“If you’ve got something to say, then say it, girl.” Gemma regarded her coolly.
Samantha looked back, not daring to turn away, and noticed anew that her eyes were the exact same shape and color as her mother’s.
No matter what she’d done, she hadn’t been able to forget where she’d come from. So maybe it was time to start confronting instead of running.
A trickle of excitement worked its way through her rage. If she could do it, if she could face this, then maybe it wouldn’t be too late to make things right with Elijah.
With an uneasy look at Beth—the younger sister she’d tried so hard to protect—Samantha turned back and faced her mother.
“How could you do it?” she asked quietly. Bitterness coated her tongue as the rage and disappointment of years past tried to flood through the small door she’d opened inside herself.
On the bed, the sickly woman shifted fretfully, her eyes darting away from her daughter.
“Don’t you dare say you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Samantha said, cutting her mother off when the woman opened her mouth, not giving her a chance to deny it. From the corner of her eye she saw Beth shift uneasily, and Samantha cringed as she understood she couldn’t protect her kid sister anymore.
“I told you what he did,” Samantha continued quietly. Though she wanted nothing more than to look away—to run away—she forced herself to study her mother. The years hadn’t been kind to Gemma Collins, a woman once so beautiful that she’d attracted scores of wealthy men.
But her mother had traded so much for that ritzy lifestyle, and that was what Samantha couldn’t find it within herself to forgive. Gemma had turned a blind eye to Beth’s illness, to Samantha’s problems, to the needs of the children who depended on her.
“I told you what he did, and you used my pain to manipulate him.” Saying the words out loud ripped the scab off the old wound, and Samantha grimaced as it bled anew. “You took money from him to keep quiet, rather than doing what you should have and standing by me.”
“That money let me keep you girls fed,” Gemma finally snapped, struggling to sit up in the narrow bed. Her skin was nearly as white as the sheets, save for two bright red circles of anger that popped up on her cheeks. “It was the lesser of two evils.”
“You could have gotten a job. Could have stopped drinking. Could have stopped leeching off rich men who couldn’t keep their hands off your daughter.” Samantha heard Beth’s startled intake of breath and held up a hand to stave off the questions.
Gemma glared at Samantha, defiance written all over her face. But there was no apology, no true repentance, just anger that Samantha was calling her out.
And then, suddenly, Samantha felt sorry for her mother. The woman would never know what it was like to be with someone she loved.
And in that moment she knew that she would do whatever it took to make Elijah see that they were meant to be together. She would find the strength to tell him everything—if he ever forgave her for running away from him.
“Why is Stanley calling you again?” Samantha no longer cared for herself, but she wouldn’t put it past either the man or his on-again-off-again mistress to take out their frustrations on Beth. “What does he want?”
“He loves me,” Gemma snapped, her fingers clutching the sheets as she looked from one daughter to the other. “He’s come back to me time and time again when my own daughter hasn’t.”
“You know better than that.” Strength was flooding up inside her, Samantha realized, growing with every word that she spoke. She’d never dreamed that evicting the monkey that had sat on her back for so many years would feel so freeing.
“He likes having control over you, but he doesn’t love you.” Pain stabbed through her when she saw that she’d touched a nerve—maybe she wasn’t as numb to her mother as she’d thought. Still she felt the need to finish now that she’d started.
“He hasn’t come around for years now. So what is it that he wants?”
“Get out.” Gemma’s voice was full of venom as she waved a shaky finger at Samantha. “Go. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
No, definitely not as numb as she’d thought, because she felt each word slicing through her heart.
“Good-bye.” She nodded at Gemma, then moved to hug Beth, who cast her a bewildered look and clasped her sister’s hand.
“Let’s go,” Beth said, and Samantha started. Her little sister’s face was composed, but Samantha knew her well enough to see the anger that seethed just below the surface.
“You can stay.” Gemma gestured in Beth’s direction, like a queen who had just had her stomach pumped. “You’ve always been a good girl.”
Beth rounded on their mother, and Samantha was surprised that flames didn’t shoot out of her sister’s mouth.
“I have spent years—years—catering to you because I thought that maybe, just maybe, you lived the way you did because you couldn’t take care of yourself.” Beth’s fingers trembled, and Samantha gave them a reassuring squeeze. “You think I would stay now? I cleaned your house. I cooked for you. I bought you groceries. I mopped up your puke when you got so drunk you didn’t even know your name, and I picked you up from bars that you had no business going to.”
Gemma’s face was frozen, her eyes glassy, her skin waxy.
“And now I find out that one of your johns put his hands on my sister, and all you did was ask for more money.” Beth was visibly vibrating against Samantha, and pride washed over her.
“I’m done. We’re done.” Beth looked at Samantha, with quiet apology in her eyes.
Samantha shook her head—no apology needed. She would have done it all over again if she had to.
“Let’s go.” Samantha tugged on her sister’s arm. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the confrontation had sent her sister’s blood sugar levels skyrocketing again.
The two young women left their mother without a backward glance. As they passed through the doorway, Samantha felt as though she’d left an immense weight behind.
Halfway down the hall, Beth dug her fingers into Samantha’s palm and gestured at a small, sterile sitting area.
“I need to sit down.” She lowered herself into an ugly avocado green vinyl chair that had probably sat in the same spot for thirty years, and Samantha looked over her sister with a practiced eye.
Glassy eyes. Pale cheeks. Disoriented look. Unless she was mistaken, her sister’s blood sugar had dropped this time, rather than shooting up.
A counter full of trays holding that evening’s hospital meal sat across the hall. Not caring that Beth wasn’t a registered patient, Samantha grabbed one and lugged it over to the rickety coffee table in front of Beth. After perusing the contents and wrinkling her nose at the mystery meat surprise, she removed the carton of apple juice and the bowl of green Jell-O.
“Here.” She handed them to Beth, then perched in a chair across from her sister. Beth eyed the Jell-O with distaste before peeling back the foil lid on the juice.
“Still taking care of me, huh?” Beth sipped at the juice, color washing back into her face.
“I’ll never stop,” Samantha replied, and she knew it was the truth. The need to take care of her sister was an integral part of her after so many years—and it was why she could finally see how lucky she’d been to find a man as good as Elijah. Someone who would take care of her for a change.
God, she hoped she hadn’t fucked it up beyond repair.
“About Stanley,” Beth began hesitantly, draining her juice and crumpling the plastic cup in her hand.
Samantha shook her head and held up her hand, stopping her sister from speaking.
“It’s in the past now, Bethy. Truly.” Or it would be as soon as she told Elijah. And she would tell him, she suddenly saw. She wanted to be his, in every way possible, if only it wasn’t too late. “Let’s just move on.”
“Move on from what?”
Samantha froze as she heard the words that came from behind her. He
r entire being snapped to attention, tuned in to the man whose voice she would have recognized anywhere.
Beth looked up—and up—and whistled with appreciation.
Samantha didn’t even flush at her sister’s reaction. Instead she turned around slowly to find a pissed-off Dom staring down at her.
“Sir.” Her mouth went dry. This mattered, more than she’d ever imagined it would. He mattered.
“Sir?” she heard Beth mutter, as if from far away. “I’m not going to ask. But I’ll leave you two alone.”
“Don’t go back in there.” Only for Beth was Samantha able to rip her attention away from the one person who could command her attention.
“As if. I meant it when I said I was done.” Beth snorted. “I won’t go far. We still have to talk.”
“Take your Jell-O.” The words were automatic, as was listening for her sister’s long, suffering sigh. Then Beth shuffled away, leaving Samantha alone with Elijah.
He followed me. Her body itched to sink to her knees in apology, or to leap into his arms and smother his face with kisses. The only thing stopping her was the nurse who now guarded the counter full of food trays and who was eyeing Elijah with undisguised fascination.
Samantha couldn’t blame her. Even dressed casually in jeans and a blue-striped polo shirt, he was gorgeous. Powerful. Sexy.
Dominant.
“You’re here.” The words felt stiff. There was a barrier between them, one of her own making, but she had no idea how to go about breaking it down.
“You’re mine,” Elijah responded, his stare pinning her in place. “Though your actions tell me that you don’t feel the same way.”
Guilt unlike anything she’d ever felt before washed over Samantha. She shivered, suddenly cold, as she realized what a major wound it was that she’d inflicted into the heart of their relationship.
To hell with the nurse who was ogling her man. To hell with everyone who might see. She wanted to give Elijah everything, and she didn’t care who knew.
On trembling legs, she moved away from her chair and crossed to where Elijah stood. He watched her, his expression unyielding, until she dropped to her knees in front of him.
She caught a flicker of shock in his eyes before she dropped her stare to the ground. She clasped her hands in front of her, lacing her fingers together until they went numb.
God, she hoped she wasn’t too late. How stupid she’d been. He’d shown her, over and over, that he could be trusted with everything she had.
Now she just had to prove that she would give it to him.
“I’m so sorry, Elijah.” The words were pale in comparison to what she felt. Just as when she’d tried to hide the phone call from Beth, Samantha realized that she had no idea how to say sorry in this world. And she wasn’t sure she could depend on her teacher to instruct her any further.
Elijah nodded, but terror roiled in Samantha’s stomach when she saw that, for the first time since she’d met him, he looked uncertain. “I’m not in a place where I’m prepared to listen to you tonight,” Elijah started, and the nerves in her gut rolled over, making her nauseous.
She saw then how deeply she’d hurt him, and it horrified her. She hadn’t known she’d had that much power over his feelings, or she would have been much more careful with them.
She’d been so stupid. There was no shame in showing him the less than perfect side of herself. In fact, giving that part of herself to him was empowering.
She didn’t have to shoulder her burden alone.
“Are you—are you ending it? Officially?” Samantha whispered. She felt as if the weight that she’d left back in Gemma’s room had returned to slam her on the head.
Elijah paused, that stare of his making her feel naked.
“I don’t want to.” His words were raw and honest. “I see you submitting now, but I don’t know if I can move past your actions, which tell me that you don’t trust me. This kind of relationship can’t work without trust going both ways, Samantha. You know that.”
“I—” She had no words. The truths that had seemed so real when she’d spoken to Beth in the ladies’ room at Veritas now seemed flimsy bared in the fluorescent lights of the hospital.
What had she been thinking, running from the one man who had given her things she’d always wanted? So he was going to see who and what she came from? She should have trusted that he could handle it. But now—now she was going to tell him what had happened with that bastard.
He’d demonstrated to her that he would accept her entirely, so long as she was honest with him. And in return she’d thrown that gift right back in his face.
She swallowed deeply, willing herself not to cry.
“Is it too late to tell you?” She laced her fingers tightly together to stop the trembling.
A flash of—could that be pain?—worked over Elijah’s face.
“I don’t know,” he replied, and Samantha grabbed on to the sliver of hope with both hands. “But tonight isn’t the time.”
Samantha nodded, her teeth biting into her lower lip until she tasted blood.
“I’m going to stay with my sister tonight, at her apartment.”
Elijah nodded, his face carefully blank.
“Julien booked me into a nearby hotel. The Three Sisters Inn, I believe.” Elijah’s face was serious, but Samantha had a hard time picturing the wealthy tycoon at the small-town hotel. Just as she was starting to have a hard time imagining their lives ever really fitting together, no matter how hard she hoped.
“All right.” She stared up at him, not daring to be submissive in that moment. She was going to fight for this man with everything she had. “When can we talk?”
Elijah looked at her for a long moment, considering. “Tomorrow morning you will come to me. You can tell me what you need to tell me. And then we’ll decide if you want to return to Vegas or go back to Mexico, or stay here.”
Samantha blanched at the firm tone. Knowing Elijah, she understood that what she professed to want wasn’t going to be the deciding factor in that decision, but rather what Elijah perceived that she truly desired.
“I want to go back to Vegas with you.” She made her words as firm as she could, but Elijah only raised an eyebrow.
“We’ll discuss it tomorrow.”
Her mouth dry, she parted her lips to speak, but Elijah frowned at her, and she understood that he didn’t want to hear from her.
Her knees trembled as she stood. Being around him without being able to touch him was painful . . . and she knew that he wouldn’t permit her to put her hands on him until he said the words.
“I need to go find Beth. She’s had a hell of a day, and she and I need to talk.” It was an excuse to escape this painful distance that had crept up between them. For once, Samantha felt more compelled to do something besides taking care of her sister. Maybe it was because Beth had shown her that she was quite capable of taking care of herself by standing up to their mother.
“I understand why you did what you did, Samantha.” The connection between them pulsed, a tangible thing. “But I need some time.”
“Time. Right.” Samantha looked at her fingers, twisted together in a knot as tight as the one in her belly.
Shame flooded through her, a sickly wave. Had she messed it all up with the man who was everything she’d ever wanted? She shook her head helplessly, finally giving in to the prickles of tears.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” Turning, Samantha headed off in the direction that Beth had gone, her steps halting. It killed her to walk away.
But she’d walk right back in the morning. And she’d be damned if she left him again.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Elijah waited until Samantha was at the end of the hall before standing and following in that direction. He knew he’d given her a lot to think about, and it weighed heavily on him that he’d dumped it on her on a day that had clearly already been long enough.
No matter what she was thinking now, she was still his, a
nd he was responsible for her safety. He would make sure that she and her sister got back home safely.
And no matter what she now thought, the decision that would be made tomorrow was entirely hers. He already knew what he wanted—knew it with startling clarity.
He wanted her, wanted his smart-mouthed bedroom submissive with an intensity that bordered on painful.
But she’d hurt him in a way he hadn’t thought possible, more than even Tara had hurt him. He saw now that his ex had only ever played with submission.
Samantha—he had a real chance with her. An opportunity for everything both of them had ever wanted. Everything in him wanted to accept the submission she’d so beautifully offered. But he needed a bit of distance to think, to work through the feelings that she’d roused in him.
Damn it, she’d wounded his pride along with his heart by not trusting him. He was a dominant man, but he bled just like everyone else.
He followed at a discreet distance as she met up with her sister, and the two women exchanged a few words. The family resemblance was definitely there, he noted as he curiously studied the woman who meant so much to Samantha.
What he felt for Samantha was an all-consuming passion. Lust like he had never known before.
And mixed with that were intense feelings . . . feelings that felt a lot like love.
The two sisters hugged and linked hands, moving down the hall to the entrance of the hospital. Elijah saw Samantha stiffen and was on alert before he saw what it was that upset her.
A man in his midfifties whose pricey suit couldn’t hide a sizable belly had just entered the hospital. Though he may have seemed fairly innocuous to some, Elijah could see that this man’s eyes were nothing but cruel.
Shit. Samantha had frozen, was clearly fighting through terror. Before he could think it through, Elijah was striding down the hallway, his long legs eating up the distance, driven by the primal need to protect his woman.
“. . . just go away. Leave all of us alone.” Beth’s words jangled with nerves.
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