Chapter Four

Sarah

"T he president wants to see you," Hendricks said before touching his earpiece and rumbling a response to someone over his comm line.

I groaned from my seat in the break room, where I'd remained since the incident. Nobody had told me I was confined, but my spot in the roster had been filled for the day, and Hendricks had told me not to go home.

Now, that.

"You're done for," Rickle said from where he sat two tables over. "That's big time. You aren't just getting fired. You're probably going to get tossed in prison, too."

"If that's the case, at least I can do the team one last favor and rid them of your piece-of-shit attitude, Tickles," I fired back hotly, the truth in his statement eating away at my usual restraint.

Rickle glowered at my use of his hated nickname.

"There's no way the president is firing me himself," I said. "Hendricks will do that later. Won't you, Hendricks?"

My team leader, who'd also remained in the breakroom—likely to watch over me as much as anything—grunted an affirmative. "If those are my orders."

"Thanks for going to bat for me," I muttered.

Hendricks didn't so much as move as he did stiffen. "Who's to say I didn't?" he replied quietly.

I paused, staring at him. Was he being serious? I hadn't expected that kind of support, not after Levi's bombshell announcement.

"Don't give me that stunned damsel look, Detfield. It doesn't suit you. You're a damn good agent. Better than that useless turd over there."

I grinned but didn't look back at Rickle.

"Thanks, boss," I said, letting more emotion color my words than I normally would with the mountain of meat that was my likely former team leader.

Hendricks grunted and stood. "Let's go. Walk you up."

He often dropped words when things got too "emotional." So, I just nodded and led the way toward the Situation Room, where I knew the president would be cloistered with all the brass. Cabinet members, senators, joint chiefs. It was a menagerie of important people, and I doubted the president would be the only one who tore a strip off my back.

"Not there," Hendricks said. "The office."

There was only one place that could be "the" office. My eyebrows went up. Why was the president waiting for me there? Was it so nobody else would bear witness to what happened next?

"They can't actually send me to prison, can they?" I asked quietly. "I did my job. It's not like I invited him or had any idea what he truly was. That's not a criminal charge."

Hendricks just shrugged. It was all the answer I would get. It said, I'm not a lawyer. Don't ask me dumb questions like that . So, I let it drop. There would be no prepping in advance for this meeting. I was going in blind, and I didn't like it. That wasn't how I was trained.

Alarm bells continued to ring as I was ushered into the Oval Office, where only the president awaited me. Hendricks stiffened at my side, noting the lack of other agents in the room.

"Agent Detfield, Sarah, please, have a seat."

Regardless of what I'd done, one didn't refuse an offer from the president. Confused, my hands clammy and my stomach roiling, I sat on one of the couches while he sat on the other. What was with the light-handed approach? I didn't need to be coddled. Just fire me and get it over with!

I opened my mouth to say something to that effect, but he beat me to it.

"I'm sure you're a little confused about why I wanted to meet with you."

"Not really," I said.

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips for a moment. "I suspect the reason will surprise you."

I doubted it. Still, I wasn't going to correct him.

"Tell me about it."

I nodded. "Today, a male from my past—"

The slow shaking of his head stopped me short.

"I know what happened today," he said gently, waving a hand as if it somehow didn't matter. "Tell me the full story. What happened. Who was he. You knew him. Knew this dragon."

"Ahhh," I said, stalling for time. "I can assure you, Mr. President, I had no knowledge beforehand that Levi, this man, was a dragon. That caught me by surprise as it did everyone else. I swear it."

"I believe you," he said gently. "But you had history with him."

I nodded. "Yes. I did. Almost six years ago, we had, um, a thing." I sighed. "You know how it goes."

That was as close as I was going to get to flat out telling the President of the United States that I'd been Levi's little fuck-toy. His personal slut, ready to take his cock any time, any place, any way that he ordered me to. My body had been his playground, and he'd made full use of it. Of me. And I'd loved every second of it.

My cheeks burned, but I was a professional, and I kept my composure. Mostly.

"I understand. Go on."

"Then, one day, he disappeared. That was five and half, six years ago. I haven't seen or heard from him since that day. Until he walked into the White House this morning with one of the tour groups."

"Is that all?"

The simple question was innocuous enough on its own, but given who was asking it, a spike of panic zipped down my spine. There was no way he could know, could he? Sure, the timeframe might add up, but most men weren't wired to think that way automatically. Besides, I'd never said Levi was the only man.

"Yes." I said simply. "He ghosted me. I'm sorry, Mr. President, I wish I could tell you more. Though I am curious about why you care, if I may be so bold?"

"Because, Agent Detfield," the president said, sitting back in his couch, "you were named as part of the peace terms."

"I was? What do you mean?"

"Would I be correct in saying the rumor mill has already spread the terms around?" There was a half-pained laugh. Even in what should be the most secure environment in the world, leaks were bound to occur at blistering speed.

I shrugged. "Rumor is all, Mr. President."

"I'm sure," he said with a snort. "The rumor mill probably knows what I'll do before I do."

We shared a smile, but his faded quickly. My stomach turned itself into ever tighter knots.

"You should know, Agent Detfield, that you were named as one of the women to be sent to the dragons. You, and only you, were mentioned by name. The others will be volunteers."

If I hadn't been sitting, my knees would have probably gone out from under me. " Me?" I squeaked unsteadily as the room spun around me.

I'd heard the rumors about how simple the terms were. Eight women as tribute. Harsh and antiquated, no doubt. But given how badly we'd been losing the war, finding eight women to volunteer seemed stunningly simple in comparison.

But I never expected I would be one of those women. I wouldn't volunteer. I couldn't.

"Mr. President," I said, fighting down nausea. "I can't go. I can't. I …"

The politician in front of me dissolved until he was just a person. A family man himself. "I know," he said softly. "I know about your son. About what this would do."

"It would destroy my family!" I protested. "Jakub. My son."

"Yes," he said softly, empathetically, reaching out to show me he understood. But only for a second. Then the politician was back. "It would destroy your family. I know. Which is why I'll never force you. The Office of the President might, but I, as a person , will not. Can not. You must choose to do this yourself, Agent Detfield."

"My son …"

"I know. It's a sacrifice of unimaginable proportions," he said. "One you should not have to make. But I ask you to think of the ones you would be saving. The millions stuck behind enemy lines who might now have a way out. The tens of thousands of soldiers who will live thanks to you. Whose families won't be destroyed because of this war."

I sank back into the couch as the weight of all that pressure descended on my shoulders. Me, Sarah Detfield. One single mother. All I had to do was give up my child, my life, and I could save the lives of others. Millions of them.

How could I say no to that? But I wanted to. I longed to. Every fiber in my body screamed at me to tell him to go to hell for asking me to make that kind of sacrifice.

But a second force rose to combat it. The force that had driven me from college to enlist in the Secret Service. The driving force that had pushed me to train harder than those around me, to force the agency to continue to promote me. That had put me within an inch of the president's personal detail not once but twice now.

Duty. A duty to those around me, to my country. A duty that had often superseded that other side of me. Forced me to push it aside, to sacrifice things I wanted, for the "bigger" things I believed in.

The faces of those I knew who had been lost in the war or trapped behind the lines when the dragons made a sudden push, overwhelming the military faster than anyone could fall back. There were too many of them.

And I could save those now in danger. All I had to do was give up the most important thing to me.

Jakub. Jake. My son . My beautiful four—almost five!—year-old baby boy.

I had to leave him. Abandon him.

It all hinged on me. Was I really so selfish I would ask the entire nation to continue suffering, to continue sending their sons and daughters to die, all so I could make no sacrifice at all?

Tears flooded my cheeks.

The president handed me a box of tissues.

I batted them aside, rising. "With all due respect, Mr. President, fuck you for asking this of me," I spat, taking my anger out on someone who, in a calmer moment, I would admit was also extremely upset. "I understand why you had to. But I still hate you for it."

"As do I," he said heavily. "As do I. I suspect I'll never sleep well again. Not that I expect you to give a damn about me. I know I wouldn't. I wish there was more I could do. If I could go in your place, I would. What I can do, however, is at least promise you that your son will never want for anything. The best schooling, the best medical care, whatever the nation can do, I will ensure it is given to him. It's not much, but I will do it."

I barely heard. "Mr. President?"

He drew himself up respectfully. "Yes, Agent Detfield?"

"I'm going home. To see my son."

Somehow, I waited for him to give me permission to leave.

Then I spun on my heel and walked out of the Oval Office. I ignored Hendricks and the other agents posted at the door. I ignored Sally, the president's secretary. I ignored everyone as I walked in a haze to my locker. I grabbed my things and left. For the last time.

I didn't say goodbye. I didn't even notice the other people around me.

All I had eyes for was the little brown-eyed, chubby-cheeked face waiting for me at home. A face that would never truly be able to comprehend why his mother wasn't going to be around anymore.

"Oh, god, " I sobbed behind the wheel, breaking down in the parking lot. "Why me?"