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“Let’s discuss it in the morning,” Baruti said. “With Zora, once we know who Oliver really is.”
Samuel wheeled on her again. “What were you thinking? Seriously, what?”
Jessica could only shrug. “It sounded urgent. I got swept up in the need to make an immediate decision.”
“I agreed with her,” Kelsey chimed in.
Samuel’s head whipped around and he glared at her. “I expected better from you.”
Jessica cringed as Kelsey took a menacing step forward. Baruti was quick to grab Kelsey’s shoulder.
“I think we should give them some privacy, yeah?” he said to Kelsey.
She glared at Samuel. “You’re a dick when you’re angry.”
With that, Kelsey spun on her heel and stalked into their room. Baruti glanced at Jessica and winked, then closed the adjoining door.
Well, shit.
She sat on the foot of the nearest bed and settled in. There wasn’t anything she could say. She’d made the wrong call. When that gun had pressed against her, she’d felt all the blood leave her body and knew this time she wouldn’t be so lucky. And here she’d come away without a scratch, but only because of Kelsey.
Samuel remained across the room from her, arms crossed over his chest again. “Why didn’t you call us for backup?”
She gripped handfuls of the comforter. “I didn’t think. There wasn’t much time. We just went.”
“Yeah? Look how that worked out for us.”
“I know. I was wrong,” she said and hunched her shoulders.
He was silent for a long moment.
She stared at the carpet, replaying those moments.
When she’d gotten the call, adrenaline had narrowed her focus. She must have the files. At any cost. And she’d forgotten about not only her safety, but that of her team. This wasn’t just about her. She could gamble with her life just fine, but not anyone else’s. Though in those moments when she’d thought Oliver might shoot her, she’d wanted to live. She’d wanted to kiss him again. To hug Robin.
What they were doing was important, but so was her life. Which left her at an impasse.
What did she do?
The rustling of Samuel’s clothing was the loudest sound in the room as he crossed to stand in front of her, then lowered to a knee. His gaze bored into her skull and his lips were pressed tightly together, as if he were holding back words.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asked, his tone gentler.
“No. Not at all.”
He laid his palms on her knees. His warmth penetrated the cold shell of shock still encasing her.
“What happened? Walk me through every moment?” he asked.
So she did. She walked him through each step, all her thoughts and feelings, the rationalizing process she’d taken to get to exactly where they were now.
“You did good. Real good,” he said when she was done.
“No, I fucked up.” Damn it. She was so mad at herself she was going to cry.
His hands traveled up her legs to her thighs. His body pressed against her knees until she parted for him. He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned against him.
“I was so stupid. I didn’t think it through. And I was scared. So scared. I’m sorry,” she said in a small, brittle voice that broke on every other word.