“No,” Wes shook his head. “That was a cruel and chickenshit move,” he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Trust me: I’ve wanted to kick my own ass for years.” He paused, searching for the right words. There were none. “It’s not an excuse, but I really thought we’d be better off without each other. I thought we’d just hold each other back and come to resent one another for it. And I knew if I saw you, I wouldn’t be able to do it. I wouldn’t have been able to leave you, especially then.” He drew in a shaky breath. “So I cut you to the quick—destroyed your faith and trust in me with one incredibly foolish move,” he admitted.
She sipped her water again, considering him, her expression contemplative as he watched her cool and harden, the distance between them widening though they sat a couple feet from each other.
“Sammy—”
“Wes, it’s fine,” she cut him off. “What happened between us was years ago. It’s water under the proverbial bridge now.”
Wes leaned back, buying time as he absorbed her casual disregard. He’d seen the flare in her eyes, the momentary flash that burst through the ice queen demeanor. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was something.
“If that’s the case,” he began carefully, “why weren’t you planning on speaking to me when you knew I was your client?”
“NBS is the client, Wes. You’re just the cargo,” she replied matter-of-factly.
“Oh, I think we both know I’m more than that, Sammy,” he responded, allowing the barest of smirks to tilt his mouth.
“Just because I loved you once, doesn’t mean I owe you anything,” she answered smoothly. “Now you’re just some guy I knew once. In a long line of many,” she added, her eyes cool. Wes winced at the cut, just as she’d wanted him to. He would have allowed the wound to bleed if he didn’t believe she was feigning nonchalance. He could sense her self-restraint. Even after all these years, Wes felt attuned to her.
“That would bother me if I didn’t know you better, Sammy” he responded. “You avoided me because you didn’t want to take the chance I’d hurt you again.”
She smiled outright at that, as if he amused her.
“You’ve done well for yourself,” she commented casually, redirecting. “You always were cocky, but now you’ve got the accolades to go with the ego. Congratulations on the Pulitzer, by the way.”
“Thank you,” Wes acknowledged. “I took the photo that won with the Nikon you gave me. And it’s not egotistical if it’s the truth,” he shrugged, leaning back.
“I have no doubt you would have won an award without that camera,” she replied, ignoring his little speech. “A good camera doesn’t make up for talent. I always knew you’d go far.”
“Really?” he replied, tilting his head. “I didn’t.”
Sam appeared momentarily nonplussed by his admission of self-doubt. Wes took the opportunity to shift forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched her. “I’ve questioned whether I did the right thing, putting your future and my career in front of us, since the day I made that call.”
“Wes,” she sighed, closing her eyes, “there’s no need to revisit this. Truly.”
“Why not?” he countered, rising to stand. “The love of my life gets shot twice in front of me, and I don’t get to revisit the most terrifying realizations that hit me?”
“You don’t owe me anything either.” She shook her head. “And it’s unfair of you to dredge all this shit up when I feel like I’ve got an anvil strapped to my chest.” Sam touched her sternum gingerly, blanching.
Wes reached for the call button for the nurse. “Let’s get you some more painkillers.”
“Painkillers won’t do me any good for the conversation you want to have, Wesley,” Sam murmured, covering her hand over his, preventing him from hitting the button.
He flipped his hand over, curling his fingers around hers, marveling at how good it felt to touch her again, even if he didn’t have the right to.
“Can I at least tell you what I came to realize when I thought you were dead in my arms?” he asked.
Her brow quirked. “Just a tad melodramatic, don’t you think?”
“Creatives tend to be,” he acquiesced, stroking his thumb over her skin.
“You realized you and I had a good thing going once and we’ve gone on to live full lives since?” she guessed.
“I realized that I always thought I’d find my way back to you,” Wes corrected gently, not letting her go. “I realized I was waiting until I thought I had more to offer the woman of my dreams than pocket change and a life of fantasy.”
Sam considered him, pinned him in fact, with unerring lucidity. And he saw something in her eyes again, a familiar warmth, the briefest glimpse at the Sammy of his youth, a carbon copy of the girl who’d loved him once.
“I realized it was always going to happen—that we’d see each other again,” Wes continued. “And I could tell you I loved you the day I took a picture of you at the arches, and I don’t think I stopped loving you since.”
She closed her eyes against the look in his. And when she opened them again, it wasn’t Sammy. It was Samantha—in all her steely, hardened glory. The eyes she stared him down with glittered, and it seemed she solidified in front of him, her demeanor august and distant.
“What did you imagine would happen here, Wesley?” she asked, the softness of her tone diametrically opposed to the obsidian of her eyes. “Did you think you could come here with your regrets and realizations, and I’d open up my empty arms?”
Wes stiffened, and she smiled, mocking.
“Did you imagine I’d let you come back to me, pick up things where we left off over a dozen years ago?” she continued. “I got shot in the chest, Wes, not the head. I’m not suffering from temporary amnesia, and I’m definitely not interested in jaunts down memory lane with you.”
Wes grimaced, but he straightened and waited for more.
“You want to know why I didn’t plan on speaking to you?” she asked softly. “It’s because I didn’t give a damn about you anymore, Wes.” She raised a brow. “And frankly, I couldn’t be bothered.”
Though a part of him understood she was probably lying to protect herself, her words were so painful; Wes couldn’t prevent the wounds resulting from her lashes. He knew he deserved them and had no reasonable defenses against them. Every ounce of her vitriol and all those acerbic jabs directed right at the heart of him were completely justified, and for her, utterly necessary. So, though her words and the taunting look in her eyes lacerated him, he didn’t back down.
“I deserved that.”
“You deserve more,” she corrected softly.
The night nurse chose that moment to pop in and check on her. When she saw Wes, the nurse began chastising him in a torrent of Portuguese, telling him to leave. Wes remained resolutely by Sam’s side as the nurse checked on her bandages and adjusted the IV. She gave Sam something for the pain, at the same time shooting Wes dirty looks and muttering under her breath.
Evan dropped in then, striding past him to Sam’s bed. He flirted with the nurse in Portuguese before she could tell him off too, making her blush as she allowed him a few minutes with Sam.
“How’s it going, Boss?” Evan asked, refilling her water.
“Better now that I have a mother’s little helper,” Sam smiled, patting Evan’s hand in thanks. “How’re the guys?”
Evan glanced over his shoulder at Wes. “Hey, can you give us a couple minutes?”
Wes wavered as Sam leveled him with a ‘we’re done here’ look.
Finally, he nodded in ascent. Partly to prove a point and partly just to irritate the shit out of her, Wes lifted her hand to his mouth before stepping out of the room. He leaned against the wall by the door, shamelessly listening in as Evan updated her on how the team in Rio was doing, and what they’d done with the bodies at Santos Dumont. He listened to Evan tell her how they’d set guys on the task of locating Lightner though they didn’t think he was still in Brazil.
Evan assured Sam that the NBS crew was taken care of, told her some guy named Marvin was flying down in the morning to help her.
“And Jaime?” she asked, her voice drowsy.
“He’s good,” Evan reassured her. “Woke up about an hour ago. Jack was with him.”
“Tell Jack he should try to sleep while Jaime does. He’ll be a damn mess if he doesn’t get a couple hours.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Evan replied, his voice amused. “He’s passed out in one of the on-call rooms now.”
“Count on you to work your Southern charms on those hapless nurses,” she chuckled lazily. “That’s hardly fair, Evan.”
“Can’t help it that God gave me a pretty mama and a good-lookin’ daddy,” he replied, unrepentant.
“And so humble to boot,” she murmured, her voice drifting off.
“You catch some z’s, Boss,” Evan told her. “I’ve got Henri and Talon here with a few more guys hiding in plain sight. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Wes glanced into the room when he didn’t hear her reply. She lay sleeping, her head to the side. Wes watched silently as Evan lowered the bed and pulled the blanket over her shoulders, turning off the light.
“Give her some rest,” Evan told him as he passed, patting his shoulder. “You can try again tomorrow.”
“You heard our conversation?” Wes asked, whipping around in surprise.
“Nah,” Evan shook his head. “But I can see your face, and you look just about as heartbroken and busted up as a country song.”
“God,” Wes sighed. “I fucked up, man,” he confessed, following Evan down the corridor.
“It’s a good thing for you she’s one of the most rational and loyal people I know,” Evan replied casually. “Just give her some space. You probably know this, but she doesn’t like being crowded.”
Wes only nodded, knowing Evan was right.
“And if she doesn’t come around?”
Evan glanced at him. “Wes, man, I’d be more focused on what you’d do if she does. Then what?”
Chapter 6
December 3rd—Morning
Hospital Copa D’Or in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
S A M A N T H A
“Two extra hot, extra strong Brazilian coffees; extra-large for Sam and decaf for Carey,” Marvin called out cheerfully, sweeping into Carey’s room.
“You’re not allowed coffee!” Sam smacked Carey’s arm.
“This hard motherfucker took a shot to the chest,” Marvin pointed out. “He gets whatever he wants.”
“Yeah, I’m a hard motherfucker to kill,” Carey grinned, accepting the drink happily. “And I get what I want.” He wagged his brows. “Ask Marvin.”
Sam rolled her eyes, sipping her coffee as she sat back in the chair next to his bed. “Alright, but I’m drawing the line at strippers and cigars in the hospital room.”
Marvin grinned as he took a seat across from them and pulled out a tablet.
“Thanks for getting my bag, Marv,” Sam smiled at him, gesturing at the jeans and loose tee she was wearing.
“Can’t have you wandering all around the hospital with your ass hanging out, right?” Marvin grinned. “Besides, they’re discharging you today. Got you and Jack set up in a suite under his name at the Palace.”
“Two bedrooms?”
“Yup.”
Carey’s brow wrinkled. “Why would you want two rooms?”
“Oh, you know,” Sam shrugged. “I’m always a bit skittish after I get shot. Don’t want anyone touching me,” she smirked. “Can’t imagine why.”
Carey watched her, not entirely convinced something wasn’t up, but he didn’t say anything else.
“So we’ve got Ian McCall manning the helm right now,” Marvin informed them. “He’s been fully briefed by Rush and Talon, and he’s got people in London tracking Lightner.”
“Did you see Lightner?” Sam asked Carey. “Was he there when you were abducted?”
He shook his head. “Pulled the same thing with me he did with you. The Russian was waiting for me at the hotel, and he knocked me out. When I came to, I was on the jet, and he had Lightner on the phone. Lightner said he’d already gotten to you and that if I didn’t cooperate, he’d kill you.” Carey scowled, his face darkening.
“Rat bastard,” Sam muttered. “That slippery SOB probably wasn’t ever in Brazil.”
“He played us,” Carey agreed. “But how’d he know where we’d be? He had our logistics down pat. He knew exactly when and where to hit.”
“Inside job,” Marvin muttered. “Or a hack. I’m checking the servers now to see if someone broke into our emails and calendars.”
“What about someone in the travel department?” Sam asked.
“Not possible,” Marvin shook his head. “I book the jet, hotels and cars separately and compile the records myself. I’m the only one who knows where you guys are at all times.”
Carey looked at Sam. “Simon or Henri?”
She shrugged, the thought rubbing against her mind like a grain of sand. “It’s possible. Improbable, but possible.”
“Doubtful,” Marvin replied, looking up from his tablet. “Only a handful of people knew the change to your flight plans. I didn’t tell anyone besides Talon and Rush, and they’d die before they’d see either of you come to harm.”
“So it’s got to be a hack,” Sam ruminated.
Marvin nodded. “I think so too. I’ve got IT scouring the database now. It wouldn’t be that hard for a seasoned pro to hack our emails.”
“We need to find Lightner,” Carey rumbled, his head dropping back against the pillow. “Does he know we’re still alive?”
“I’m sure he suspects, since we massacred his guys,” Sam responded, sipping her coffee.
“What’d they do with the bodies?” Carey asked with interest.
“The guys put them on the plane. Told the pilots to take them to wherever they were told to fly in the first place,” Sam told him with a wicked little smirk. “Rush had detonators on the landing gear to make sure they cooperated.”
“Jesus, that’s cold,” Carey shook his head, a begrudging smile on his bruised face. “You’re so goddamn mean, Sammy,” he told her endearingly.
“He asked for it,” Sam drawled.
“That’s like a thousand-dollar punishment for a fifty-buck crime, Sammy.”
“I warned him he was toeing the line of declaring war, Bear,” Sam replied coolly. “And he reneged on his word and shot you anyway. I can’t stand a man who not only can’t look me in the eye, but lies to me outright. If those reasons aren’t cause enough for harsh returns, then I don’t know what are.”
“God help the stupid bastard who crosses Samantha Wyatt,” Marvin grinned. “Do I need to organize any cleanup here? Tie up any loose ends?”
“They guys cleaned the scene so there won’t be an investigation in Rio—not with all the riots happening anyway. There’s nothing that traces the jet back to us. And Rush put a tracker on it,” Sam informed them.
“Where’d it land?” Carey asked.
“Venezuela.”
“You think Lightner’s there?”
“Doubtful.” Sam replied, sipping her coffee. “I think that guy’s too slick to get anywhere near hot situations. He’s probably in London, tucked up in a crystal tower somewhere. Right now, I’m less worried about him and more worried about finding Nazar and getting you somewhere safe.”
“May I make a suggestion?” Marvin piped up.
“Of course.”
“Carey shouldn’t return to Chicago. There’s too much visibility there, and he needs time to recover,” Marvin pointed out. “We can have him manage everything he needs to cover via teleconference, but I think we should keep him off the grid for now. At least until he can fend for himself.”
“Agreed,” Sam nodded before Carey could protest. “I was thinking of sending him to the ranch.”
“What?” Carey glanced at both of them, surprised.
“Think about it, Bear,” Sam explained. “No one will get near that land without us knowing about it. We can have the hands stand watch, and we’ll send a few more guys with you to patrol. We got enough fire power between everybody to keep a militia stockpiled, and if that doesn’t work, they’ll still have to go through your mama.” Sam smiled, patting his hand. “You’ve seen her with a shotgun. That woman doesn’t play around,” she joked, though her underlying tone was serious. “And I won’t be distracted and worried about you when I go after Nazar.”
“Sammy, if you think I’m leaving you alone to go track down Lightner and Nazar—”
“Bear, you’re in no condition, and we both know I’ve got to strike while the iron’s hot. They fired the warning shot, and they won’t stop there. It’s up to me to respond.”
“You just shipped a plane full of dead bodies back to them. I’d say that’s a serious enough reply,” Carey pointed out wryly.
“It’s time to even the score—with Nazar first,” Sam stated bluntly. “He wants me? He’s gonna get me.”
“That’s guy’s gonna wish he’d stayed under a rock,” Marvin muttered, standing. “I’m going to talk to the doctors about transferring Carey to private care, and I’ll arrange for the jet to transport him up to Texas,” he said, excusing himself from the room.
Carey flinched as he tried to lever himself up again.
“If you’re getting ready to argue,” Sam told him, standing, “you’d better save your breath, Carrick Nelson. You’re not changing my mind on this. It’s fixed.”
“I’ve been up four hours, and you’re already talking about going after the one man in the world I’m actually worried about?” he replied, wincing as she pushed him gently back against the pillows.
Sam hit his morphine button, hating to see him in pain and hoping to take a little fight out of him.
“That’s just dirty pool,” Carey sighed, his expression softening with his drug-induced languor.
Sam leaned over him. “I need you safe, Bear. If I lost you—” Sam bit her lip, blinking hard. “I’m not going to lie to you and tell you I think I could handle it. You’re the only family I’ve got left in this world.” Sam took a deep breath, patting his shoulder as he blinked up at her drowsily. “So you’re going back to the ranch, and I don’t want to hear shit all about it.”
Complicated Creatures: Part Two Page 7