Jack clenched the brunette’s hair, pushing her face down into the pillow, pounding into her hard and fast as he descended somewhere dark and depthless, the high turning into something sinister, more desperate.
He just needed some conceivable relief.
Something.
Anything.
Anything besides what he’d been left with—
“Samantha!” he shouted, climaxing violently.
Distantly, Jack heard a phone ringing.
He pushed up, flushing the toilet. He found a phone near the Jacuzzi in the massive bathroom.
“Mr. Roman? This is the front desk. I just wanted to remind you that check out is at noon, unless you’d like the Regent Suite another night?”
Jack saw his reflection in the beveled mirror across the expanse of white marble. He saw the dark shadows under his eyes, the heavy growth on his jaw, barely recognizing himself.
“I’m a bit jet-lagged,” he croaked, running a shaking hand through the mess of his hair, turning away from his reflection. “Can you remind me what day it is?”
“December 14th, sir,” the man answered dutifully. “May I send up coffee and breakfast?”
Three days.
Madre di Dio, three days gone…
“That won’t be necessary,” he responded gruffly. “I’ll need to keep the room one more day.”
“That won’t be a problem, sir. Please ring down if you require anything. At The Langham, we pride ourselves on service to our guests. If you require anything, please just let us know.”
“Thank you,” Jack muttered, hanging up.
He splashed water on his face and gargled mouthwash before returning to the bedroom. He picked up his clothes amidst the debauchery of strewn lingerie, empty glasses, and uneaten food. Nia and the mystery brunette slept on, naked on opposite sides of the bed, like fallen dominoes.
Jack found every pill, wiped every surface, tossing all the paraphernalia into the toilet as shame blanketed him, his cheeks ablaze with humiliation and self-reproach with every reminder of his failure at composure and fortitude in the wake of losing Samantha. His stomach felt acidic, his body dehydrated, and his mouth desiccated. He dressed quickly, finding his mobile phone, long-dead, alongside his wallet.
Jaime, he recalled belatedly. Oh God, he’s got to be freaking out right now.
Jaime had known Jack was returning back to the penthouse to patch things up with Samantha, but after a few days of rare radio silence, he’d be going out of his mind with worry, wondering where the hell his brother was. Jack hadn’t gone off the reservation like this in years—not since he was using.
He stifled a groan as he let himself out of the suite, wondering what he would say, how he could explain falling off the wagon on an epic multi-day bender with his former dealer, doing God-knew-what with God-knew-who.
Jack shrugged off the doorman’s offer of a taxi at the hotel, choosing to walk home down The Magnificent Mile in the freezing cold, his cashmere coat inadequate in the face of the Windy City’s powerful December gusts.
By the time he made it back to The Whitney, Jack was completely numb but utterly, painfully sober. He’d lost entire days to his rage and helplessness, looking in all the wrong places for something to block out all his longing and malice. He could find no comfort, no rest. Nothing was truly distracting. There was no conceivable relief, no high powerful enough to anesthetize him against the reality that Samantha was gone, that she might not come back—that he may never see her alive again.
“Where the fuck have you been!?”
Jack’s head snapped up at the sound of Jaime’s voice as he let himself into the penthouse.
Jaime paced toward him, anger flaring in his eyes.
“Jaime?” Jack asked in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you, si miserabili pezzi di merda!28 So I’ll ask you again: Where the fuck have you been?” He looked over Jack, surveying his unshaven jaw, the mess of his hair. Jack wondered if he smelled like booze and whores. Jaime’s disgusted expression gave him his answer.
“Thank God my daughter isn’t here to see her Uncle Jack look like he dragged himself out of the gutter,” Jaime spat out. “Arrampicarsi sugli specchi,29 asshole, because I’ve been worried sick about you. You haven’t answered your phone in days, and I know Sam isn’t here anymore.”
Jack sighed as he shrugged out of his coat. “Let me get a shower before I get to the groveling apologies. How long have you been here?”
“Since this morning,” Jaime told him, eyeing Jack’s pallid skin and drawn expression, taking in the redness of his eyes with a pissed-off look. “You’ve been using again, haven’t you?”
“No,” Jack denied, shame curdling his stomach. What good would it do to tell him the truth?
Jaime’d only worry more about his relapse. Jack had caused enough damage and worry to his still-recovering little brother.
“I haven’t been sleeping and I’ve been with an ex, but I didn’t use,” he lied, moving past Jaime as he kept his eyes down.
“You reek, asshole.”
“I know,” Jack admitted, heading up his stairs. “Let me shower first. I’ll be right down so I can apologize to you properly.”
Jack caught a glimpse of his brother’s disappointed expression as he reached the landing. He paused, leaning heavily on the banister, head down in shame at the worry he’d caused.
“I’m sorry, Jaime,” he admitted quietly. “I’m sorry I scared you. It was stupid and irresponsible. I fucked up, and I’m more remorseful than you know. La prego di accettare le mie scuse.”30
Jaime ran a hand through his hair, holding the back of his neck as he blew out a frustrated sigh. “Just get cleaned up. Then you can try to explain what the hell is going on with you.”
*
Dec 14th—Late Morning
Airfield near Wyatt Ranch, Texas
S A M A N T H A
“The porch light is always on for you, Sammy,” Aunt Hannah told her, her smile tremulous as she ran her hands tenderly down Samantha’s face.
Sam nodded, swallowing hard against the onslaught of emotion as she looked into her aunt’s watery blue eyes. “I love you too, Aunt Hannah.”
“You go get this sonofabitch, Sammy girl,” her Uncle Grant told her gruffly as he gave her a bear hug. “You lay this to rest once and for all and come home, you hear?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied as he pressed a kiss against her temple before stepping back, wrapping his arm around Aunt Hannah’s shoulders.
Sam swiped hastily at her eyes, aware that Rush and Talon were watching her from the jet’s stairwell, waiting for her to board while Marvin oversaw the cargo loading.
Willa pulled her into a swift hug. “I’m not going to cry again, you bitch,” Willa muttered low. “But I’m telling you now: Do what you need to do to make it back. I don’t care what it is.”
Sam nodded, hugging her friend quickly. “Take care of Carey, alright?”
“That should be the other way around,” Carey declared as he dropped a heavy arm around her shoulders, steering her toward the jet before Willa could lose it. “No one knows you’re landing in London except us,” he told her as he squeezed her into his side. “So you shouldn’t have any nasty surprises waiting for you from Lightner or anyone else.”
“Meeting with Avi Oded set up?”
“Done,” he said, waving Marvin over. “I told him the head of our London office would meet him for a drink at Claridge’s in Mayfair.”
“So he’ll be expecting a ginger-haired British man for afternoon tea?” she mused.
“Figured that’d be a good cover,” Carey smirked. “He says he has intel on Nazar. He’ll use that to try to get an offer from us, so he should arrive with something juicy.”
“Or it’ll be a trap,” she said guardedly.
“You’ll see him coming from a mile away if it is, Sammy,” Carey replied before turning to Marvin. “They got everything they need?”
&n
bsp; “Yep. An SUV will be waiting for you when you arrive,” Marvin informed Sam. “Keys to the safe house will be in the glove compartment. Groceries are packed,” he nodded toward the cargo hold. “More munitions than you can shake a stick at. Only thing you’re missing is a bazooka.”
Sam glanced up at Carey. “Now you know what to get me for Christmas.”
“Consider it done,” he laughed.
“You’ll call us as soon as you land?” Marvin asked.
“Yeah,” she nodded as she let Carey go and stepped toward the jet. “Take care of Bear, Marvin.”
“Why does everyone have to take care of me?” Carey complained. “I’m the one who’s in charge now.”
“Precisely why you need all the help you can get,” Sam replied, waving to Willa, Aunt Hannah, and Uncle Grant as she ascended the stairs. “Love you guys!” she called out.
“Love you back!” Willa shouted as Aunt Hannah covered her mouth, tears rolling down her cheeks. Uncle Grant squeezed her close, tipping his cowboy hat toward Sam.
“You better get your ass back here as soon as it’s done, you hear?” Carey called out as the flight attendant moved forward to pull up the jet door. “Otherwise, I’m coming to get ya,” he winked.
Sam nodded perfunctorily, slipping into the dim, cool interior of the jet. She sat down across from Rush and Talon, pressing her hand to the window as her family waved below.
“You’ll see them just in time for the New Year,” Rush told her, buckling his seat belt.
“No telling,” she replied, as they began the short taxi off to what she expected would be the toughest battle of her life.
Chapter 20
Dec 15th—Afternoon
Jack’s Office in The Loop, Chicago
J A C K
Sunlight sparkled off the snow and ice that covered Chicago like a magnificent, pale crystal shroud. People and cars moved about the streets and sidewalks below like black ants working in unison. The atmosphere suited his mood.
He felt blank and numb, his soul a frozen tundra, his mind still whirring, while everything else remained buried in suspended animation. Jack kept his emotions tightly locked up since his recent misstep. He didn’t trust them anymore. Besides, emotions only led to more heartache—a feeling so alien to him, Jack could only think of dousing it with painkillers and enough benzodiazepines to keep him knocked out for days.
He turned away from the broad expanse of windows lining his corner office as he heard Mitch knock on his door and subsequently enter. Mitch cocked his head as he took in Jack’s appearance, his eyes showing approval.
“This is the first I’ve seen you suited up since Brazil,” Mitch remarked. “It’s good to have you back in the office. Especially after that little disappearing act.”
“It’s good to be back,” Jack conceded. “And I’m sorry for putting you and Jaime through that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t handling things well.”
“Did you relapse?” Mitch asked pointedly, shutting the door behind him.
“No,” Jack lied smoothly, deciding it was in everyone’s best interest—especially his—if he didn’t burden them with his recent slip-up. Jack didn’t want to cause Mitch or his family anymore stress and pain coming off the wake of Brazil. “I hooked up with an ex and got a little lost in her wonderland.” He shrugged nonchalantly, turning away from the bank of windows.
“Must be some ex,” Mitch drawled, sitting down.
“You could say that,” Jack replied, handing Mitch a folder in an effort to distract him from further questioning.
Mitch flipped open the file to examine the documents. “New land deal?” he asked.
“Not quite.”
Jack watched Mitch’s brows rise as he examined the documents inside. When Mitch finally looked up from the sheaf of papers, he blinked in obvious disconcertion.
“Normally we’re on the same page,” Mitch began, scratching his head. “But I’m not sure I’ve had enough coffee to follow this line of thought,” he said, holding up the file. “Why the hell are you having our broker buy shares of Leviathan Risk International? Leviathan’s not even in real estate. And they’re a British company,” he pointed out. “Since when do we buyout businesses in the UK? We’re an American land developer, Jack.”
“Thanks for explaining our business model to me, Mitch,” Jack replied dryly. He crossed his arms, expecting a fight. “As of today, we’re diversifying.”
Mitch regarded him silently for a moment before sighing. “You told me things were over between you and Sam, Jack. Then you vanish for a few days, and now you want to initiate a hostile takeover of her largest competitor.” He shook his head in exasperation. “What the hell is going on with you, Jack?”
“I’m going to take down Lucien Lightner,” Jack replied determinedly. “I’m going to take everything away from him that he ever built.”
“Clearly you can try, but what I want to know is why?” Mitch asked with a furrowed brow. “Sam’s not the kind of woman who needs help, and frankly, if she wanted to buy Leviathan out, she could do so using her own net worth, with or without Lennox Chase.”
“She’s going after him in a different way,” Jack told him. “I want to make sure he’s got nothing left to stand on. And there’s only one way to take down a behemoth.”
“From all sides,” Mitch surmised. “But if we go through with this and it works, what will we do with an international security firm? It doesn’t exactly fit in with our real estate portfolio,” he pointed out rationally.
Jack sat at the edge of his desk, crossing his arms.
“Jack, man, you’ve lost it over this one,” Mitch said, shaking his head. “When I met Samantha, I knew she was a match for you, but you’ve gone and lost damn your mind.” Mitch sat back in his chair. “What are you planning to do? Buy out her top competitor, and then offer Leviathan to her on a silver platter—as what?” Mitch asked. “A wedding gift?”
“I see three possible outcomes right now,” Jack responded, ignoring his last comment. “She’s either going to succeed in killing Lightner, or she’ll incapacitate him so badly that the company will become hers anyway. Or their struggle will result in a standoff, in which case, I’ll be able to tip the scales in her favor by pulling the rug out from under him. And in a worst-case scenario—if Lightner succeeds in killing her—he’ll be left to deal with me.”
“But no matter the outcome, you want to remain in the mix,” Mitch concluded, picking up the file again. “You control Leviathan completely, or you’re partners with her, or you give it to her as an offering. But regardless of what happens, any ensuing steps would require your engagement and assent.”
“‘All roads lead to Rome,’” Jack quoted succinctly.
“Nice metaphor. But this is a dangerous gamble, Jack,” Mitch warned. “We’ve never taken over a company outside of the United States and in an industry we have no experience in—just so you can stay involved with a woman. Albeit an outstanding woman,” he conceded. “But since when did we make business decisions based on our love lives?”
“Samantha and I may not be together, but I’ll be damned if I stand aside and let Lightner harm her.”
“You can’t chase after a woman like Sam, Jack,” Mitch argued. “You’ll only make her run away faster. And a tender offer of a leveraged buy-out would be a massive gamble—”
“What’s the point of amassing an empire if you can’t wield its power, Mitch?” Jack interrupted with a slice of his hand. “What’s the point of all of this money and political capital if we can’t use it to take care of the people we love? If we can’t protect our own kingdoms?” Jack pushed off the desk, turning back toward the window. “You have no idea what it’s like to feel utterly helpless—like I did in Rio. I won’t ever feel that way again.”
Jack gazed out over the city, eyes focusing on a plane overhead, wondering where she was, whether she was in it or if she was long gone, already in the Middle East somewhere. He turned, resting his hands
on his desk as he regarded Mitch.
“Now that I know Lightner’s running the plays, I will take him out with every weapon at my disposal. I may not be a military strategist, but this is my field of battle,” he said, pointing at the file. “The only question that now remains is: Are you with me in this or not?”
“I’m your best friend, Jack. I’ve built this company with you, but I’m also the voice of reason, and I have to ask you the hard questions,” Mitch argued, standing. “Have you thought through this clearly? Really clearly?” Mitch asked. “Sam just broke up with you, Jack. These things happen. You don’t go apeshit and leverage buyouts on massive corporations outside of your portfolio to get over a woman. You get drunk, fuck a bunch of people you probably shouldn’t, and then move the hell on.”
“I tried that,” Jack replied, laconic. “Didn’t work.”
“It’s like Novocain, Jack. Give it time—it always works.”
Jack straightened, resolute. “You’re on or off the bus, Mitch. This is happening either way.”
“Goddammit, Jack, you’re a stubborn bastard.”
“I also get what I want, Mitch,” Jack replied. “And I want Lightner’s head on a stick. He threatened the one woman I’ve ever loved. I won’t let that slide.”
“And if Sam doesn’t appreciate this move?”
“She thinks she’s protecting me, Mitch,” Jack told him. “This will prove once and for all that I not only don’t need protecting, but that I’m her partner in this. That I’ll do whatever I can to help her, whether she asks for it or not.”
Mitch stared hard at him for long moments, the tension stretching between them as they squared off.
“You’re a giant pain in my ass, Jack,” Mitch finally sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair in frustration. “And I want it on the record that your obsession with Sam, getting mixed up with Lightner, and this takeover bid are an unholy trinity.”
Jack smiled slowly. “So you’re in.”
“When have I ever not had your back?” Mitch asked with an arched look.
Complicated Creatures: Part Two Page 22