by Lisa Lace
There was some grumbling from the room, and then a disheveled-looking woman wearing a man's shirt opened the door. Sam averted her eyes. Farrell sat up in the bed. He was shirtless, smoking something, and looked satisfied.
"Sary?" He frowned, trying to remember her name. "Sorla?" The woman frowned. "Whatever your name is, sweetie, can you go upstairs now and get yourself something to eat?"
She gave him a deadly glare, but he wasn't paying attention to her anymore.
"Jori! What are you doing here?" he said. He forgot the presence of the nameless woman just like he forgot her name. She stomped away angrily.
"Hey Farrell," I said. "Sorry to walk in on you, man. How do you find these girls who are screaming all the time?"
"Because I'm an animal in bed," he said, smiling smugly at me. "It looks like your taste in women is improving."
He looked Sam over and ran his tongue over his lips. Sam looked disgusted. I wished she was able to hide her emotions more completely, although seeing her reaction made me happy.
"I have a great idea. Want to trade?" he asked.
Samantha made a snort and looked outraged. I put a hand on her arm to reassure her. I would never trade her. From now on, I would be the only male to place his hands on her. A small voice in my head said that if I wanted her to be mine, eventually I would need to be truthful with her and tell her my feelings.
"I don't think so. That doesn't sound like a great idea to me," I said. I felt my expression change, and I knew I didn't look as friendly as before.
He raised his eyebrows and took another puff.
"Is it like that? Fair enough," he said. There was a time not long ago when I would have jumped at the thought of having a new woman in my bed. In the past, we had exchanged often enough for his suggestion to be reasonable. The girls had been willing of course; the women we had hung out with during those years had been free spirits.
Sam deserved better than this, and the mere insinuation was making my ears burn. It was time to get to the point and get out of here. Either he'd help us or he wouldn't.
"Why are you here, Jori? It's not for old time's sake."
"I need your help," I said.
"Of course you do. But what precisely do you need?"
"I want to know where Harrington's holding his next shipment of children."
His face got a look I had seen many times when he was dealing or playing cards. It was his poker face, and it completely hid what he was thinking and feeling.
"What makes you think I know anything about it?"
I was a decent poker player myself, and I had won my fair share of games against him. He would give something away. He always did.
"You know everything," I pointed out. "I am aware he's holding a shipment and waiting for the chance to get them off-planet. I need to know where it is."
"Why?" he said, his eyes piercing my soul. "So you can run off and play hero to get the bad guy? You've been the same ever since you went into the..."
I held up my hand. He rolled his eyes but didn't finish his sentence out of respect for me. Farrell knew about my work with the secret service. They had recruited him as well. Unlike me, he rejected them.
"Ever since then, you've been trying to redeem yourself. You're never going to catch up to Nathaniel, you know. He's too perfect."
"You don't know anything about it."
"Even if I had this information, why would I freely give it to you?"
If he didn't know, he could always find out. My job was to convince him. Sam stood silently beside me watching everything.
"I want out," I said, deciding to tell him the truth. "This is my last job, and then I'm done. It's emotionally draining. I have to stop him. I know what it's like to have your parents taken from you."
He shook his head, and my heart sank. "Not this time, Jori. That's not good enough."
I nodded and turned away from him, feeling defeated. He held all the cards. If he weren't in the mood to tell me, he wouldn't. There was no use arguing.
"What?" Sam said. "We're just leaving?"
"He's not going to tell us anything."
She closed in on him before I could stop her. "Is this a fucking game to you?" she said, stalking over to the bed.
Farrell stared at her in fascination as she tore into him. "You lie there like royalty in your bed and make pronouncements. These are children's lives. Who do you think you are? Why would you stop someone who wants to help them?"
"Sweetie, you need to calm down," he said in apparent amusement. His condescending attitude only made Sam angrier. I didn't think he would be smiling for much longer. I had never seen this side of Sam before, but I should have known it existed.
"Calm down?" she said, raising her voice louder than before. "Other people are depending on Jori. If you're sitting here on your fat ass holding him back, I will not calm down."
"I'm not a bad guy," he began.
"No one think's they're bad, but I get the feeling that you mean well. That only makes your actions more reprehensible. All it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing. The least you could do is give someone your information so they can take action. It costs you nothing to tell us, but you won't. You're a weakling hiding behind your money."
"Hold on a minute," Farrell said. Her last shot had hit too close to home, and he began to frown. "That's uncalled for."
Sam was still talking.
"Don't you miss your mother?" she said. Her voice was a whisper now, and her eyes full of compassion.
Farrell froze. "How do you know I lost my mother?" he said.
"If you hadn't," she said. "You wouldn't be sitting here in your big house with its secret rooms, fucking a woman whose name you don't know and stopping a good man from rescuing children torn away from their parents."
They stared at each other.
"You're right, Jori. Let's go. He isn't going to tell us anything. He's nothing but a coward." She turned back and delivered a final blow. "It's a good thing your mother can't see what you've become."
I tried to play it cool but honestly, I was shocked. I knew she had a feisty side, but this was beyond what I had imagined. She radiated raw power; she was all woman, and to tell the truth, it was turning me on.
I gave Farrell a cold glare and took her hand, leaving without saying another word to my old friend. Sam had said enough for the both of us. She had been eerily accurate about Farrell.
When we reached the stairs and started to climb, we heard footsteps running down the hall behind us.
"Wait," Farrell said to Sam, stretching out his hand to stop her. "You're right. I'll tell you what you want to know."
Chapter Seventeen
SAMANTHA
Jori's 'friend' was an asshole.
After I had told him his mother would be proud he'd made the right decision, he looked a little happier. I hoped I would never have to see him again.
"That was incredible," Jori said. He sounded impressed.
Why would he be impressed?
"What do you mean?" I asked. I frowned as I tried to zip up my hoodie. We had left Farrell's house and were walking back to the hotel. It was freezing. My zipper was stuck, and I fiddled with it without looking up.
"To be specific, you were amazing," he said. Something in his tone made me want to see his face. I stopped playing with my jacket and gazed up at him. I saw the same person who was with me on the island. There was no mask and no acting. I only saw Jori.
"Look who decided to show himself," I said. I felt angry and scared. I had just finished verbally assaulting a guy who might have been an alien drug lord or something. I hadn't expected Farrell actually to give in.
Jori looked around and pulled me into a nearby park. He led me to a tree and began whispering.
"Harrington has surveillance everywhere. I am supposed to maintain my cover until we catch him."
Someone walked by and he pulled me in roughly, kissing me until my toes curled. When the passerby left us, he released me and I sta
red at him.
"Stop messing with my head, Jori. You're just making excuses," I whispered back. "Why are you like this?"
"What do you want me to say, Sam?" he whispered angrily. I could tell he wanted to raise his voice, but he didn't dare. "Do you want me to tell you I'm head over heels for you? Do you want me to say I want to spend the rest of my life with you?"
His revelation blew me away, but he went on whispering.
"What if I tell you those things and then my job swallows me? Do you want me to make you think we have something and then disappear because something went wrong? Do you?" he said, his green eyes demanding a response from me.
I shook my head, unable to speak. Could that happen? My blood ran cold at the thought.
"I don't think that's fair to you. I'm sorry that I'm not free to tell you absolutely everything because I would if I could. I'm sorry I give you confusing responses. But this is me, and this is my life."
He looked more upset than I had ever seen him before.
"There's nothing that I'm more sorry about than what I'm doing to you," he said so softly that I could barely hear him.
He dropped his eyes and turned away from me, his shoulders drooping with dejection. I watched him, wondering what this meant. Because it sounded like we were in love with each other, and we couldn't be together because he was a secret agent. Great.
I followed him out of the park, aching to hold him but knowing that I might never get the chance again.
Farrell's location ended up being a big warehouse. As we approached it, we created an action plan.
"I'll just see how the situation appears. I'm not going to make any attempt to get the kids right now. If I get confirmation they're here, then I'll set something up with my superior. I've activated my tracker so that if anything happens to me, you'll know where I am. It will record what I hear. I might be able to get some evidence against Harrington. You should go home, Sam."
"You're sending me away?" I asked, confused.
"Back to the hotel, whatever. I guess it's not like we have a home together."
His words stung, but I let the comment pass. "I'm not leaving you," I said. I tried to make my voice firm.
He looked annoyed. I thought I saw a glimmer of worry in his eyes. "Sam, you're an untrained civilian. It's a bad idea for you to come into a dangerous situation with me."
"What if you need help? You'll be by yourself."
He didn't waver at all when I expressed my concern. He shook his head at me.
"Or what if Harrington sends someone to grab your unprotected wife? I'll need help. You won't be around."
That made him question himself.
"We'll stick together. I won't get in your way. If either one of us needs help, we can give the other a hand," I said.
I was prepared to do whatever it took to prevent his job from consuming his life again. I needed him. I wasn't going to let him disappear on me.
"Sam, I didn't mean that I would literally disappear. That's unlikely to happen."
"Are you telling me you can't be kidnapped or killed in action?"
"Of course I can't tell you that."
"Then I'm coming with you," I said, trying to sound like it was a done deal. "You saw me back there with Farrell. I have skills."
"You have a point," he said. "Fine, you can come with me. At the first sign of trouble, you have to go and save yourself. And I'm only letting you come because it's not an assignment, we're just doing a bit of reconnaissance."
I nodded. Fair enough.
"Let's get in there," he said, walking away from the big warehouse.
"Where are you going?" I said, following him back down the street.
He ducked into an alley and leaned over, lifting a round manhole cover.
"That does not look pleasant," I said, fear twisting my guts.
"Get in, Sam. You wanted to come with me, didn't you?" he said innocently.
I wanted to grind my teeth together or smack him or both. But he was right. Did I want to go with him or not? Just because we had to go in through a small, dark hole in the ground shouldn't stop me.
"You can go home now," he said. "I wouldn't think less of you."
How could I go home after that? He wouldn't think less of me, but he wouldn't think more of me, either. If I could do this, maybe I wouldn't seem like poor white trash to him anymore. Maybe what really was holding him back from being with me wasn't his job. Maybe it was his aversion to low-class, poor people.
I hoped he didn't still think that about me. I was so bewildered by all his lies at this point that I wasn't sure about anything. Most of the deception was not directed at me, but it was still confusing. It was hard to know what was real and what wasn't. He was authentic during our time together on the island. I was certain of that, at least. But the island was becoming a distant memory.
I stared at the black hole in the ground and tried to swallow my fear. I had always been nervous about going into small spaces. One summer, there had been construction work on our street. I wasn't careful and fell into a hole.
It seemed like I was trapped in there forever until someone heard my desperate screams and pulled me out. Since then I've had a fear, bordering on a phobia, of enclosed spaces. When I had to crawl through a hole in the ground to escape Harrington's men, it hadn't helped. If anything, it amplified the fear.
Jori's laughing smile fell from his face.
"Sam, seriously. You don't have to do this. Don't worry about me. I'll be okay. I'll be home in a couple of hours. Hey," he said, lifting my chin so I was forced to look at him and couldn't stare into the manhole any longer. "You don't have to prove anything. Not to me."
I felt my heart swoon. I was falling for Jori, and I couldn't seem to stop myself, especially when he said sweet things like that.
"But I have to go, Samantha."
"No." That got me out of my trance. "Don't leave me."
"I won't leave you, Sammy." He stared into my eyes now and held both my hands. "Ever. Not if I can help it."
I felt like I couldn't breathe. He kissed me softly on the lips. Then he nodded at me and let go of one of my hands.
"I'll hold your hand. I'll be right here. It's bigger than it looks once you get down there."
I nodded, scared out of my mind and unable to think. Jori wouldn't let me go. That's all that mattered. I sat down on the edge of the hole with my legs dangling down into the blackness. The fear rose up and threatened to suffocate me but I focused on the feeling of Jori's hand in mine, and I jumped.
I landed with a crunch. I couldn't see how far down it was and collapsed when one of my ankles gave out. I scrambled to my feet immediately even though my ankle was hurting. I didn't know what might be on the ground.
An instant later, Jori's powerful form dropped down beside me. He had a flashlight on his wrist, and he shone it around, looking for me.
"Sam? Are you okay?" he said when he reached me.
"I'm fine." I tried to breathe slowly and deeply. It wasn't working. Taking shallow gasping breaths was the only way I could get air into my lungs.
"You're not okay. I'm going to lift you out of here. You can't come with me. I want you with me, but you're frightened. You won't be able to help me if you're panicking."
I knew he was right. At that moment, we heard voices in the street. Jori checked his computer.
"I'm sure they are Harrington's men. We have some of them bugged so we can track their locations. You have to come with me now, Sam."
I nodded quickly. I needed to pull myself together.
He took out a gun. The sight of the weapon scared me more than being underground. We proceeded into the darkness.
The tunnel system that crisscrossed the city was part of the first Vandwan monarchy's emergency escape route. Engineers reappropriated them in modern times and used them as fire exits for all the buildings in the district. Vandwans built this city on natural land. Jori had told me a bit about the history at lunch.
We climbed out. It
had been a short walk to the warehouse, but it took us hours to search it completely.
"This is the last storeroom," Jori said, shining his light in a small window. "They must be in here."
For my part, I was glad it was the final one. I knew it was wrong, but I almost hoped we didn't find anyone. I was exhausted and wanted to go back to the hotel, lie down beside Jori, and sleep.
How selfish was that?
He picked the lock again, just like he had for the last fifteen rooms, and opened the door quietly. He swept the beam of his flashlight around the small room. We didn't see anything. He went in, and I followed to help him search. We looked in every nook and cranny where a child could hide.
Nothing.
Jori couldn't believe it. "They're not here. Farrell lied to us."
"He may have made a mistake," I said.
"Farrell's never wrong," Jori said. "We're missing something."
"Why aren't they guarded if they're here? Who's watching these children?" I asked. The complete absence of people had bothered me as soon as we arrived. Why weren't there a bunch of guards to stop us? For all we could tell, we were in an empty warehouse.
"What if this building is like Farrell's house and has a private, concealed section?"
"If that were the case, the outside wouldn't match up with the inside," I said. I closed my eyes to picture the length of the building from the exterior. I stepped out of the storeroom back into the open main room filled with enormous shelving. I estimated the dimensions of the room and Jori was doing the same thing.
"It's definitely shorter," he said. "Do you agree?"
I nodded. It was.
We explored the north wall, pushing at all the bolts, running our hands along the beams, searching for some way to release a latch or reveal a door. I wasn't tired any longer. Now we had an idea of where to look. But when we had searched all along the massive wall, and we hadn't found anything, I became discouraged again.
"If you were hiding children in a secret space in a warehouse..." Jori said, pacing back and forth.
God, he was handsome. I tried to keep my mind on what he was saying.
