“So you grew up well before your time,” he observed. “You had to become a parent while you were still just a child yourself.”
Samantha shrugged lightly, though her eyes flashed with some dark, unnamed emotion. “I did what needed to be done, since my father wasn’t there to do it. But I remember deciding at a young age that I wouldn’t ever be beholden to anyone else for as long as I lived. I wouldn’t beg for anyone to love me or take care of me—not ever.”
So much about her clicked into place with those plainspoken, albeit lamentable statements. The mystery of her constant distance and adamant invulnerability became clearer to him with those ruthless fragments of truth. Jack saw that it pained her to tell him these things, because of the trust and exposure it required, but he also understood now the source of her iron will—her relentless fierceness. As a child, Samantha hadn’t felt safe. She’d been unable to trust the one person she should have been able to trust most of all. That was a terrible lesson to learn at such a tender age. She’d taught herself to grow cold. She’d had to in order to be strong for herself and her little brother.
“I’m sorry your father hurt you,” Jack told her with gravity. “I’m sorry that he wasn’t the man you and your brother needed him to be.”
“That’s life,” Samantha replied, looking away. He couldn’t be certain, but he thought he saw her swallow back her sadness. “I don’t complain about all the good things that happen to me. Why should I get to complain over the bad shit? I always hated the idea of being some kind of poor little rich girl anyway.”
“Still—you deserved better.”
Samantha grew quiet again, fingers toying absently with a loose thread on the quilt. Jack realized she was sifting through all her secrets, deciding what she would or couldn’t tell him. Just a few months ago he would have tried to break through her barriers. He would have forced himself through the secret passageways and painstakingly-built walls. But now, he was just grateful she was opening up to him, however carefully, unfurling slowly like a tight bud. Perhaps this was the best victory he could have ever realized—the hard-won trust of a woman who was relearning how to give it.
“I didn’t let anyone near me again until Wes,” she confessed after a moment. “And he left me too when I needed him most.”
“I can see now why I might not look like a safe bet,” Jack acknowledged. “You’ve been let down by the men who were supposed to love you most.”
Regret crossed her face. “I slept with him, Jack.”
He felt like he’d fallen through a sudden vortex.
If Samantha had taken out a knife and slashed it across his chest, it couldn’t have hurt worse than that short statement. Jack sucked in a tight breath, fighting for control over his emotions as jealousy ripped through him.
“When?” he managed to get out, though his breathing felt harsh.
She met his eyes. “In Afghanistan.”
He wanted to ask her a hundred questions. He wanted to rail and fight. He wanted to drive his fist through something again and again, but he held still, fighting his instincts, the wicked flare of his temper. Even though his darker, masochistic side wanted to know everything, Jack had to wait to see what she was willing to share. And God help him, he couldn’t trust himself to speak. Not yet.
“I think I needed the closure, as selfish as that sounds,” Samantha continued when he said nothing. “I went into that mission thinking I was dead anyway, so I didn’t feel like I had anything else to lose. And Wes had always felt like an open wound. I don’t think I ever really healed,” she confessed quietly. “I don’t think I ever let him go.”
And you already thought you’d lost me then, Jack thought to himself. Christ, this shit hurt. He wanted to pull away from her, but he wouldn’t. He understood now that loving this woman meant taking it all. The good, the bad, and apparently, the goddamn excruciating. He couldn’t ask her to open herself up to him and expect it not to hurt. He had to accept everything she was willing to share, or risk losing her again.
Samantha was like a stained glass window, nuanced and lovely, different from every angle and infinitely beautiful. But attempt to take individual pieces from the sum of her parts, and those vivid shards would slice you to bits. To love this woman meant taking her exactly as she was, and that included every complicated, wrenching, beautiful, cutting piece. He was definitely a masochist. For this woman, he’d be whatever he needed to be.
“Do you still love him?” Jack asked in a low voice.
“He was my first love, Jack.” She pulled at a loose thread on the quilt. “There’s a bond there—a tether that never quite lets go, no matter how hard you try to cut it.”
God, that made sense. It was scalding because it was true. Even though a big part of him wanted to hunt Wesley Elliott down and beat the ever-loving shit out of that asshole for touching Samantha, he knew he’d never do it. One, he had no right. Two, well, he hadn’t behaved much better in her absence, heaven help him. It hurt like hell to do it, but Jack pushed back all the irrational, hypocritical jealousy that was rolling over him like a tsunami.
“I understand how you feel, tesoro.”
She looked doubtful. “How?”
Jack’s mouth twisted in an approximation of a smile. “Because you’re my first love too.”
“Jack…” she pressed her hand to his heart, eyes dark with sadness. “I’m sorry I keep hurting you.”
He took her hand and held it to his mouth, kissing her palm, her curled fingers. God, they’d really done a number on each other, hadn’t they? “I’m sorry I keep hurting you too.”
They lay there, quiet and still in the graveyard of her memories. Jack watched the sunlight play on her face as the tree branches shifted and swayed in the breeze.
“I hate that you were with Wes,” Jack admitted. “Just thinking about you two rips me apart—and it makes me want to find him and drop him,” he added darkly. “But the fact that you’re even telling me this is a big deal. You’re letting me in, tesoro.”
“Even though you don’t like it?”
Jack pushed the fall of her hair back over her shoulder, letting his fingers trail over those silky strands. “Especially because I don’t like it. If you trust me, then you might love me again.”
“I never stopped loving you, Jack.” Samantha shook her head. “I just don’t think it’s right, dragging you into my world. You didn’t sign up for this.”
“You’re right. I signed up for out-of-this-world sex with a woman who could give James Bond a run for his money,” he teased, attempting to make light despite the hurt. “I find I’m willing to break all my own rules just to be with you. So why don’t you let me be the arbiter of what’s right for me, tesoro? I’ll tell you when enough’s enough.”
She leaned back, considering him. “Your recent stint in rehab suggests that you have some issues with impulse control,” she observed. “I don’t think you’d know your hard limits if they smacked you in the face.”
“Losing you is a hard limit,” Jack replied honestly. “My penance in therapy is helping me work through some of that.” He toyed with the strands of her hair. “And don’t you find it just a little bit ironic that you’re trying to control my outcomes when you’re slapping my wrist for trying to control yours?”
She smirked. “I never said I was perfect.”
“No, you’re not perfect, tesoro,” Jack agreed. “But you may just be perfect for me.” He slid a hand around her waist and up her back, gently pulling her toward him. He found her mouth, kissing her gently, nibbling, finding all the sensitive crevices to a mouth he’d never tire of kissing.
“You’re a glutton for punishment, Jack,” she husked against his lips.
“Probably.” He ran his nose along the edge of her jawline.
“And I think you have a secret fondness for tragedy,” she added, her breath hitching when he tasted the hollow of her throat with the tip of his tongue.
“Well, I am Italian,” he whispered.
Samantha tried to draw back, but he wouldn’t let her, nipping at her earlobe in retaliation.
“Are you sure you don’t just love me because I’m damned?” she asked, breathless.
Jack glanced up at her. “Tesoro, if you’re damned, then I’m right there with you. I’d rather walk through the fire with you than dream about what could have been.” He kissed her again, pulling her close, two halves melded together, fitting perfectly like the skeleton keys to each other’s locks.
“Dreams,” Samantha mused, like she was recalling something.
“What about them?” Jack asked, running his fingertips over her cheekbone.
“I dreamt about you—about us—when I was in the hospital.”
Jack stroked her brow. “And what did you dream?”
“We were married,” she whispered, like she was telling him a secret. “We had a child. You called her passerotta.”
A warmth stole over him—a hopefulness mixed with a satisfaction, a rightness that made him feel incredible. “Little sparrow?” Jack imagined a little girl who looked just like her, with long dark hair and flashing eyes. God, he wanted that. So much. “That nickname is sort of perfect.”
She glanced up at him through her lashes. “Why is that?”
“Because sparrows symbolize undying love—a commitment,” he answered, squeezing her gently as he smiled at her. “You dreamt about our love story, tesoro.”
She closed her eyes, tucking her face against his chest. “I don’t believe in love stories anymore, Jack.”
“Then believe in me instead,” he whispered back.
The sudden thunder of horse hooves caught their attention.
“What the hell—?” Jack blinked, sitting up as Alejandro and a couple of guards galloped up the hill toward them. Alejandro dismounted smoothly as the guards stayed on their horses. He strode toward them while Jack helped Samantha up.
“What’s going on?” she asked immediately, brows furrowed.
“We have a situation,” Alejo’s eyes flicked toward Jack. “You need to come back to the house.”
“Is it the op?” Jack asked, “Is Roxanne alright?”
Samantha’s head swiveled toward him as her eyes widened in shock.
The hostility coming off of Alejandro in that moment could have set fire to the plain. “What do you know about Roxanne, pendejo?” he asked, his voice low as his eyes narrowed.
“Well, I know your sister isn’t dead for one.” Jack met his gaze. “I also know she saved my life in London, that she works for Samantha, and she’s looking for Lightner as we speak.”
Alejandro and Samantha exchanged meaningful looks.
“Jack, only a handful of people know she’s still alive. If anyone else found out, it would be disastrous for her,” Samantha said carefully.
“Jaime and I aren’t interested in outing her secret,” he assured her.
“Jesus Christ—your brother knows too?” Alejandra glared.
“He helped me figure it out,” Jack said with a nod. “The point is—we know more than you think. So why not let us help? We both have incredible resources and we want the same thing.”
“No one else can find out. Your father—”
“Doesn’t need to be involved unless you want him to be,” Jack interrupted. “You call the shots, Samantha. Just let us help run the plays.”
Alejandro made a frustrated sound. “I hate to admit it, Wyatt, but he’s right. Something happened in Tel Aviv. Lightner got away, but we have a lead, and we’ll need all the help we can get.”
She was quiet for long enough that Jack began to wonder if all the headway they’d made in the last couple days was for naught. If she didn’t let him in, if he kept beating down at her doors, they would just remain locked in this battle.
“Test my mettle, Samantha,” Jack told her frankly, meeting her eyes. “The only way you’ll ever know if I’ll stand beside you is if you give me the chance to do it.”
“If you do this, there’s no going back. If you’re in, you’re all the way in,” Samantha said after a long, tense silence. “You understand that, right?”
He heard the underlying question: Will you do anything for me? Even if you’re not certain?
Jack clasped her hand. “There was no going back from the moment we met, Samantha. Tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”
She released a breath, as if she’d been holding it, waiting for his answer. “Then we’d better find out what’s happening.”
*
April—Morning
Wyatt Ranch, Texas
S A M A N T H A
Over the phone in the library, she pinched the bridge of her nose as she listened to Roxanne’s debrief of what had happened during the exchange in Ashdod. Jack stood in front of her desk next to Alejandro. Carey was conferenced in from the Wyatt headquarters in Houston.
“We have a major fucking problem,” Rox said in no uncertain terms. “Lightner has his hands on a nuclear warhead, and he could literally be anywhere in the world within a matter of hours.”
“He’s not going to use it,” Sam responded, certain. “He’s a narcissistic psychopath, but he’s running out of money, and selling it is his best option.”
“Wyatt, he could try to detonate it in Chicago or Houston,” Alejandro argued. “He could take out Wyatt Towers or even one of Jack’s skyscrapers in the Loop with a single detonation.”
Jack crossed his arms, grim-faced.
“There’s no profit in that for him,” Sam replied calmly, thinking through Lightner’s next plays. “He’ll worry about his pride only after he’s got his money back, or if we push him so far into a corner, he’ll feel the need to strike back.”
“Sammy, are you sure that’s a risk you’re willing to take?” Carey said over the line, sounding worried.
“I’d bet the ranch on it,” she replied succinctly.
“Okay, so now for the semi-good news,” Rox continued. “Haug put a silicone tracker on each of the warheads and the isotope casks she built to store the warheads in, to prevent accidental radiation leakage.”
“Tell me you know where he is.”
“We’re working on it,” Rox answered. “But the site is encrypted beyond what Avi and I can do. We need a hacker or—”
“I know just the guy,” Jack chimed in as he spread his hands on the desk, meeting Sam’s eyes. She looked at him quizzically. Jaime, he mouthed, nodding.
Brilliant.
Sam gave him the thumbs up.
“Rox, I’m going to have my brother Jaime call you right after we get off the phone. He can help you trace anything.”
“For fuck’s sake, does he know I’m still alive too?” she replied dryly. “Why don’t we just take a goddamn ad out in the Tribune?”
Jack smirked across the desk at Sam. “Rabbonisci,37 Rox. Don’t worry—we’re both good at keeping secrets.”
“You better be, cabrón. I know where you live.”
Jack glanced at Alejo. “Yeah, so does your brother.”
“Can Jaime trace burners?” Rox asked. “Haug gave me a one-time-use number that Lightner gave her just in case they got separated, but I don’t know if it’s legit.”
“I’ll call him right now and discuss it,” Jack replied, pulling out his phone. He pointed to the garden, indicating he’d step out to make the call, and Samantha nodded.
“Rox, I want you and Avi focused on who might be his potential buyer,” Sam told her. “If Lightner hired Haug with these warheads in mind, he had a plan in place.”
“Do you think he’s selling to a former client from Leviathan?” Alejo asked.
“That, or he could have set up a sale on the darknet,” Sam speculated.
“Since Lightner only got one warhead, dollars to doughnuts he’s going to be scrambling either way,” Carey added. “How big are the casks? Can he travel with them?”
“About the size of a keg and fairly heavy,” Rox replied. “It’s doable but not easy. We all assumed he’d be travelin
g by boat since this happened at the port, but he escaped in a car after Cameron Kurt was killed.”
“Shit,” Sam rubbed her eyes. “That poor bastard.” She hadn’t known Kurt long, but she liked the guy a great deal. He had an easy-going way about him, despite his lethal skills. He’d gotten along with the Lennox Chase crew almost immediately when she’d stolen him away from Leviathan. “We have to break the news to his family. I should do it.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Carey said over the line. “You can’t beat yourself up over this, Sammy. His number was up in Somalia when we went in to get him a few months back. Sometimes you just can’t beat fate. Kurt was eyes wide open on this mission—he knew the risks.”
Sam sighed, leaning back in the chair, heart heavy. “I want his family taken care of.”
“Done.”
“Carey, I did the background check on Kurt for Sammy before she hired him. I can send you his files,” Rox offered. “He’s got a mother and girlfriend in Tennessee.”
“I’d appreciate that, Rox. I’ll fly out today to do it face-to-face,” Carey answered. “The more I know, the better it’ll be.”
“Wyatt, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t insist we get you out of here,” Alejandro interjected after a moment of silence. “Let’s assume you’re wrong about Lightner, and he’s just bat-shit crazy enough to show up here to blow Wyatt Ranch to kingdom come. You shouldn’t be here just to make it easier.”
“I want to know more before I make any decisions,” Sam replied, glancing outside the French doors where Jack stood talking on the phone to his brother. “Rox, work with Jaime to get a bead on where Lightner is. The sooner we know something, the sooner I can decide what moves we make next.”
“You got it, boss.”
“Carey, tell me if there’s anything Kurt’s family needs that we can provide. I don’t care how long he was with us. He was one of ours,” Samantha said in no uncertain terms.
Fearless: Complicated Creatures Part Three Page 37