Page 47

~ SAM ~

With the possible exception of my first week in prison, the days that followed were the worst of my life.

Bridget didn’t come to Court. She didn’t have to since she’d already testified. My lawyers were pissed with me for not listening to them about the meeting with Jeremy, and preparing for him to bring charges.

I was utterly alone.

Each night I texted Bridget, and called the burner phone. But either she’d turned it off, or blocked me. It always went straight to voicemail. After the second day, I stopped leaving messages, but still sent texts, just in case.

I wanted to let her know I understood. She had a history of men manipulating her, or being violent. She needed time to calm down. But I made sure she knew I loved her and needed her too.

The thing I didn’t say was that I was pretty sure I was going to lose this fucking case and be put back in prison and I was freaking the fuck out. I didn’t know how I’d cope if I was locked up again and lost her, too.

I begged her to tell me if she was even getting my messages, but nothing.

I went to bed exhausted and woke up worse—if I slept at all .

I was falling apart.

Two days after that awful testimony when she left and everything went to shit was Friday.

After court that day, the lawyers took me aside and told me I’d been offered a plea agreement that reduced the amount of time I’d have to serve and they thought I should take it.

It was the final blow.

I barely spoke as they put a stack of papers in front of me, talked me through all the clauses and charges and what was important, then told me to take it home and read it and think about it over the weekend.

They told me to take the weekend to think about voluntarily going back to prison.

I’d been home for an hour and was waiting for a pizza delivery that I shouldn’t have indulged in, but I was so tired, I couldn’t even find the energy to make a sandwich.

Then the burner phone rang and I leaped off that couch so fast I tweaked my back.

I ran across to my desk and grabbed the phone—only to see an unknown number. But it didn’t matter. No one else had this number.

“Bridget? Thank God, I thought—”

“I heard you smacked the smug Fed.”

I froze, one hand gripping the back of my desk chair, I snapped straight, heart pounding.

Fucking Gordon.

No. No no no no.

“How did you get this number?” I growled. Stupid question. Gordon huffed.

I swallowed hard. “Why are you calling me?”

There was a creak from whatever bed or chair he was in, and a quiet beeping in the background. “I’ve been thinking about what you said when we talked. Decided I want to help her. But I need something from you first.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “What?”

He took a beat. I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him like I’d done to Jeremy. Do us all a favor. “I’m not playing your games, Gordon. If you didn’t already know, she knows I saw you and she’s convinced I’m working with you. I’m losing her because of you and frankly, you aren’t worth it. ”

“I want you to swear on your god or whatever that you’re going to protect her, because she’s going to need it, and I’m not gonna be around much longer,” he said gruffly.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and dropped into the desk chair. “Gordon, I don’t need your intimidation to be motivated to protect her. But there’s very little I can do from prison—”

“Give me your word you’d do what you need to do.”

I sighed. “You have my word: I’d die before letting her get hurt if I could stop it.”

He gave a deep exhale that fluttered in the mic on the phone. “I’ve been doing some digging about you. All of you. Who you were. Who you worked for. What you claim now—”

“Then you know I’m out. No more ties. I’m not using him to—”

“No one’s ever really out.”

“I am. If you’re looking for me to bring them in on this, you’re shit out of luck. I don’t do that anymore, Gordon.”

“Not even for her.”

“Especially not for her—men like that would eat her alive.” He didn’t respond and I couldn’t tell if he was agreeing or angry. “You said you want to help her?

“I do. But here’s the thing: She hates me, so I can’t get close. I need someone to be close to her that won’t trigger her.”

I sighed. “If you’ve got this number I’m guessing you also know that she’s currently furious with me for talking to you. She thinks I was working with you all along. She thinks I lied to her.”

“So, you’re out?”

“Not if I can help it,” I said honestly. “I’m never leaving, and I’ll always protect her if I can.”

He gave a skeptical huff. “Until your ass is on the line.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, Gordon, but my ass is already on the line.”

“Nah, your freedom’s on the line. But your ass? Everyone’s got balls until they’re staring down the barrel.”

“My balls are just fine.”

He chuckled, but it faded fast. “Would you come back here for her? All that shit you talked about doing what’s best for her even if it doesn’t help you. Would you do that? ”

Sam swallowed hard. “Yes. But I think she needs to let go of all this. I’m not going to make her keep showing up at prison and have no life because I don’t. I’m not going to control her, Gordon.”

“So you’d just let her wander out in that world? You know what the fuckers out there are like. If I’m gone and she’s lost my protection she’s going to need more than someone on the other side of the phone.”

“It’s not what I want. I’m being realistic,” I growled, rubbing my forehead because my head was starting to ache. “Besides, you want her looked after? Then leave her the fuck alone. You’re the one who’s going to take her from me because if she’s given up on me, it’s only a matter of time before she gives up on everything and gets herself killed. Literally.”

“You underestimate me,” he growled.

“No, Gordon, I don’t.”

“Better not, because if I give her to you and something happens to her, if you turn out to be the asshole here, I will hurt you. Even from this fucking bed.”

“You might want to turn that gun around, Gordon. She isn’t yours to give. You’re the one that fucked her up to begin with. I’ve been trying to fix the shit you broke. You expect me to listen to you about how to deal with her?”

“I expect you to make sure no one else fucks her up worse. Including you.”

I huffed. “Already tried and failed. Now she thinks I’m you.”

He stayed quiet for a while and I didn’t speak. I wasn’t going to make that easier for him. If he was getting close to dying he needed to know the truth about what he’d done to his daughter. And the price she was still paying—and I was too—because of the distrust and fear he’d spawned in her life.

“I hope you’re a man who knows yourself well, Sam. Lots of idiots here who talk a big game and fold under the pressure.”

“I don’t think you’d be having this conversation with me if you thought I was a coward.”

He grunted, but didn’t affirm me. And I was too tired to play games.

“So?” I said, letting him hear me losing my patience.

“So what? ”

“Are you going to help her? And if so, how?”

He didn’t answer right away again. I wasn’t going to play his games and was about to hang up the phone when he finally spoke.

“I haven’t decided. I’m gonna think about this conversation and make my decision.”

I shook my head and spat, “Asshole,” then ended the call.

But when I hung up, cursing, there was no satisfaction. No purpose. Nothing. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected from him, but it was just one more disappointment. One more power play by a manipulator who was feeling out of control and using us to get his kicks.

Then my eyes fell on the plea agreement papers. And something inside me broke.

I broke.