Too Late

Luke is a handsome, intelligent, and brave 25-year-old undercover agent. He is Sloan’s love interest, as well as her best hope of getting away from Asa. Luke is also a foil for Asa, as Sloan acknowledges when she thinks, “Damn him for being everything I was Asa was, and everything I wish I could have” (59).

In terms of his profession, he says, “Undercover work wasn’t really what I joined the force for, but it’s what I’m good at” (33). He is competent in certain areas, but this description clashes humorously with his later remark that he may be “the worst undercover detective that ever existed” (167). Given that Luke describes himself as an introvert, undercover work presents an added challenge: “I am definitely an introvert, because people drain me. And now I need silence to refuel” (96).

Luke is skilled at his job, but he is well aware that he’s unable to keep his emotions in check. Impulsivity and protectiveness, particularly when combined with a temper, are not an ideal mix for an undercover agent. His feelings for Sloan are particularly hard to compartmentalize. The longer he is with her, the more difficult it is to play a role: “I’m trying to do the job I’m here to do, but at the same time Sloan is making me question whether this is really the life I want at all. I have no idea if I was Carter just now or if that was all Luke” (135). Despite his best efforts, he finds that being with Sloan blurs the boundaries between Luke and his alter ego, Carter.

Luke is good at putting people at ease. His early flirtations with Sloan are lighthearted and organic, but it is his visit to Stephen’s care facility that shows Sloan how special Luke is. Stephen is largely nonspeaking and only allows Sloan to touch him. However, Luke engages easily with Stephen to the point that Stephen touches him on the shoulder and communicates that he wants him to come back for another visit.

Luke’s protectiveness extends beyond Sloan. Later in the novel, Ryan tells Sloan that Luke once blew his cover to save a child’s life. In response, Sloan says that Luke’s compassion is the sexiest thing about him. His compassion is reinforced when he wholeheartedly accepts the baby as his own, even though Asa is most likely the father. Luke makes sacrifices for Sloan, but he doesn’t grow much as a character. He begins the novel as a kind, generous man and remains one throughout.

Asa is the novel’s villain. Interestingly, he is also the only character whose last name is provided. A foil to Luke, Asa is volatile, narcissistic, and violent. He is also a damaged, tragic person with substance use disorder. Sloan, Ryan, and even Luke know that Asa’s wretched upbringing created him, though this does not make his actions less reprehensible.

Asa lives a life of constant selfishness, pleasure seeking, and distraction. When he recalls the aftermath of an argument that led to his mother’s murder, he thinks, “I hated the quiet. I hate the quiet” (93). Asa’s childhood was characterized by a lack of control. As an adult, he knows that if he can assert control initially, Sloan and the other people he uses are less likely to be able to leave once he reveals his true nature.

Asa only keeps people around if they benefit him. In fact, he goes so far as to compare people to drugs. Like drugs, people are substances that provide pleasure.

No one ever loved Asa when he was a child, and he has spent the rest of his life punishing people for that fact. When he fondly remembers his strategy for seducing Sloan, it reveals a grotesque and callous indifference to anyone else’s feelings:

You hold a fucking door open for a girl, she automatically thinks you’re a gentleman. She thinks you’re the type of guy who would treat his mother like a queen. Girls see guys with manners and think there’s no way they could be dangerous. I held every fucking door open for Sloan that I could find (111).

This strategy is at odds with his vulnerable statement that he would treat Sloan better if he knew how. He has no reason to know how because no one ever modeled considerate or loving behavior for him. He was reduced to stealing Brady’s lunch notes so that he could fantasize about what it would feel like to have a parent who cared enough to write an affectionate note to him.

Asa does not love Sloan because of who she is—at least, not entirely. His warped vision of love assumes a level of possessiveness and control. He loves Sloan because she doesn’t—and hasn’t—belonged to anyone else. In fact, he targets her for this reason. He is willing to go to ridiculous lengths to maintain control of her, including pretending that Stephen’s benefits were canceled and tampering with birth protection to make Sloan more dependent on him after she becomes pregnant.

Despite his danger and bravado, Asa is also insecure. When he sees his father at the casino, he finds him pathetic. After beating him, he frantically tries to reassure himself that he isn’t like him. The knowledge that his father has schizophrenia could make Asa question his own paranoia and behavior, but instead he uses it as proof that he is not like his father. Asa does not see his own thoughts and actions as reflections of his genetic makeup because he does not see them at all.

Asa also uses Sloan to prove his father—who taught him that all women are the same—wrong. Ultimately, Asa experiences little to no growth. He dies without ever being told he is loved, outside of the times he coerces Sloan into saying it.