Page 8 of The Awakening

Without turning around to face him, I respond, “Sure appears more than a comforting embrace, mate.” I growl as my eyes remain locked on them. Everett’s hand releases me as he steps up beside me, the both of us looking on at our girl in the arms of another man. “He should know not to touch what isn’t his.” My skin is on fire, jealousy coursing through every inch, every pore of my being.

“If you go in there like that, what are you teaching her about emotional control?” Everett says as he stands in front of me, blocking my line of sight. He’s right. What would I be teaching her? That I, myself, am a hothead and react before thinking. Fuck.

“Thank you, Arno. Will you give us a moment with our girl, please?” Everett says out loud, not turning away from me as he gives me a stern look. Glancing over his shoulder, I see Sloan pulling away from Arno’s embrace, quickly wiping away her tears before either of us can notice. She shouldn’t be embarrassed to cry in front of us. Why is she so comfortable with Arno? Something in my gut doesn’t feel right about this friendship. Call me jealous, call me whatever you want, but my gut is rarely wrong.

Arno nods his head once to Everett, but turns back to Sloan once more.

“Are you okay, little one?” he asks her, and she immediately nods her head and gives him a small smile. My chest is heaving now, anger boiling in my chest. Arno turns on his heels and makes his way towards the both of us, still standing in the doorway. He tilts his head to Everett, and as he walks past him, he slaps a hand on my shoulder, giving it a small squeeze before heading down the hallway behind me.

I turn my head and glance at Arno as I watch his frame disappear around the corner at the end of the hall. I debate following him and telling him exactly how I feel about his little therapy session with my girl, but decide against it. I hear Everett and Sloan talking quietly behind me. Turning to join them, I see Sloan has wrapped her arms around Everett’s waist, resting her head on his chest as she speaks.

“I’m so sorry, Everett, I shouldn’t have reacted that way. You’re just doing what I asked. This is a part of training, and I should’ve known this part would be hard. You warned me, and I didn’t listen. I’m so sorry,” she pleads into his chest, his hand resting on her head as the other wraps around her back, holding her tight.

“Don’t apologize. This is always the most difficult part for everyone. It’s not easy reliving the past, especially one so traumatic.” Everett’s tone is soft and comforting. I can see her shoulders relax into him as the tension slowly eases from her small frame. I stand there a moment longer, watching her and him, their bodies fusing together as one. Watching her now, I can’t remember why I was mad a moment ago. Her love and loyalty to him is evident, an embrace entirely different from the one she shared with Arno. She melts into Everett’s arms, allowing his words to fill her until her tears no longer fall down her beautiful face. I go from guilt to jealousy to anger and back to guilt in a fraction of a second as my eyes remain trained on her.

In this moment, I realize that no matter how much we train our emotions, we will forever battle the silent war within ourselves to keep them at bay. Our feelings come and go depending on the scenarios we are placed in. We fight against our anger, rage, jealousy, guilt, sadness, and so much more. This fight is a daily occurrence—a daily battle—that we will forever find ourselves in. This is why emotional training is so prevalent in The Shadows’ training; this is the one constant of our lives that we will never master. Rather, we continue to work on it for the rest of our existence. She will forever battle her own war within, and it’s up to us to support and be here for her, especially when she seems to be on the losing side of the war. Both of us will be here.

Always and forever.

September 12, 2021

The three of us have decided on the date. The snatch-and-grab job will take place in four days’ time. We’ve been given a date on which the package needs to be delivered, thus giving us four days to prep. We have yet to be given the location of the drop, which is confusing to say the least. Typically, by this point, we are given every detail needed to be successful. Everett told both Dean and I that he thinks something is of. Something doesn’t feel right about this one, and I can’t agree with him more. Preparation is key with this one, and we just don’t know; and not knowing is dangerous.

After pouring my heart out to Everett and Dean, I couldn’t stop apologizing for how I acted after my first training with the virtual reality simulation. I was a bitch and had no right to treat them that way. Arno quickly brought me back to reality. His sternness with me was exactly what I needed. I’m used to being coddled by my guys, that sometimes I turn into this prissy, self-righteous princess that needs a good kick in the ass. Enter the room, Arno. I’m thankful for his firm hand with me—this is something Everett and Dean will never do. Their love for me overpowers all else—which is not a bad thing, and in no way am I complaining—it’s just they will never be the disciplinary teachers that I need sometimes. This role falls upon Arno, and I’m not sure he is mad about it either. He is the perfect big brother figure—hard, but gentle.

I woke up early this morning, my nerves getting the best of me for what training is to come today. Day two of emotional training and my mind is racing with what past event is going to be the key focus today. It’s four thirty in the morning, and I’m on my second cup of coffee already. Sitting at the island alone, I sip my coffee, staring into my mug as I relive my childhood in my head over and over again.

Will it be the time my father used my body as his personal ashtray? Will it be one of the times my father’s friends came to my room for their turn with me? Maybe it will be the time I ran away from home, just to be brought back by the cops. My father beat me so badly, that I passed out after the cops left. I didn’t realize I had started crying until a tear lands in my mug, causing the liquid to splash and form ripples. Fuck, stop crying, Sloan. You’re not there anymore, you’re free, no point in crying anymore.

Wiping my face clean, I take my coffee to the sliding glass door overlooking the pool outside. I peer to the crystal-blue water—the light illuminating the liquid from below, creating an ominous glow over the backyard. My eyes land on the edge of the pool where Colson and I had sex for the first time. I smile and close my eyes, remembering how he looked, how he felt against my skin—his touch on me. Goosebumps begin pricking my skin as I remember his soft caressing fingers all along my most sensitive spots. How his fingers trailed from my neck to my chest, my stomach, hips, and between my legs.

“I miss you so much, babe,” I whisper to myself, knowing I won’t get an answer. Opening my eyes again, I follow the ripples in the water, the wind blowing across the top layer. I rest my forehead against the cold glass, my eyes focused on the water until something catches my eye in the corner of the yard.

Near the wood line, I can see the faintest silhouette of a shadow, unmoving. I squint, trying to make out the form until it starts to move. Lifting my head from the glass, I watch as the form comes closer, coming to the light of the pool. It stops. It’s a man, I think. I should be screaming for the guys. This should be terrifying, but I’m perfectly calm. A feeling of peace washes over my entire body, making me feel insanely light.

I watch him.

Unmoving.

Eerily still.

He’s staring at me.

“Colson?” I ask, talking to myself and not expecting an answer. I watch the shadow, my skin itching for a response. When I’m about to open the sliding door, I hear him.

“Sweetheart.” The faintest whisper filling my ear. My eyes instantly fill with tears so large my vision starts to blur. A sob escapes my throat as I quickly try to wipe away the tears and clutch my coffee mug at the same time. I train my eyes on the Shadow, scared if I lose sight of him, he will disappear.

“Colson,” I say again between sobs. This is insane, this can’t be Colson, he’s gone. It can’t be real. I can sense his presence, though. The warmth that always came with him entering a room, the feeling of being weightless yet completely grounded by his love. A sensation of euphoric bliss that only Colson could ever create.

“Focus on me,” I hear a whisper, reaching from one ear to the other as if it soared through my ear canal with the wind. A breath of a whisper making my heart race at an impossible speed.

“What?” I ask. Although I know what he said, I want to hear him again. His voice never comes. I ask again, a beg, wanting to hear his voice over and over.

But it never comes.

I’m startled from the window as a pair of footsteps enter the kitchen, breaking my focus. I turn to see Dean with his arms raised above his head as he stretches through a deep yawn. He doesn’t see me as I stand in the darkness of the living room. Turning back to the window, he’s gone. The shadow is gone, and my chest feels empty again. Lowering my head, I take a deep breath as Dean suddenly realizes I’m here.

“Shit, baby girl, I didn’t see you there.” His voice is full of sleep as he makes his way over to me. I give him a small smile, setting my coffee mug on the coffee table and entering his outstretched arms as he wraps me in his cocoon.

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