Page 21 of The Awakening
In a moment, my quiet sob turns into a full-blown hysterical fit of crying. Standing from the table, I cover my face with my hands and quickly make my way out of the room. Running down the hall, I burst through the women’s locker room doors, still holding my now tear-soaked face. I don’t know why, but I find myself standing in my favorite shower stall and turning the water on to a freezing temperature. Standing under the ice-cold spray, I tilt my head to the ceiling and let the icy water pepper my face. I’m still fully clothed when I feel that unmistakable feeling of someone watching me. I know it’s him. His presence feels different from everyone else’s.
My skin turns hot even though I’m standing beneath ice-cold water. Butterflies erupt in my belly, and my heart races just from his eyes being on me. It’s a feeling that no one else can create within me but him.
“Everett, please, I need a moment,” I say into the spray, water bouncing off my lips as I speak. He doesn’t respond to me, but he also doesn’t leave. Truthfully, I don’t want him to leave, but I also hate crying in front of anybody. Hoping he finds a bench and waits for me to regain my composure, I turn away from the glass door of the shower and face the tiled wall, allowing myself to cry the tears I’ve been trying so hard to hold in. Lowering my head, I let myself feel, let the tsunami of pain and guilt flow into every crease and crevice of my body. I need to let myself feel everything. I need to allow the pain to hurt, bruise, and beat me from within. I desperately need to feel everything so I can release this box of darkness and focus all my energy on finding Colson.
I don’t hear the glass door open, but when Everett wraps his arms around my body, I no longer feel out of control. Slowly, my body begins to relax, and his warm embrace wraps tightly around my body. The feeling of stillness slowly takes over. My once raging wildfire of hurt and anguish now feels like a thunderous rainstorm reaching an end.
“Colson will never give up, nor will he surrender. He is trained for situations like these. He’s strong. He will survive this. We’re going to find him.”
February 1, 2022
The job was a shit show, an absolute fucking shit show. This specific job has sat with me more so than others due to the fact that the victims are so young—too young. I was sent to kill multiple targets in a warehouse where our intel informed us there were several females being kept in cages. They would have ultimately been sent off to be sold, but this warehouse was their holding compound, so to speak. It was awful. So many girls, barely teenagers and some so much younger, were kept like animals in metal cages where they could hardly move. We are not, under any circumstance, allowed to converse with the victims we save. However, I was specifically drawn to one girl in particular. She was unnervingly calm. Her composure and maturity with the whole situation she was currently in had my curiosity heightened. When the girls were brought to the safe location where they were given more clothes, food, and water, and I could confront her. She informed me that her name was Willow, a twenty-one-year-old from the UK. When I asked how she was so calm, she told me she knew she would be saved. She was expecting someone else to do the saving but, nevertheless she knew someone was coming to save her. Before I could ask who she thought was going to save her, I was escorted out and scolded for conversing with the victims. This small conversation I had with Willow has been on a loop in my head ever since.
Sitting at the kitchen island, my eyes start to feel heavy as I look over the blueprints of the Wallace compound for what feels like the millionth time. Everett, Dean, Arno, and I came back to the house after I finished up in the locker room to sit and plan our next move. We decided we would go in with a small team once again, but would allow for more surveillance this time, hoping to spot Colson. Since getting home, Everett and Dean have been in the office working with the tech Shadows to try to devise a plan to get surveillance in without being detected. Arno and I have been in the kitchen learning everything we can about the compound from satellite maps, GPS coordinates, and land surveys from the past that we’ve been fortunate enough to find.
Taking a break from looking over the maps that are sprawled out before me, I stand up from my chair and arch my back, stretching my tight muscles and letting out a groan. I rub my eyes with the palms of my hands, rubbing so hard they begin to water.
“Why don’t you turn in for the night? You’ve had an extremely long day. You need to get some rest,” Arno says to me, as I continue rubbing my face.
“I can’t. We need to keep going. Colson’s been out there for far too long. I won’t be able to rest until he’s home safe.” A yawn escapes my mouth as I make my way to the coffeepot to start a fresh pot. Before I’m even able to grab the pot, Dean’s hand is over mine.
“He’s right, love, you’ve had the longest day out of all of us. From the simulation to everything else. You need to rest.”
I bow my head, knowing they are both right, but how can I rest comfortably in my bed knowing he’s out there? What state is he currently in? The images of him being beaten and tortured flash through my brain and I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to see the horrors of what he’s been through.
“Don’t do that. Don’t create fake scenarios in your head about what he is possibly going through. They will destroy you.” Arno’s tone is somber, but his words feel like he is speaking from experience. I turn to look at him. His head is down and he looks to be examining the maps still, but his eyes are in a far-off place.
“He’s right, you know,” Dean whispers in my ear. “Come, I’ll help you to bed.” Accepting that there is no arguing with these men, I interlock my fingers with Dean’s and follow him to the stairs.
“Goodnight Arno,” I say to him, his eyes lifting to meet mine. “Goodnight, little one,” he replies to me with a small smile, pulling at his cheek.
Dean and I make our way up the stairs and straight to Colson’s room. We’ve become so used to sleeping in his bed since he’s been gone, it’s almost like we gravitate here rather than our own rooms. Dean makes his way to the nightstand, flipping on the switch and illuminating the room with the warmth of the bedside lamp. He then makes his way to Colson’s dresser and pulls out one of his shirts before turning back to me, where I sit on the edge of the bed.
“Tell me he’s alive, Dean. Tell me he’s okay,” I whisper, not allowing my voice to crack as the pain starts creeping up my throat once more. Dean kneels in front of me, his hands resting on my thighs as he lowers his head to look me in the eye.
“If I know Colson, and I know I do, he really is okay. He is fighting like hell to get back to you. He loves you Sloan, he’s never loved another being as much as he loves you. He wouldn’t give up on you, on us, on this wild life we’ve created together. He’s alive, baby girl, and we are going to find him.” Tears form in my eyes and one starts sliding down my cheek. Dean wipes it away before it reaches my jawline and holds my face with both of his large hands.
“Don’t do that. Don’t cry. We need you to be strong and focused. Don’t lose yourself in the thoughts you create in your head. Keep your eyes steady and know we’ll get him back.” I nod my head once. He’s right. I need to stay focused and ready, even if that means getting some rest. Dean kisses the tip of my nose before saying, “Good girl. Now up to bed.” He pulls the covers down and gestures for me to crawl under. Once I’m fully underneath the blankets, he covers me up and brushes my hair back from my head. His fingers tickle my cheek as he does.
“Stay with me until I fall asleep, please,” I whisper to him. Dean doesn’t answer me right away, instead he continues to brush my hair back with his fingers, scratching my scalp ever so lightly. I close my eyes at his touch, the sensation so soothing, so calming, I’m quickly drifting off to sleep before I know it.
“Colson, please, please wake up. Please don’t leave me.” I’m staring down at Colson’s face, the life inside his eyes slowly drifting away from me. Tears are gushing from my eyes as I’m hunched over his body. This can’t be happening; this can’t be how our story ends. Not like this. We never even had the chance to live. I choke out a sob from my throat as I grab his shoulders and shake violently trying to wake up, but it’s no use. He’s gone. His body is heavy in my grasp, and his hand falls from my arm as the fight inside him ends.
“Colson! Please, Colson, don’t leave me like this!” My vision blurs from the number of tears now blocking my vision. My body is shaking back and forth as I continue to cry. Someone behind me calls my name.
“Sloan, Sloan, open your eyes.” I know whose voice it is, but I can’t turn around to see. Still, he continues to call me. “Open your eyes, love.” Colson’s body is fading away—his body that was once in front of me has almost completely disappeared. The room around me is becoming brighter, as if I’m staring into a light.
“Sloan, open your eyes. You’re dreaming.” Everett’s voice becomes clearer as I’m able to open my eyes. The plane where I was kneeling has now turned into a familiar bedroom. I’m lying on my side, Everett’s body facing me as he rests on his elbow hovering over me.
“Everett?” I whisper in a sleepy voice.
“Yes, I’m here and so is Dean.” I turn my head slightly and see Dean behind me snuggled to my back as his hand starts rubbing my back. I sit up straight, realizing it was all a dream. My cheeks feel tight with dried tears, and I rub down my face with my hands.
“Are you okay? You were having a nightmare,” Dean says from my left, his voice sounding equally tired as mine.
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry I woke you both. I didn—” Everett cuts me off before I can continue.
“You don’t need to apologize to us, love. We just want to make sure you’re okay.” I turn my head and look over at him. Everett is still propped on his elbow as he stares at me. He’s shirtless and his hair is disheveled in that sexy “I woke up like this” kind of way. The blankets are resting at his hip, and he couldn’t look sexier if he tried. I give him a small smile and nod my head once.