by B. B. Hamel
He groans and when he’s finished, he collapses onto the floor beside me.
“Thanks for ruining my outfit,” I say.
He grins. “You’re welcome.” He kisses me softly. “I’ll get you another one.”
“You better.” I can’t help but grin at him, though. I kiss him back, and soon we’re up in the shower, my clothes in his washing machine. I forget all about everything else as we shower together, talking, laughing, kissing, cleaning each other’s bodies, and it feels right.
There’s only one thing nagging at me. The same thing that’s been nagging since the start of this. Just the baby, growing inside of me, the baby Samuel doesn’t know about, not yet.
20
Samuel
I want to stay with her, never leave my damn bed, and that’s dangerous.
Especially right now. I look at Amelia and brush some hair from her face. She smiles at me, the light coming in through the window.
“We have to get up, don’t we?” she asks.
I nod a little. “Guess so.”
“What time is it?” she asks, and then laughs. “Stupid question, I know.”
I grin at her and glance to my left. There are at least four clocks, two of them partially taken apart, lying on the dresser there. “It’s a little after seven,” I say.
She sighs. “I’m going to be late for work.” She pushes herself up, hair spilling down around her, and I want to reach out, pull her back down, but I don’t. I know I can’t, even if that’s all I want. Together we took a break from reality, got lost in each other’s bodies like we’re able to do, and forgot about what’s happening out there.
But I can’t do that. I have a responsibility to my guys. I roll over and grab my phone, checking my texts. “Back into the real world,” I grumble as she slowly climbs out of bed. She puts on some clothes I gave her, since hers are still in the dryer, forgotten and wrinkled by now.
She shrugs a little bit, smiling. “We don’t have to, you know.”
“Of course we do.”
“We don’t.” She sits at the end of the bed. “We can just run away to Mexico, start new identities. I’m rich, you know.”
I laugh at that. “Why stop at Mexico? We can travel all over Europe.”
“I’ve always wanted to see Bruges.”
“You can see it, then.” I sit up and move toward her. I kiss her softly. “Some other time, though.”
“Yeah. Some other time.” She smiles sadly and stands up. “I’ll see you later?”
I shrug. “Probably. Better go see what the damage is first.”
“Yeah.” She hesitates and sighs. “Bye, Samuel.”
“Bye.” I watch her leave, and I fucking hate myself for it.
I get out of bed, shower off real fast, and get dressed. I call Roy and ask him what’s happening, he says people are at The Shaft and I’d better get my ass over there. He doesn’t sound happy, although he never does.
I drive over, dreading what I’ll find there. I keep thinking about Amelia and the night before, how comfortable that felt, how fucking good. She makes me feel like the world can be an okay place, not at all the way it really is.
It’s seductive. I don’t know how she does it. She somehow takes the dark, jagged edges of the world, and smooths them out, makes them seem better than they are. It’s not just her body, not just the fantastic sex we have, although that’s pretty fucking good. It’s more about her smile, the way she cocks her head at me when she’s listening, and the way she seems genuinely interested in my life.
I never thought I was interesting. I work in a damn mine, lived in this town my whole life, but she seems to give a shit about me anyway. It’s strange, answering questions about myself, even if I don’t want to. But it also feels good to have someone ask for once.
I pull up outside of The Shaft and climb out. There are a lot of cars in the parking lot, and I’m not surprised to find pretty much the whole union in there, most of the guys already drinking, although it’s barely eight in the morning now.
Roy finds me right away and steers me back outside. “We gotta talk,” he says.
“How are they?”
“Fine,” he grunts. “Boone’s fine. The others are too. Looks like Boone got the worst of it.”
I nod. “Good.”
“That’s not the problem, though.”
“What’s the problem?”
He looks away. “It’s that CEO. People heard about what happened yesterday.” He meets my gaze after a second. “Did you really get in a fight with three of Ingram’s goons right out front of the damn office?”
I nod. “They wouldn’t let me in.”
He sighs. “That’s reckless, Samuel. Even for you.”
“Worked out fine for me.”
“They had a gun.”
“They didn’t kill me.” I lean up against the wall and spit on the ground. “What the fuck do you want me to say, Roy, that I’m sorry? Because I’m not.”
“I know you aren’t,” he says softly. “But the fight ain’t the problem. It’s what happened after.”
I make a face. “What do you mean?”
“You left with her, that CEO girl. Amelia Evans.”
I sigh, and I know where this is going. “It’s not a problem.”
“It is a problem. They don’t fucking trust you in there.”
“Too bad,” I say, standing up straight. “I took a fucking beating for them. Nearly got a second one. They think I’m not on their side?”
“All they see is you leaving with that fucking Evans girl. Come on, Samuel. Use your fucking brain, not your dick, you know how this looks.”
I’m pissed off but I know he’s right. It looks fucking bad, and I’d think the same thing if I were them. I give him a look and move past him. He doesn’t try and stop me as I push back into the bar. I walk into the middle of the room and I can feel everyone slowly look at me, conversations stopping mid-sentence, a quiet coming over the room.
It’s a weird feeling, walking into the middle of a room and somehow silencing it with nothing but your presence. I push past that and cross my arms.
“Who here thinks I’m a fucking traitor?” I call out.
Nobody responds, but I can see people shifting uncomfortably.
“The strike was my idea,” I say. “I took a beating for you fuckers. I nearly took a bullet yesterday. And you bastards think I’m some kind of traitor?”
More silence, but I can see a few angry faces.
“Amelia Evans isn’t our fucking problem,” I say to them, softer this time. “I know, her last name is Evans, but she’s not the one we’re fighting here. It’s the other fucking suits we need to worry about.”
“How can we trust you?” Vernon calls out, standing suddenly. It feels like a knife in the gut. “You been fucking her this whole time.”
I stare at him and for a second, I know what real betrayal feels like. The whole room grumbles at that, reacting to it. Everyone knows Vernon’s a friend, and he’d know better than anyone who I’ve been fucking.
“I have been,” I say, and the grumbling gets louder, threatening to spill over into a full-on riot. “But she’s still on our fucking side,” I shout. “You all met her, and you all know who she’s working with. But more than that, you all know me. If you fucking cunts think I can’t be trusted, then fucking replace me. I won’t take a bullet for a bunch of cunts that don’t believe in what I’m doing anymore.”
Without another word, I storm off back outside. I can feel the room start talking as I leave, but fuck them. Roy shoots me a look, half annoyed and half pitying, but fuck him too.
I’ve had their best interests in mind this whole time, but now they’re ready to turn on me. They’re a bunch of cunts and bastards, as far as I’m concerned.
I don’t get too far when someone shouts my name. I turn and spot Sarah, Vernon’s wife, coming up toward me.
“Hold on,” she says. “Wait up.”
I stop walking and let her ca
tch me. “What?” I ask. “You here to tell me I shouldn’t have done that?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m here to apologize for my idiot husband. He’s just angry, like they all are.”
I sigh. “I know that, Sarah. This strike’s not easy.” I hesitate a second. “How’s Boone doing?”
“You know him,” she says, laughing. “He’ll be okay after some time off.” She eyes me for a second and sighs. “I believe you, okay, Samuel? And I know most of the guys do, too. Anybody that would ask after Boone after what happened in there is a decent man. Keep your head, okay?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Okay.”
She walks off and heads back inside. I go to my truck and slowly drive back home, but some of the anger’s slowly leaking out of me. I want to hate those bastards, but I can’t help but understand where they’re coming from.
My secret’s out now, at least. I don’t have to worry about them finding out that I’ve been fucking the enemy, since now they all know. If they want to replace me then fine, they’ll replace me. I’ll survive. I’ll keep fighting for them, however I can.
But if they don’t, I’m going to step up. I’m going to get everyone out of this mess, myself and Amelia included. As angry as I am at those guys back there, I still want Amelia, and I know I’m not going to back down anytime soon.
21
Amelia
“I heard about the strike.” Callie smiles at me over her coffee. “Bad luck, huh?”
I nod and sigh. “Really bad luck.”
“Everyone in town’s talking about it.” She leans closer. “Is it true that Samuel Carter nearly shot a guy outside your office?”
“Definitely not,” I say. “That was a misunderstanding.”
She must see something in my face, so she leans back and nods, her conspiratorial look vacating her face. I feel a little guilty, giving her my official response, but I can’t have her going around gossiping all over.
I like Callie a lot. Honestly, I needed to feel freaking normal for a little while. The last week’s been terrible. We’ve been negotiating every day, but Ingram doesn’t seem interested in getting anything done, and Samuel won’t sign off on that old contract anymore. He’s pushing for more and more concessions as the strike keeps going on and on, and Ingram just seems happier and happier with the situation.
I’m the only one that’s freaking out. I know my job’s on the line here. The board’s going to pull me, especially now after I told them that we had a contract ready already. I’ve been ignoring Neal’s calls, mostly because I can’t bear telling him that Samuel won’t sign off anymore, and we’re back to square one.
I don’t know why he’s been acting like this, but I can probably guess. It has a lot to do with that Callie says next.
“Everyone in town likes Samuel a lot, you know. I can’t blame you for liking him too.”
I almost groan. I’ve been getting looks at the office, and Ingram keeps making little comments. I figured the whole town knows by now, and that basically just confirms it. “Where’d you hear that?” I ask her.
She shrugs, looking coy. “Word gets around. Apparently there was talk about it at the last big union meeting.”
“You sure know a lot about the miners,” I say suspiciously.
“I started dating one recently,” she admits. “You know a guy named Mike Young?”
“The name sounds familiar,” I admit.
“Well, he told me about it. Samuel admitted it in the middle of the whole bar, after his friend Vernon stabbed him in the back and called him out for it. Apparently it was a huge thing.”
I bite my lip as she goes on, describing the scene. It’s probably an exaggerated story, but even if half of it’s true, that moment probably tore Samuel in half.
The idea that the miners wouldn’t trust him… I can’t even imagine. But now I understand why he’s been distant and strange toward me this last week. He’s trying to earn their trust and doesn’t want them thinking that he’s on my side or something like that. It’s absurd, almost silly, but I can understand it.
Even if it hurts. I miss him every day. I want what we had that night when we hid away from the world in his house. I want his smile, his lips, his hands on my back. And I want to tell him the truth.
But every time I feel like we’re taking one step closer, we have to move two steps back. And I know telling him about this baby will only make it worse. And so I keep holding it back, which is only making it worse, and so on and so on, driving me insane.
At least I feel a little normal sitting here with Callie. I steer her away from my relationship with Samuel, or my lack of one, and I get her talking about her Mike. They have such a simple, uncomplicated relationship where they go to movies and kiss on the porch. She doesn’t have to run a huge company, and she’s not falling for the guy that’s the head of her unionized workers.
Callie and I finish up after another hour, and we part ways. It’s a nice afternoon, so I go for a little walk around downtown. I try not to think about the whole town talking about my business, and instead just enjoy the sunshine, at least while it lasts.
Although as I drive back to my place, I can’t help but think about the mine. It was pitch black down there, dirty and dark and dangerous, and these miners are only fighting for the chance to go back in there. They want more money, more safety, more longterm guarantees. I don’t know how anyone can begrudge them that… except for a man like Ingram.
I pull up to my big house, but right away I notice something’s off. It takes me a second to recognize Samuel’s truck parked in my driveway. I pull up behind him and get out.
“Samuel?” I call out. He climbs out of his truck and faces me, a little frown on his face. “What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t answer right away. He glances back toward my house, toward the too-big house with its many windows and fancy door. “You’re alone here?” he asks me.
I sigh and nod. “Yeah. I’m alone here.
“Must be hard.”
“It is.” I cross my arms. “Are you just here to criticize my living conditions?”
He winces and I feel bad about that. “No. I’m here to talk business.”
“Well, come inside. The town’s already talking about us enough.”
He follows me in through the front door. “I should probably apologize for that,” he says as I lead him into the kitchen.
“Probably.”
He laughs softly. “I’m not going to, though. I’m not ashamed of it.”
I sigh. “Of course not. You’re such an ass sometimes.”
He just grins at me as we come into the kitchen. I offer him a drink and he accepts, taking the glass of whiskey from my hand. I don’t pour myself one, and he doesn’t comment on it or seem to notice that I never drink around him, or at all.
“What can I do for you?” I ask him.
“Two more of my guys got jumped yesterday,” he says.
I raise an eyebrow. “Are they okay?”
“They’re okay. Miners are tough bastards. But we can’t keep having this.”
“Ingram’s getting desperate.” I lean up against the counters. “That big order isn’t going to get filled on time.”
“No, it’s not. Has he talked about scabs yet?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t heard anything. The company has no plans to bring on contractors.”
He nods at that. “Good. Scabs would ruin this.”
“What?” I cock my head.
“All of it. Amelia, my guys are close to breaking. You have to do something.”
“Me?” I laugh a little. “You’re the one that won’t take the old contract anymore. If you gave me your okay, I could get it pushed through.”
“You know I can’t anymore. My guys don’t trust that shit. I gave too much up in that. I… I don’t know if I trust myself.”
I stare at him for a second. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” His gaze is level and steady, but
I see it again. That pain.
“You think you gave up concessions because... of me?”
He nods. “Probably. I don’t know. Maybe.” He drinks his whiskey, looking away.
“Samuel, I didn’t make you do that.” I feel a little angry, like he’s putting this on me, and it’s not. This isn’t entirely on me.
“Nobody made me do anything,” he says calmly.
“So why are you coming into my house and acting like I did?”
He clenches his jaw. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“No? Feels like it from here.” I cross my arms, getting annoyed. “You should have told me you were going to talk about our business in public like that.”
“I didn’t mean to do it at all,” he says. “Vernon called me out. It was a critical moment.”
“Still. Now I’m the talk of this town. I have to live here too, you know.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not responsible for a bunch of guys that are getting beaten up.”
“Actually, I am. I’m your employer, remember? Along with everyone else that’s involved with the company, and if you guys don’t get back to work soon, everyone’s going to get screwed. You do know that, right?”
“Oh, so now you’re on Ingram’s side?”
I glare at him and he glares right back. I feel so angry at him, although I know he’s not my enemy. I just don’t understand why he’s making this so difficult, when the resolution is right there. If only he’d just take that contract.
But I know nothing’s that simple. I have my own secrets.
He sighs and drinks his whiskey down. “I didn’t come here to argue, Amelia. I didn’t come here to beg, either.”
“Why’d you come, then?”
He looks exasperated. “I don’t know,” he admits.
I feel my anger flare up again. “Maybe you should figure that out.” I cross my arms and nod toward the door. “I think you should leave.”