Fearless: Complicated Creatures Part Three (37 page)

“Rich people and parties,” Alejandro said under his breath.

But Hannah had ears like a bat. “I’ll have you know we raise about twenty million in one night each year, Alejandro, and that’s before Wyatt Petroleum triples the pledge.”

“Sorry, Hannah,” Alejandro mumbled, sipping from his water glass.

“So will you be at the luncheon?” Hannah turned her attention back to an erstwhile Samantha.

“I don’t really think you need me there…”

“Your presence will go a long way, Samantha,” she chided. “You know the Houston DAR opens all kinds of doors—not to mention pocketbooks – with the right kind of attention. It’ll be two hours of your time—three at most.”

“Sorry—who are the DAR?” Jack asked, curious.

“Daughters of the American Revolution,” Hannah replied. “They’re a women’s service organization dedicated to promoting historic preservation, education, and patriotism.”

“Some of the scariest women you’ll ever meet—” Carey added before his mother silenced him with a look.

“They’re not scary.”

“They kind of are, Mama. Especially a few glasses of Chardonnay in.”

Jack frowned. “Why?”

“Ignore him,” Hannah responded with a sigh. “He’s just mad because he’s on the hook to get another million pledged in less than a week.”

“It was a dirty trick,” Carey mumbled.

“I told you not to go to those DAR functions and drink,” Sam told him sagely. “You start trying to impress all those women, and the next thing you know you’re whipping out your checkbook.”

“I’ll whip out my checkbook,” Jack offered, seeing an opportunity to win more points with Hannah. “How much do you need?”

“A million—” Carey replied before Sam kicked him hard under the table. “Oww—Sammy, you’ve got boots on!” he cried, rubbing his shin.

“Jack, you only give if you feel comfortable,” Hannah told him.

“Oh, I feel comfortable.” Jack looked at Samantha. “If you want some moral support for the luncheon, I’d be happy to go with you,
tesoro
,” he offered with a smile. “I’m excellent at playing politics and exacting cash from donors. Just point me to the DAR you want me to charm.”

“Sorry, Jack, but this is ladies only, with the exception of the artists auctioning their work,” Hannah told him regretfully. “But you’re welcome to come to the gala next week. I don’t think Sammy has a date,” she added, her voice lowering conspiratorially.

“Lord,” Samantha muttered. “This isn’t happening.”

“I’d be honored to take you,
tesoro
,” Jack told her, ignoring her dark
I-will-make-you-suffer-for-this
look.

“Christ, now I’m going to have to get a tux,” Alejandro groaned beside him.

“So it’s decided then. I’ll escort Samantha,” Jack continued, pleased. “It works out perfectly, doesn’t it,
tesoro?
”

Jack wasn’t certain if it was because he’d worn her down or if she just didn’t have it in her to disappoint her aunt, but she didn’t argue with him… for once. Jack was more than willing to take it. Sometimes small wins led to big successes.

April—Late Evening

Wyatt Ranch, Texas

J A C K

A
few hours
later, Jack stood outside in the fields under a bright spring moon, gazing at a sea of stars. The deep-baked heat of the day had finally burned off and given way to a coolness that was filled with the scent of grass and earth and the mating calls of cicadas. He should have been preoccupied with what was going down with Lightner—and how to get his father to come to the table with the information Samantha wanted, but in the face of the magnificent Texas sky, it was all he could do to marvel at the seemingly depthless night. Jack was a city boy through and through. This was the closest he’d ever come to spending quality time in the country, and it was shocking. How profoundly different the sky above him looked, just a couple hours’ flight south of Chicago. It was almost like inhabiting a different world.

“You shouldn’t be out here, Jack.” Alejandro seemed to materialize next to him from the midnight darkness.

“Why not? Are there wolves or something?” Jack asked, glancing around at the quiet trees surrounding them, suddenly apprehensive.

“Something like that.” Alejandro laughed softly, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. “Jack, you’re surrounded by guys carrying semi-automatics and sub-machine guns. All they see is a tall guy they don’t know wearing all black and prowling around outside in the middle of the night. You’re lucky you’re still standing.”

Jack glanced down at his t-shirt and pants. “I’m wearing pajamas.”

“You look like you’re about to commit a heist.”

Jack looked around again, trying and failing to see the men Alejandro was referring to. He’d been walking around for a while, keyed up from the day, unable to sleep, unused to the quiet stillness and the eerie calm of being in the middle of literally nowhere.

“How many men are watching?”

“More than you want to know.” Alejandro lit a cigarette he pulled out of his shirt pocket. “Filthy habit,” he muttered roughly after a deep inhale, smoke curling back into his mouth. “I’m down to three or four a day, not that Wyatt makes it easy.”

Jack looked at him. “You two have a special kind of kinetic dislike. I can’t tell if you’re on the same team or trying to kill each other.”

“Bit of both,” Alejandro admitted, taking another deep drag.

“You going to tell me what you all have planned for Lightner?” Jack asked, switching subjects.

“My days of keeping you informed ended the moment Wyatt questioned my loyalty,” Alejandro answered flatly. “It’s best if you leave too, Jack. We weren’t kidding at dinner.”

Jack watched his profile in the dark. “Is Lightner in the States?”

“No, but if we don’t box him in with this next play, it won’t be good,” Alejandro told him, cryptic.

“Then where is he?” Jack pressed.

Alejandro gave him side-eye. “Not telling you that.”

“Jesus, de Soto—don’t be a dumb ass,” Jack replied, frustrated. “There’s the matter of the bounty I’ve put out, not to mention the dozens of Leviathan guys I can send to support whatever you and Sam have planned—”

“You always wander around in the dark like this?” Alejandro asked, diverting his attention.

Jack shrugged lightly, sliding his hands into the pockets of his lounge pants. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Alejandro finished his cigarette. “You jonesing?”

“No,” Jack replied, shaking his head. “Not for drugs anyway,” he admitted sheepishly.

“She can’t sleep either.”

Jack looked at the dark house. “How do you know?”

“I usually take in some tea right about now. Let her bitch at me a little bit. She’ll be up reading some boring-ass book, and her back will be hurting, so she’ll be restless.”

Jack frowned. “Shouldn’t she be taking something for that? A muscle relaxant or something?”

“You know she won’t,” Alejandro answered before looking at him. “You want to bring her the tea tonight?”

Jack considered him. “I thought you were all done doing me favors.”

Alejandro shrugged. “Maybe I’m doing myself the favor. Get a night off from her telling me to fuck off.”

Jack smiled slowly, warmth spreading through his chest. Maybe, just maybe, Samantha would let him take care of her for once. “I’d like that.”

“Hot water is on the stove. She’s upstairs. Last room on the right.”

“Thanks.”

Jack strode across the fields toward the house, walking straight into the kitchen, dimly lit by the light over the stove. He found what he needed, prepared a tray with two stoneware mugs and a teapot steeping with Valerian tea. He carried it upstairs, knocking lightly as he balanced the tray in one hand.

“Go away, de Soto,” came the muffled response.

Jack opened the door, surprising her. Samantha sat at the edge of a large four-poster bed, one hand holding onto a post as she gripped her back with the other, clearly in pain.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, the sharpness of her retort dimmed by a wince.

“Saving you from yourself,” Jack replied, placing the tray on a nearby chaise before moving toward her.

“I’m fine. I just have a cramp—it’ll go away in a second,” she gritted out, looking away from him. He could tell by the way her cheeks colored that she was mortified that he was seeing her like this.

Jack sat down beside her. “Let me help,” he offered gently. “You can go back to being angry with me in the morning, but right now—just let me help you.”

He slipped the back of her tank top up so that he could knead the muscles before she could stop him.

“
Don’t
—”

Jack looked down at the vicious, angry welt of the scar traversing her lower back like a hot red brand. “Jesus,” he breathed, bitter anger rising like bile even as his heart broke to see the damage she’d sustained. It looked like Nazar had taken a carving knife to her spine…

Samantha stiffened, going completely still as his fingers ghosted over the wound. She remained stone-faced and silent, enduring his scrutiny even as she gripped the quilt so hard her knuckles went white.

“It’s revolting, I know,” she protested. “I know how it looks—”

“
Tesoro,
” Jack whispered as he bent to touch the scar with his mouth. Samantha made a sound, somewhere between a cough and a sob as she turned away from him, trying to pull her tank top down, though he wouldn’t let her.

“Stop,
tesoro
.
Just
stop,” Jack countered, swiftly capturing her in his arms as she tried to squirm away. “You’ve been through hell and come out of it more times than I can imagine. Just let me take care of you for a little while. Just for tonight, please—”

She squirmed a moment, but didn’t deny him. Jack held her against him until she calmed, her head tucked into the warm space between his shoulder and his neck, her body slowing relaxing as he kneaded the muscles around her wound gently, working through the tension. Jack felt her relax after a few silent minutes of his ministrations, his touch tender yet unrelenting. He felt the tautness of her muscles eventually give way until her head lolled against his shoulder as she learned to trust him again.

After long, silent minutes, he heard her whisper, “It’s ugly. My scars were bad before, but this one…” her voice trailed off.

“You think you’re not beautiful anymore?” he asked her, hands cupping her back. “You think what you survived makes you somehow less amazing to me?” Jack touched her face, lifting her chin to look at him. “Where is the woman who is so completely kick-ass, she doesn’t give a damn what anyone else thinks?”

Samantha closed her eyes. “Who wants someone so disfigured, Jack? I’m a mess.”

The lover in him realized that she saw the vestige of her freshest wound as a disfigurement so heinous, he might not want her anymore, and that was preposterous, though he doubted she’d believe him if he said so. The sliver of hope Jack felt the moment he kissed her earlier bloomed into a ray of hot white light. Samantha would only worry about what he thought of her body if she still wanted him to love her. That was
never
at risk. Even when he’d tried to stop loving her, he couldn’t.

“So you have to give up that lingerie modeling contract. Big deal,” he teased, brushing her hair back.

A glint of humor flashed in her eyes. “Only in your fantasies do I make a living lounging around in my underwear.”

“Look, I’m not that torn up about it. If any other man looked at you wearing next to nothing, I’d tear his eyes out,” he admitted. “Can you imagine? I’d be arrested for blinding people at will.”

Samantha blinked hard and fast, uncharacteristic emotion seeming to overwhelm her. Jack held her tightly as Samantha released the first shuddering sob. It sounded like it had to fight to come out of her, like a bird frantically beating its wings against a cage. But once she released it, tapped the vein of her emotions, all the hurt and anguish came pouring out of her in juddering gasps. Jack held her tightly, wanting to weep with her for all the pain he felt her relinquish. He knew how tightly she controlled herself. Guessed she’d denied herself the necessary comfort of simply experiencing the sadness before it enveloped her like a wave, dragging her under. Her cries were so jagged, so hard-fought, she could hardly breathe.

“It’s okay,
tesoro
. It’s alright now. Everything will be alright…” he whispered again and again, smoothing his hand down her back as he clasped her tightly, feeling her cries wrack her vulnerable frame and reverberate through his own heart. “I’m here. You’re not alone—
never alone
—just breathe, baby…”

Jack picked Samantha up, carrying her to the center of the bed where he laid them both down. He wound himself around her, securing her in his arms, surrounding her with the protection of his body as she laid down the fight, her distress—all the loneliness and despair she’d held so close to her heart for far too long. It was as if an old wound in her soul ripped open anew, the blood fresh in her plangent cries. Jack could almost taste the copper—just like he could feel the steel in her—the mettle she was made of.