorrow, and he won’t be on my detail anymore. I won’t see him after today. Please.”

“I can’t take the bullet for you on this one, kid. Are you sure you can handle this?”

I swallow twice, steeling my resolve. “Yes.”

Nodding he puts his hand over his mouth to talk on his mic that’s hidden under the sleeve of his suit jacket. “Damien, get in the car, ‘Wildflower’ is moving. Everyone take your positions.”

I roll my eyes after Luke says my codename. I don’t even know why I was assigned that name. Wildflower? Really? Luke moves, and I walk behind him willing my heart to stop thudding like a jackhammer. I need to do this . . . I need to do this . . . yes, I do! As soon as Brody opens the door, I climb in and pull it shut.

I take in a few deep breaths, blowing them out as slowly as I can as
my shield
talks over his mic.

“She’s in. We’re ready to roll.”

It’s now or never. . . .

“I can’t do this anymore, Damien.”

“Sophia . . .” he sternly warns me.

“No,” I softly answer. “I need you to know how I feel. For once in my life, I want to say what I want to say . . . what I need to say. I don’t know when it happened, but it happened, anyway. I can’t control who my heart calls too.” I exhale to help relieve the trembling in my voice.

“I already explained to you the reason why, Sophia. Why are you making it so difficult?”

“Difficult? You’re right about that one. It wasn’t always easy to love you . . . but I still do. The brush offs are the most painful . . . the silence is like darts that always seem to land right where it hurts . . . the denial of what you feel is the worst. I’m done hoping, and that’s okay. Before I go though, I just want to tell you . . . I love you . . . will love you until there’s nothing left to feel.”

He turns to face me, but his eyes are covered, like always, with his annoying Oakley’s. Why even bother looking at him. . . . so I don’t. I look out the window instead.

“I’m here to do a job . . . an important one. Don’t complicate things, Sophia. Don’t.” His voice still resonates in my ears, his words are full of heat aimed straight to my waiting defenseless heart.

He leaves and walks directly toward Brody who’s standing directly in front of me. Once again, I’m enclosed in the safest car on Earth, but why doesn’t my heart ever feel safe in it?

Memories are mostly supposed to bring a smile to someone’s face. They bring sadness or resignation to mine, instead. I’m sitting on the steps that lead to the Rose Garden enjoying my final night in D.C. To most, the Rose Garden is synonymous to my dad’s press conferences with dignitaries, but to me, this is where I sit and think about life; and that’s exactly what I’m doing right now. The different hues of roses signifies, the different stages of my life while living in this place. Tears escape my eyes; tears I’ve been trying to control, but sometimes the pain grips too tightly and they fall unknowingly.

“Sophia, are you ready to head inside?”

His voice is my undoing . . . or the undoing of my tears and the devastation of my heart. They fall without permission, without any sense of self preservation. Why is it I always . . . always can’t get what I want—what I need? Why is it that whoever I need doesn’t need me, or worse doesn’t want me.

“Is there anything you want me to get for you?”

I shake my head in response. I don’t trust my voice not to squeak like a needy person. But, like always, he makes sure I’m fine without touching me. A piece of me dies every time he does that. Ever since that confession, he was moved back to my father’s detail. Hence, him standing beside the steps outside of the Oval Office.

I hear the door leading to the Oval Office open, my shoulders tense waiting on the most powerful man in the world to tell me what I need to do. But. . . .

“Is everything okay here, Damien?”

I wait for a few seconds to hear a response, but silence greets me once again which causes more tears to fall. How can I feel so protected and yet so alone.

“Yes, Mr. President,” he answers respectfully. His voice solid as always.

I don’t know who inhaled deeply. I’m guessing my dad did, because the man that holds my heart is forever in control of his emotions.

“For one second, I don’t want you to do your job. Talk to her . . . get.it.done,” my father instructs, and of course, he’ll follow. . . . he always follows orders—except mine.

Goodbyes—I hate them.

Because he always gives them to me.

DAMIEN

SIX MONTHS PRIOR

“Good morning, Mr. President,” I say with a nod.

“Can you walk with me, Damien?”

As we walk along the corridor of the residence to the elevator leading to the west wing, my mind is going a mile a minute thinking of what the President wants to tell me. Have I failed him? Have I missed something while we were at Camp David this past weekend? My musing stops once we hop in the elevator.

“Dad! Wait up. I need to ask you something,” Sophia, the President’s daughter shouts causing my erratic heart to pound even more mercilessly.

I hold the elevator door for her, not wanting it to hit her soft white skin. Only because it’s part of our job to keep our charge safe.

“Yes, princess. What do you have in mind?”

“Remember my interview a couple of months back on FoxNews with Hannity? I promised to visit Walter Reed Hospital, so before I get criticized, I want to do it now. My schedule is open tomorrow. What do you think?”

As always I stay stoic, unmoving behind them. Listening, but not wanting to hear anything at all. I’m not part of her detail, so that nightmare is out of my hands.

“Did you swing this idea by your mom? She can go with you.”

“Alright, then it’s done. I’ll have her set the time and the logistics.” She smiles up to her dad who smiles at her lovingly.

The only time I see the President let his guard down is whenever Sophia shows affection. He forgets about everything else. His focus is entirely hers and hers alone. Based on the gleam in her eyes, this is something she treasures beyond words.

I can’t wait to exit the elevator, so I don’t have to be in close proximity of the girl that just drives me insane. . . . and not in a good way.

“I’ll see you tonight, Dad! Have a fun day at work!” She giddily says as she walks toward the desk of Vivian, her dad’s personal aide.

Before going into the Oval Office, Daniel Andrews, turns and says, “Please, Sophia, be nice to your agents today. Act your age, will ya?”

She rolls her eyes. “I always act my age, Dad. It’s the people who have sticks up their asses who can’t handle a little bit of fun. You need to talk them. I’m only twenty three, Dad. I don’t want to act like a bulldog who’s upset all the time even at a ripe age of thirty.”

That’s a dig, and my hands itch to wring her neck this time. Forget about spanking, that shit is never going to work.

“Damien, please come with me. I need to talk to you about something.”

As we both walk into the Oval Office, my mind quickly leaves the brat currently sitting on Vivian’s desk and centers on what the most powerful man on Earth needs to talk to me about. He sits on the sofa in front of his desk and signals for me to take a seat across from him.

“Damien, I’ve seen your dedication and discipline while on my detail. I’ve already talked to Bill and suggested that you be switched to my daughter’s detail. I know she’ll listen to you, or let me re-phrase that. . . . you’re the only one I think who can make her listen. Not that she doesn’t know how, but she always seems to pull a fast one on Luke. Plus. . . .” He stops and laughs while shaking his head. “I don’t want Luke to die of a heart attack at such a young age.” Stopping again to think, appearing somber. “Are you up for the challenge?”

I sit up straight as I twine my fingers together. “The challenge isn’t the problem, Mr. President. I don’t think Sophia and I can share the same air space.”

“You have carte blanche on my daughter’s safety, Damien. You come with great recommendations, not only from your peers, but your superiors. I can sleep well at night knowing my daughter is in good hands.”

“Carte blanche? Are you sure, Mr. President? I’ll follow protocols, but what I won’t change is the manner in which I execute them. I’m used to people following my orders, and if they’re not followed, consequences are given, strictly and without mercy.”

He cocks his head to the side as he eyes me. “Strictly, without mercy. I like that. Just remember, she’s my princess.”

He stands to shake my hand, and I take it, doing what I do best, I accept the challenge.

“I’ll remember, Sir; she’s your princess, but while she’s my charge . . . I’ll make her my queen. I’m her shield until you tell me to stand down.”

As I walk out of the Oval Office straight to the office of the Director of the Secret Service, I ponder what I’ve gotten myself into. I’ve officially died and gone straight to the pits of hell.

Decisions—I love making them.

But, not this one . . . I hope my heart stands still. I can’t afford it to beat for anyone, least of all her.