Sam couldn't believe he was having this conversation. Not now, not in a hotel apartment with a fed-up-looking Herrison sitting across from him on the couch, and Skye waiting in the next room.

"Hand Jimmy over to you?" If Herrison didn't take it back, he was going to grab some expensive furniture and break it over his back.

"It's just a manner of speaking." Herrison rubbed the back on his head looking too out of control for Sam's liking. "Our facility in California will make sure he has the best treatment and we will develop something to combat this."

"Oh, like you did with William? Trap him there for two damn years, letting his family think he's dead?"

A shadow of annoyance passed over Herrison's face, and even if he was aware their coordinator was doing his best, Sam couldn't help but feel a little satisfaction. They didn't even give them twenty-four hours and the chance to figure out what the hell happened before springing this bullshit on them.

"I'll be blunter, then," Herrison said, his jaw tense and his tone clipped. "Jimmy needs treatment and no hospital will hold him except for psychiatric ones which will have absolutely no idea what to do with him. We may not have succeeded with William, but our treatment is more advanced than anything else out there."

The words stung, especially because Sam was aware Herrison was right. The current hospital was pushing to discharge Jimmy because, after many tests, except his brain being all screwed up, there was nothing physically wrong with him and they needed the space.

And as much as he didn't trust the Agency anymore, Herrison had a point about that, too. William did recover, and there was a chance their supposed treatment had something to so with it. He gritted his teeth together, fighting the revolt and the hatred inside him. He wanted to say no. To throw Herrison out and cut himself off from their incompetence, from their lack of care.

But that wasn't a solution. Not a smart one at least. He knew he'd go back on it, and that finally, after much kicking and screaming, they would all admit defeat and agree that committing him to a specialized facility was the best solution.

After all, William had been painful to work with until he showed signs of his former self. Sam couldn't bare seeing Jimmy like that. Not Jimmy who was so smart, and calm, and resourceful, always a survivor.

No matter how much he wanted to deny Herrison this, in the end, they'd all agree that anything giving him a better chance at recovery was the best alternative. So he said the only thing that made sense.

"It's Jessie's call."

Herrison lifted his eyebrows. "Jessie's? Why?"

Sam held in a sigh which was both of exhaustion and frustration. How could Herrison not understand how important Jessie was to Jimmy, that she called the shots? He had even officially named her his medical proxy. "She has medical training and is the one who will most likely go with him and keep an eye on things. So it's her call."

Herrison didn't seem to like that, but he finally nodded. "Suit yourselves."

"I want to interrogate Hannigan."

"No, out of the question."

"Why the hell not?" The question came out more aggressive then he indented, but he was too exhausted to control his tone properly.

"Because this doesn't concern you. It's not your department, so you get no say. You should know that by now. So Sam, a word of advice. Stop being so difficult to work with."

Sam's fist slammed into the coffee table between them. "Difficult to work with? Seriously, Herrison? Your lying and half-truths have gotten us into more trouble than I care to count. You have traitors among your men. Because of your sloppiness, Jimmy almost died. I told you to check Hannigan before sending him into space with my brothers. Instead, you put him in charge."

"I didn't--"

He growled, so over this excuse. "I don't give a fuck anymore, Herrison. I know it's not you personally, but since the Agency won't face us themselves, it falls on you. Fucking own up to it for once!"

Herrison cringed at his words, probably shocked by his language, but Sam meant it. He was one idiot mistake away from full-on mutiny because he was beyond fed up with this.

"Guys." Skye came out of the bedroom and into the small living room of their suite, wearing a fluffy white robe. "You have to see this."

Herrison's eyes widened as he took her in, but he fortunately didn't say anything because it was all the reason Sam needed to punch his teeth in.

She picked up the remote control and turned on the TV. She flipped through a few channels before catching the news. The headline made Sam's stomach flip over.

"Nicholas Harkin has been arrested together with two members of Congress and a representative of the Pentagon. It appears they had been working together for months to bring yet-untested weapon prototypes to the underground market..."

"What is this?" Herrison asked.

"They've arrested Von Croooken," Skye said, as if it wasn't obvious. She grinned at Sam, glowing with pride.

Sam smiled back, content that something had finally happened, that their hard work had not been in vain.

"Why?" Herrison asked, dispelling their temporary happiness. 

"Because he kept doing bad shit and it was time he paid," Sam said.

"We don't bring the police into our matters." Herrison sounded like a prerecorded message again.

"You don't do anything." Sam took out his gun and nudged the handle toward Herrison. "You take the guns Snitch Gravel wants and use them for yourselves. Did you think we wouldn't catch on? Realize we're working for nothing?"

"Watch your mouth, Sam."

"You watch it." Sam stood, his fists balled at his sides, still holding the gun. "We're not mercenaries, Herrison. We joined you because we thought you were the good guys."

"We are--"

"Your methods don't show that," Skye said, joining Sam, her arms crossed over her chest. "And it was time someone took a stand."

Herrison's eyes narrowed. "Doctor Brandon, I'm afraid to say you are dismissed. Your conduct in handling this case has been highly unprofessional."

Sam took half a step forward before she put her hand on his chest to stop him.

"Fair enough, I agree. But I'm not sorry. And if you don't play nice, you're not invited to our wedding."

"Your what?" Herrison looked from her to Sam, his eyes bulging.

"She's not exaggerating to shock you. We are getting married," Sam said with a shrug while Skye showed him the ring on her finger with a grin.

Herrison shook his head. "You've all gone mad."

"Actually, we're better than ever." He wrapped his arm around Skye's shoulders and pulled her against him. "And you'd better let the Agency know that."

Herrison took another look at the TV which was still on the Von Crooken news, then sighed. "I always do. There could be consequences for this." 

"That goes both ways, Herrison. If they even dream of taking any measures against any of us, we're out. I mean it. And trust me, we'll know."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Not you personally, Herrison. I actually like you."

There seemed to be a battle raging inside Herrison as he gritted his teeth. Probably between the coordinator who cared about them and the Agency lapdog he'd been forced to become. Sam knew they depended on him, that he was the one with the power to present the events in a favorable light.

But at the moment, it didn't matter, because Sam had meant every word. What happened to Jimmy drew a clear line between good and evil, and at the moment, the Agency was hoovering right on it, barely balancing between one side and the other. All they had to do was wait for it to fall.

Herrison probably guessed that, but he had nothing to say. With another heavy sigh, he left the room.

♠️

Angie's hands shook as she tried to fold a t-shirt, but she couldn't handle even such an easy task. Her head spun as Sam's words echoed inside it on repeat, painting a vivid picture even over the phone. 

Jimmy had been nearly killed in outer space by a traitor and now was in the same condition William had been in while he'd been presumably dead. The silver lining was that William had recovered. But it had taken years.

Jessie had decided to commit him to the Agency's facility outside LA where she would join him to make sure everything was fine. They would fly him directly there from Huston, not passing through Chicago. It was better that way, Sam claimed. No need for a crying Maxi to face a son who didn't recognize her, no press scandal left in his wake. And no giving Tom the chance to see his brother before he'd be locked up.

Angie's eyes filled with tears. Life continued to kick, even if for a moment it seemed to loosen up. It never did, not really. Not for her and not for Tom who had missed everything just to make sure she was fine. 

That was why she had to go.

On the flight from Cairo to Chicago, she and Tom sat next to each other, their legs touching, her shoulder brushing against his. And when she'd succumbed to the weariness, she'd leaned against him and slept, let him hold her, protect her, kept watch for both of them.

Let him show her what she already knew. That he still loved her and wanted them to work out.

And yet, she couldn't stay.

Why exactly, she wasn't sure. Maybe because something felt off. The idea of getting back together with Tom was enticing. It was a horrid time for both of them, and she needed him as much as he needed her. And yet... Something had broken inside her, tearing down all her walls, all her strength, everything she tried so hard to bury in the depths of her subconscious.

The death of her family, the betrayal, the Agency and their hand in Jimmy's near death. Tom cheating on her, leaving her when she needed her most, tearing her apart.

Everything was just too much, and for once, she couldn't handle it. Couldn't be there for him fully. She couldn't even handle seeing Jimmy like that. She'd much rather remember him the way he used to be. Confident, calm, inventive, with a smile that could ease her fears.

Maybe she was being a coward, maybe it was wrong, but she couldn't do this. Didn't want to.

"Packing instead of unpacking?"

She jumped and dropped the t-shirt on the bed. Tom stood in the doorway, his shoulder pressed against the jamb, a bitter smile on his face that proved he knew exactly what she was doing. There was no point hiding it or trying to sugarcoat it. It never worked like that with him. Honesty did.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Tom, but I'm leaving."

"Where to?" 

His question unsettled her because she hadn't even thought about it. So she just shrugged and continued folding clothes and placing them inside her carry on.

"This is it? You're just giving up?" 

Her fingers tightened against the pair of leggings, anger bursting out through the sadness. "I'm not just giving up. Don't you think I've had enough?"

"We've all had enough, Angie."

She shook her head as if it would make his words go away and kept her gaze trained on the peace of clothing in her hands. "No. Not like me. There have been a lot of thoughts I've been trying to keep away, and I feel like I'm about to burst. About my parents, the Agency, you."

He pushed off the doorway and took a few steps inside the room. The pain on his face made her want to take the words back, hug him and just stay in his arms forever. Be the old Angie, the one who loved and supported him. The Angie who was happy. But it didn't work like that.

"I can get that." He stepped closer. "Things can seem too much, but I think... I think we can get through it together."

She shook her head, trying to stop looking at him. "I can't do this now. I can't figure out how I feel about you."

There was slight shock on his face before he clenched his fists and looked away. "True. You thought you had no choice until a few days ago."

"Exactly! That was easy. Now that I have to decide, everything is a lot more complicated."

He turned back to her, determination burning in his eyes. "I wanna be there for you this time, Angie. I want to help you figure it out, go through everything together. I need a break, too, so if we do this together..."

It sounded so tempting, but she shook her head. "I need space, to detach from everything. You can't go anywhere now, not with Jimmy the way he is."

Tom actually cringed. "Don't do this, Angie. I understand that you want to, that you need to, but I'm asking you to put it off. I'm asking because I need you, because I feel like I'll go crazy if you leave too."

"You should've thought about that before you dumped me and slept with someone else."

The words lingered between them, and she stared as hard as him because she couldn't believe she'd let them out. The cheap payback had pierced him like a poison arrow, painting his face in shades of sorrow. And somehow, it made her want to hurt him more, because that proved he still cared.

"This is why I can't stay," she whispered.

"I deserved that." He strode to her and grabbed her shoulders. "Just like a deserve every other cheap shot you have in your arsenal. I know it won't go away. There are always consequences. But I'll take them."

"I don't want you to take them." She tried to shrug him off, but his grip only tightened.

"And why's that, Angie? Why wouldn't you want to hurt me?"

The problem was that she did, and it was wrong. Wrong because as angry and as hurt as she'd been, once the entire truth was out, she could see that they were both to blame. But that didn't mean she wanted to think about it, so she just shook her head and looked away from him.

"I won't give up that easily, not this time," he said, the passion in his voice making her face him again. The intensity in his gaze had her knees weakening. "And you know why? Because my life with you means everything, and I'll be damned if I don't give it my all. I'm sure we can make it something good." 

Somewhere deep down inside, his words were honey, spreading through her and taking away the pain. But at the moment, she resented them, the easiness with which he was accepting his faults, turning her into the bad guy for wanting to leave.

"It's a bit late for that," she mumbled.

"It's never too late." He dropped to his knees and hugged her. "Let's start over. And I swear I'll do it right this time around."

Her eyes widened as she took him in. He meant it, she could tell easily. And she didn't think there would ever be another man to look at her like that, with so much confidence and love. With so much passion. She couldn't see him on his knees. Not in front of her.

"No, what are you doing, get up." She made a feeble attempt to take his hand and pull him up, but ended up kneeling next to him. Tears filled her eyes at her weakness, at her need to touch him, kiss him, hold him. "You were right, we're toxic."

"Don't you think I've figured that out?" He let out a short laugh, wiping her tears with his thumbs. "This love is killing me, but you're still the only one. I can't even imagine what it would be like to love someone else."

"No. I can't... We..." But the more she looked at him, the words died, because he was everything.

The way he looked at her, the way his skin felt against hers... She'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be alive until he touched her and set her on fire. So she was the one who leaned in closer and was not disappointed. Before her lips could touch his, Tom wrapped his arms around her a kissed her, putting so much into it, it took her breathe away.

She didn't need it. Breathing was normal, it made her brain function properly. She didn't want that. She just wanted to feel, to kiss him one more time, to touch him again. Her fingers ran through his hair, then down his back and under his t-shirt.

His kisses trailed away from her mouth, on her jawline, down her neck, his hold on her loosening as his hands explored all the places he knew she loved to be touched. And even if something inside her screamed that they should stop, she shut it out. She didn't care. All she wanted was to feel him again, pretend that they were okay, that nothing had changed.

"Angie," he whispered, pulling away an inch.

She wanted none of that. She cam closer, climbing into his lap kissing him like it was the last time. He gave up all forms of protest and wrapped his arms around her. In a moment, he was on his feet with her curled up around him. 

The suitcase flew off the bed as they took its place, kissing and touching like they hadn't in months. Years. Forever. As if they wanted to give each other something to remember.

He took his time, lingered on every inch of her like he wanted to get reacquainted with her skin. And she wanted nothing else than to enjoy the feel of his lips, of his skin. Each touch was like a small spark, building up into a giant bonfire. When he pulled the shirt over her head, she breathed in relief and took his off, kissing every inch of available skin.

They twisted and turned in a well-practiced dance until there was nothing left between them, until her brain was so foggy, all she could think about was wanting more, wanting him to be rougher, faster, stop teasing her, shake her world.

Wanting him to love her, because she wanted nothing but to love him, fall apart around him, fall asleep in his arms. After all the buildup, she came down with a scream between rumpled sheets, her breathing labored and uneven.

But dreams didn't last forever. Soon, she found herself staring at the all-too-familiar wall with a heavy heart. Tom had fallen asleep after she'd pretended to do the same, one arm draped around her, his face buried in her hair. In normal circumstances, she would've cuddled against him and closed her eyes, a satisfied smile on his face.

Now she couldn't. It was different, everything was. Tears filled her eyes as she sneaked out from under his arm and sat up on the edge of the bed. He let out a soft groan, but otherwise didn't move. Watching him broke her heart, because she knew she'd given him hope.

If she were in his shoes, she'd be ecstatic after what just happened, enjoying the major afterglow, feeling safe, happy, filled with hope and ready to take on the world. Unaware the the other was planning to turn his back and leave her like that. 

There was no hope, no way back for them. At least not now.

As quietly as possible, she pulled her clothes on and retrieved her suitcase. She glanced at him every few seconds, wanting to make sure that her packing didn't wake him up. If he opened his eyes, if he smiled and pulled her back into bed with him, she didn't think she could still leave. Pretend that anything about them was wrong.

You're doing this for his own good, as well as yours.

Yet, the words rang false. He'd mentioned that he didn't want to bury anything under a rug, that he wanted them to come out of this stronger, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of their mistakes, of their suffering.

It had shown in the way he moved, in the way he lingered on every part of her, pushing all her buttons, focusing on her alone. He'd always been the fast and furious type rather than the long-haul type, and now that she'd had it both ways, she realized she liked him just the way he used to be.

You're not thinking about that. Not like it's going to happen again.

Because she had to go and clear her head, her heart, figure herself out. See if there was any future for them. If she could get over the fact that he'd slept with someone else. It was an issue, and it didn't just go away.

She needed to, though. Go away and give herself a break. Give him one.

Everything was just too complicated right then.

So as silently as possible, she rolled her luggage out of the apartment and out of his life.

♠️♠️♠️

Aaaaand... here comes the last chapter. With it's serious part 1 and all the things changing and happening.

As seen in the first part, trust in the Agency is at an all time low, but there is no better alternative than to hand Jimmy over to them. At least for now.

And Angie just rage quit and walked out. Anyone actually surprised about that? Though the way she left wasn't exactly fair.

Oh well. Stay tuned for the final part of this book on Monday. I still have stuff to prepare for the upcoming books.

Don't forget to vote and comment with your thoughts on the story.