by ANDREA SMITH
Slash wasn’t fighting back any longer. He was out cold.
“Slate - he’s out,” I said loudly. “You need to stop and take care of your neck. You’re bleeding badly!”
He didn’t stop. He continued to pummel Slash with his fists, over and over again. Slash’s face was a bloody pulp. I was going to be sick.
“Eric!” I shrieked. “For the love of God, please stop. For me please. I love you. Please, stop!”
He froze and looked up at me slowly, his eyes meeting mine. I needed to see the sanity return to them. It hadn’t yet.
“Don’t you see, Eric, if you kill him, he’ll never have to face what he’s done? You’ll be giving him the easy way out.”
“He killed Laney. He was prepared to kill you. I can’t let him kill the people that I love.”
“But you saved me, baby,” I said, putting my hand out to him. “Now let me save you, okay? I need you and Landon needs you.”
He took my hand and stood up, stepping over the motionless body of Slash, pulling me to him. Blood was still trickling from the gash. I needed to get something clean wrapped around it.
“Don’t move,” I instructed him.
I ran over to where they’d pulled my car into the barn and popped the trunk open. My wardrobe bag with my dancing outfits was still in the trunk. I pulled a clean spandex monokini with long sleeves from the plastic garment bag. I grabbed the flashlight from the wooden bench and headed back over to Slate.
“Hold this,” I instructed handing him the flashlight so that the beam illuminated his face and neck. I wrapped the clean spandex material around his neck, securing it by tying the sleeves together.
“There,” I said, relieved that the bleeding had stopped. “You’re going to need some stitches. You’re lucky that didn’t hit a quarter of an inch over.”
“Sammie,” he said quietly, “who the hell’s Landon?”
I patted my rounded belly. “Your son, silly.”
He shook his head, pulling me close so that he could kiss me.
“I love you, Samantha.”
“I love you, Eric.”
Our lips met in a tender kiss just as Taz barged through the barn door, his weapon drawn. The multi-colored lights of multiple law enforcement vehicles were flashing on the horizon.
“He needs to get to the hospital now, Taz.”
“Got it,” he said, motioning for the others to come in.
chapter 58
It was September 3rd, Slate’s birthday.
I’d invited my parents over for dinner. It was about time they met the soon-to-be father of my baby. Lindsey was coming, too. She was bringing Adam. I’d asked her to arrive prior to my parents. I needed to let her know what was going on. She was heading back to Cornell the day after tomorrow.
Slate was healing up. His neck had been stitched up and the doctor agreed that he’d been lucky. Katy was coming for dinner, too. I was nervous making the preparations for this ‘family’ get together that wasn’t really a family yet.
All of the arrest warrants had now been served. Everyone that needed to be arrested had been, with the exception of Jack and Susan. Slate said it was just a matter of time for them.
I’d put my house on the market. I didn’t need to be rambling around in this huge house and worrying about upkeep. My life had changed and I truly felt it had changed for the good. I’d no need for ‘trappings.’ The equity would finish paying for Lindsey’s college tuition.
I’d learned some extremely important life lessons this past year. I’d learned about love, about trust, and about taking control of one’s own life. I wasn’t sure how things would end up with Slate and me. What I was sure of was that I loved him and that he loved me. For now, that was enough.
I knew that we would welcome this baby boy together. I just needed to know that Lindsey would be okay with that.
I was on the phone with Becky, explaining what had happened after the incident in that barn less than two weeks ago. I’d come as close to death then as Slate had. I truly believed that Slash would’ve killed me. I didn’t even know, at the time, that Slate suspected him of killing his younger sister, Laney.
Slate told me that when Slash told him on the phone that he’d ‘slit’ my throat, he knew with all certainty that he was Laney’s murderer. He said that was Slash’s signature preference when killing.
Becky listened quietly as I revealed everything that had been discovered when they made the bust in Fort Wayne when Darrell had shown up at the storage unit. Come to find out, the ‘goods’ that Jack had sold them happened to be a shitload of teddy bears for the launching of the ‘Toys for Tots’ run in November.
OMC, along with Ohio Iron bikers, were meeting in Fort Wayne to start the run that would have taken these stuffed bears, along with legitimate toys to Charlotte, North Carolina. Slate said that the stuffed bears had been torn open. A sealed container holding a kilo each of cocaine had been discovered. There were a total of thirty kilos.
“How did that benefit Jack?” Becky asked.
“Well, Slate explained that Jack had been the connection for the cocaine. He’d negotiated a fairly good price from his connection in Chicago: around $12,000 per kilo. Jack had purchased twenty kilos. He then commissioned the chemists at Banion to cut it with some sort of baking soda and magnesium/silicon mixture. After that, the twenty kilos became thirty kilos.”
“Oh my God,” Becky replied. “He pulled a ‘bait and switch’ on the bikers?”
“Apparently so, he figured they’d never find out because they were moving it to the Charlotte area where a kilo of cocaine sells for around $27,000. So Jack invested $240,000 for twenty kilos, and then he sold thirty kilos to the OMC for a total of $441,000. He netted a $200,000 profit; no one was any the wiser.”
“So, that means that Jack and Susan fled the country with about a million dollars in total?”
“At least,” I said. “Slate says they were pretty good at laundering the money, so it could be more. He says, eventually, they’ll surface. It could be years, though.”
“Wow,” she sighed. “How’s Lindsey with all of this?”
“She’s come to terms with the harsh reality of the man her father is, I guess. Her relationship with Adam couldn’t have come at a better time. Did I tell you she received a letter from Jack?”
“No shit?”
“He must’ve paid someone to mail it from El Paso a couple of weeks after he crossed the border. It was brief and to the point: he told her he was sorry; that he loved her and always would, and to make better choices than he did.”
“Oh, wow. Small consolation for the pain and misery he’s caused everyone,” she replied. “So, what now?”
“I’m having my family meet Slate this evening. I’m going to let Lindsey know about us. I really think she’ll be okay with it.”
“Well good luck with that. Call me tomorrow and let me know, okay?”
“I sure will.”
I was in the kitchen, marinating the chicken breasts when Slate got home. He came over and gave me a warm kiss, hugging me as he always did when he got home.
“Sammie, we need to talk,” he said.
That’s never a good thing to hear from someone you love.
He took my hand and led me to the living room, pulling me down on the couch next to him.
“My job here in Indianapolis is over. I’ve got to wrap things up and report back to D.C. next week.”
My heart thudded. I’d known this day would come eventually, but I still wasn’t prepared for it.
“What does that mean for us?” I asked softly.
“I guess that depends on you. I love you. I want to marry you. I want you with me in D.C.”
“You know that I love you, Slate.”
“Call me Eric, please? When we’re having talks of this nature, it just helps if you call me Eric.”
I smiled at him. “I love you Eric, but there are some major
obstacles with all of this. You have to know that.”
“Like what?”
“Like our age difference, for instance. You may think you want this right now, but marrying a cougar might not be so appealing a few years from now.”
He broke into a wide grin, his dimple appearing.
“Sammie,” he said, “my age was part of my cover for this investigation, just like my ‘biker’ persona. I’m not turning twenty-seven today.”
“You’re not?”
He shook his head, grinning like a fool.
“You mean I’m not a cougar?”
He laughed his beautiful, sexy laugh and pulled me to him, kissing my face.
“Technically, I think you’re a puma,” he said. “I turned thirty-two today. So, you see? You’re just a smidgeon over four years older. No biggie, right?”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
“I meant to, babe. I’m sorry. Forgive me?”
“I suppose,” I replied. “But there are other issues besides that.”
“What else?”
“What you do for a living. I’ve seen first-hand how dangerous it is. I don’t know if I could handle always being worried about you, or the things you have to do as part of your cover.”
“Like what?”
“You know what I’m talking about,” I said, my cheeks turning rosy.
“You mean the thing with Garnet?”
“Yes.”
“Well babe, it’s not like that’s in my job description you know? I basically let that happen because I was pissed off at you.”
“Oh really? I thought it was a way to get inside info?”
“There are other ways. I wouldn’t do anything to lose your trust,” he stated. “As far as being in a dangerous line of work - it comes with the job, at times. I can’t promise you that I’ll never be in danger again. It’s what I do, Sammie.”
I knew that I loved Eric no matter what. I loved him for everything that he was. I wouldn’t change a thing about him.
“What would I do in D.C?” I asked.
“Be my wife and my son’s mother,” he said with a grin.
“What if I want to be more than that? I mean, that’s what I was to Jack, and you can see how well that worked out.”
“Babe, if you want a career, you’re free to have one with the obvious exception: no dancing.”
“I can handle that restriction,” I said, “as long as I can still dance privately for you.”
“That’s a must,” he said softly, leaning in and covering my lips with his, kissing me gently.
“I’m not even divorced yet,” I said, pulling away. “How do I go about doing that when I don’t know where to find Jack?”
“I already checked into it. You can file for a divorce on the grounds of desertion and abandonment. Notices of the filing have to appear in the hometown paper four times within a period of a year. If Jack files no answer or counterclaim to the suit, your divorce is granted at the end of the one year period.”
“I guess we’re going to have an appropriate engagement period then, Eric.”
“Then you will come with me?” he asked, his eyes warm with love and happiness.
“I always do,” I replied softly, circling my arms around him and pulling him to me for a kiss.
epilogue
Falls Church, Virginia
November 5th (The following year)
I was putting the finishing touches on my make-up. Lindsey was fussing with my hair. She was trying to weave the tiny white flower and beaded garland through the hair piled up on top of my head.
“You’re a beautiful bride, Mom. I’m so happy for you.”
“I’m so lucky to have you, Eric and Bryce,” I replied, smiling at her reflection in the mirror.
I thought back to a little more than a year ago on Eric’s birthday when we had sat Lindsey down and filled her in on everything. She’d been fine with it. She understood that we would be married soon after the divorce was final.
She had looked at Eric and me; our happiness was evident.
“There’s just one thing,” she retorted. “Don’t expect me to call you ‘Daddy, got it?”
Eric and I’d looked at her glimpsing the slow grin that graced her face. She was more than okay with it.
Lindsey had switched schools so that she could be closer to us. She was now attending University of Virginia in Charlottesville. It was about two hours away.
Her relationship with Adam, unfortunately, had fizzled. She didn’t share the details with us, but she was adamant she was cursed. I knew it was simply a matter of time. Look how long it had taken me to find love. She was going to be taking a position with Banion Pharmaceuticals after graduation. For now, she remained focused on finishing up with her degree and starting a career.
My home had recently sold, along with Jack’s car, providing a sufficient nest egg for Lindsey’s tuition, along with a nice down payment on a house for Eric and me in Falls Church. We had agreed his bachelor pad wasn’t an appropriate place to raise our baby.
Bryce Eric Slater had been born on December 2nd of last year in Falls Church, Virginia. Eric had been right there with me during his birth, which had gone well. He’d been a week early, but weighed 7 lbs. Eric said he was destined to be a football player. He also said he wanted one more baby, insisting it be a girl next time. I’d told him I would do my best.
There had been no further word about Jack or Susan. The warrants were still out for them. Everyone else that had been involved in the criminal activities now spent their days and nights behind bars in various prisons. Most of them wouldn’t see life on the outside for many, many years, if at all.
Becky came bustling into the dressing room in the church basement with the bouquets for Lindsey and me. She’d arranged them herself in radiant fall colors. They were gorgeous.
“You both look ravishing,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve got to get back upstairs. Your mother and your soon-to-be mother in-law are about ready to come to blows over whose turn it is to hold Bryce. Eric has assigned me to referee. Here’s something borrowed for you Sammie,” she said, pressing a small velvet box into my hand.
I opened it. It was a beautiful diamond pendant…very delicately encrusted in a gold, filigree setting.
“Oh, Becky,” I breathed, “It’s exquisite.”
“It was my grandmother’s,” she said, fastening it around my neck. “I wore it when I married George, and look how well that has turned out. I wish the same for you and Eric.”
She leaned over, kissing my cheek. Her eyes had tears in them.
“Don’t start crying, Bec. If you do, I will, and then my make-up will have to be totally re-done,” I said, waving my hand in front of my face to dry any tears that were trying to surface.
“I love you like a sister, Sam.”
“I love you too, Becky. Make my mother share, okay?”
She gave me a wink and quickly departed. I fingered the beautiful pendant gently.
“Are you ready, Mom?” Lindsey asked, handing me my bouquet.
“I am,” I breathed happily.
The sound of organ music floated downstairs. It signaled it was time for Lindsey and me to make our way upstairs to the vestibule where we would wait for the wedding march to begin. Lindsey was my maid of honor. Taz was Eric’s best man.
Lindsey gathered up the train to my gown, throwing it over her arm until we got upstairs.
“Come on Mom, they’re playing your song.”
I stood at the front of the church facing Slate. I called him Eric now, because that’s what he wanted, but he was still ‘Slate’ in my heart.
He was the one who had taught me about love and passion. He was the one who fought against intimacy because he didn’t trust it. We had both learned to trust it just as we trusted one another. He was my lover, my protector, my very best friend.
I gazed up into those in
credibly blue eyes that were watching me with love and passion. Behind us, we could hear Bryce’s little voice getting fussy in his Grandma Katy’s arms. My parents were sitting next to her, helping her to entertain him as the ceremony was beginning.
Eric and I both glanced over at them and smiled as the baby quieted and the minister began the traditional recitation of vows. He took my hands in his and squeezed gently. I raised my eyes to his once again as he quietly whispered, “I love you, Diamond Girl.”
Bonus Chapter
Sammie
It was the second night of our honeymoon. I’d just finished showering; my damp body was tucked beneath the warm covers. I was reflecting on all that had brought me here.
To this day.
To this place in my life.
After all we’d been through over the past year plus, things were finally all good. Jack was out of my life for all intents and purposes; our divorce had gone through without a hitch. No one knew his whereabouts though he was a fugitive from justice, and my hopes were that his path never cross mine or Lindsey’s ever again.
I knew my daughter was struggling with the reality of all that had happened. But Lindsey was tough—much more resilient than me, so I had faith that eventually she’d come to terms with it.
And then there was Bryce; Eric’s son, my baby boy and I felt so blessed. Slate had taken to fatherhood without hesitation. He had told me more than once that our son would never be subjected to the type of father that he’d had growing up. He had shared a lot of it with me, and it was heart-breaking for me to hear.
Slate emerged from the bathroom of our luxury hotel in Denver. I had selected the location because I wanted to learn how to ski, and Erik was going to be my teacher. He was wearing nothing but a white towel slung loosely around his narrow hips. I marveled at how fit and handsome he was.
Yeah, he’s several years younger than me, but everyone says it doesn’t show; that we’re perfect for one another. It feels perfect to me.