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When the door finally opens, a timid smile plays across her face. I lift the comforter, gesturing for her to join me.
She complies. Her skin is cool, and she wraps around me, seeking warmth. I kiss the top of her head, and she presses her lips to my chest.
I’ve dated women before, been in the occasional relationship. But never before did it feel like this, this degree of comfort and happiness from a woman curled up beside me. The ease in my chest, the feeling of fullness is something I’ve never had before, but now that I have it, I never want to let it go. But I’ll have to, and soon.
As if she can read my mind, she peers up at me and says, “I’ve never had that.”
“Me neither.” Her hair is soft, even the matted sections.
“No, I mean, I’ve never had that kind of need. It took over me. A pulsing need to have you.” She lifts her head, and she shakes it a little. “I’ve never…”
“It’s good with us.” The words don’t do us justice. We’re good together, but I wonder how much experience she has.
“Before, I more or less forced myself to have sex. It was like a part of my recovery.”
“You forced yourself to have sex with me?” I pull back, needing to see her for this.
“No, not you. When I first had sex. It was that last step, if you will, to a full recovery. It wasn’t something I wanted. I didn’t pulse with need. Not like I do with you. I’ve wanted you. Every time. But that, right there…it was almost torture until you…” I settle back down into the mattress, and she lies with her ear pressed to me as I weave my fingers through her silken tangles. “I guess this is what attraction is like.”
It’s more than lust, but there’s no point in dissecting it.
“It was hard for me…you know…after.”
She’s talking about the abduction. About the rape. It’s the unsaid word that hung in the air around her for so long. It’s years later, and I still can’t seem to force it out. But I can hold her. Breathe her in. Care for her. Protect her.
Sophia’s grip around my waist tightens. I love this. I love her.
The thought comes out of nowhere, but deep in my soul I know it’s true. Lying here like this, the peacefulness surrounds us, and I know if I had the choice, she’d be it for me.
“It took me a long time,” she says, her voice soft and scratchy. I press my lips to her soft temple and her pulse reverberates through me. And understanding dawns too.
“Is that why you went to him tonight?”
She draws lazy lines against my chest.
“Sophia?”
“I went to him hoping to use some of the interrogation techniques I’d learned.”
“Waterboarding?”
“No, nothing like that. The exact opposite, actually. There was an instructor at Quantico who talked about successful interrogation relying on understanding the person. Understanding what drives them. I thought I might talk about my mom and maybe guilt him into sharing with me more about the people he was involved with.”
“You think there are more?”
“Has to be. He was the contact for one gun manufacturer, but it’s larger than that.”
“Senator Talbot?” The man will take donations from anyone, and it’s pretty obvious he sculpts legislation in return for those donations. But he’s smart. Arrow has illegally hacked his communications, and there’s never been anything there to lead to a prosecutable crime.
“Well, yeah, but it’s pretty common knowledge he’s a crook. But people don’t care. They vote along party lines. But no, I mean, who is Talbot working with? Who recruited my uncle? There’s a history there.”
“You sound like you’re searching for the wizard behind the curtain. The one pulling all the strings. But I don’t think it works like that. It ebbs and flows.”
“Oh, I know.” She lets out a sigh. “Did you ever hear about Oxi Alley and Florida?”
I search my memory. We go through information overload sometimes in the CIA. It’s one reason we rely so heavily on analysts. In my role, I’m focused more on cultivating information resources. But it’s still important to remain abreast. “Couple of pill mills, right?”
“The biggest source for opioids on the East Coast. And there were legitimate doctors involved. And why? Because they boosted what would have been around a $300K annual salary to $1.2 million. More than tripled their salaries. I’m sure they had all kinds of justifications for it, from paying off student loans to wanting a bigger house, but one third of their patients died, and they kept doing it. And that’s a relatively small amount of money. Someone out there is making a shit ton more than a million a year. I think the ringleaders of that enterprise made around forty or fifty million in two years. One operation in Florida.”
