Page 29 of Not Taken

I held on to him, desperately trying to keep him awake as tears beaded at the corners of my eyes.

There wasn't space for this.

He had to survive. No matter what the agents did to him, they would try to save him. I had to believe that.

Wariness crossed his face, his mouth closing as his chest heaved. And he said nothing.

Rasping breaths, a deep glare, he reached out and grasped my elbow, squeezing me. Though it was my good arm, pain still shuddered through me.

“What’s happening?” he asked again, his voice so groggy I thought he might pass out again.

I didn’t know how to explain to him what was about to happen because I didn’t know either.

I was exhausted. I didn’t realise how tired I was until the man I loved lay bleeding before me. I had my plan of revenge and the clear steps I had to take to achieve it. Sam was dead, I could leave Caleb to die and fish the gun out of the footwell of my car. Sam would appreciate the poetry of shooting myself with the gun that killed him.

But, like with my daughter, I had someone I needed to protect. I couldn't stop until I made sure Caleb lived. Some part of my heart that still beat with humanity urged me to make sure he survived. And not just because he was the only thing that brought me relief anymore.

The agents couldn’t see us, hidden by my body, so I took the chance to steal a kiss from him.

A tear slid down my cheek, landing on his own as I withdrew.

I brushed it away with the tip of my finger running over darkening bruises. “I love you,” I said, so quietly he might not have heard me. “I love you,” I repeated, loud enough that his eyes widened. “I love you so fucking much it hurts. So, please, Caleb, trust me. Whatever happens, believe that it’s for you.” It was a promise I didn't know that I could keep. I hadn't made a choice, but hope might drive him to try to live.

Fear beating off of him, Caleb's chest heaved again as he took a deep breath. “Fuck. You,” he gasped, his words almost lost through his rattling chest. “And your love.”

“Agent Knightly,” a voice loomed from behind me, and my muscles stiffened at the other agent’s voice. I gave Caleb a final look. I didn’t want to let him go, but who knew how many breaths he had left?

Caleb shot out a hand again and I winced as his fingers dug into my broken arm. “Me too,” he choked, the panic in his stare cut harder than his words. “I love you too.”

Grief pummelled through me, freezing me in place. I didn’t need him to say it. I always knew.

Even if I never saw Lacey again, I knew her love wouldn't change, even if she forgot who I was. And here, with Caleb, it could be the same. Even if we never met again, he knew what he meant to me.

I wish he hadn't replied. It made it more difficult to leave him.

I slipped on scowl as I pulled away, his hand dropping to his stomach. I straightened, twisting one-eighty to rise and face Agent Henderson as I swallowed down anything that could give me away. I nodded to the EMTs as I stepped back, forcing myself to walk ten paces before I turned to watch them surge forward, pushing the rattling bed up to the car.

I stood there, my overloaded body and mind trying to catch up. The black paint of my car picked up the shine of flashing red lights as they carefully removed Caleb. He was still awake, groaning, swearing with his last breaths, exactly how I imagined he would at the end. Caleb would never go down without a fight.

“Agent Knightly,” Henderson said again. Standing beside me, he was at least a head taller than me and twice as thin. The same age as me, he liked his long coats, even in the thick humid air, and his brown beard and long hair probably didn't do anything to help either. I could tell he was about to speak. To congratulate me or ask me to report or something else I couldn’t stand to hear right now. I stopped him before he had the chance.

“Sam Donelli is dead and his son is here for questioning,” I stated, my voice cold. “Is the mission complete?” I asked, not turning my head. I wouldn’t take my eyes off of Caleb until the ambulance faded into the desert.

“Yes.” Henderson nodded. “We need you back at base for clearance.”

“I'll write separate reports on the incident within the week,” I replied. “Agent Jones and Agent Chalmer's families have to be informed of their loss.”

“Very well. But that doesn't mean you can escape a debriefing.”

“And then the operation will be closed?” I asked again, thrusting my hands in my pockets to hide my shakes.

The deal was that I completed the operation and I would be freed from service with a considerable benefit package. It didn't mean the Donellis would stop. I had only killed the immediate family. There were still allies who could regroup. I never had plans to deal with them. Returning to my daughter could be an option, but I’d have to take her and run.

The killings, the revenge, taking out the Donellis one by one. None of it mattered anymore, not when Sam was dead. That was the final goal, that was the measure of success in the Bureau’s eyes.

They believed, with Sam dead, that the Donelli empire would crumble, but there was too much money at stake for them to end completely. Someone would step in to take over.

I watched as they wheeled Caleb’s gurney towards the ambulance, another EMT emerging to help pull the gurney up into the ambulance.

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