She felt strong now that the pain had melted away, not so scared, so out of control.
“This is Dorothy and Carter Bolt, our parents. Sam’s parents.”
She stared at her visitors. Sam’s parents. In all the fuss with the nurse, she hadn’t noticed he’d moved to her side. Aware he’d placed his hand on her pillow, she glanced up and inhaled sharply. So much pain showed in his red-rimmed eyes. In too much of her own shock to have the energy to decode his expression or his feelings for her, she gave in and closed her own. It was safer to escape into sleep. Right now she felt too sick and overwhelmed to care.
* * * *
His family meant well, but Sam wished to hell they hadn’t come. He owed Liz his life, but he hadn’t wanted his parents involved.
When she shouted his name and then screamed, he knew she’d been shot. It should have been him. Tommy Kane should have just killed him.
His heart constricted. He wanted to hold her in his arms, to protect her, to love her. Taking a deep breath, he released it shakily, more shakily than he wanted.
A shuffling of feet reminded him everyone was still in the room. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been watching. “Liz, my folks are here to thank you, and then they’re leaving. Guys, she’s tired.” He gave them a look which begged them to leave quickly.
His mother hustled forward again. “Yes, we’ll let you rest, honey. We just wanted to meet you. We’ll talk to you another time when you’re feeling better. Then we’d like to have you over for dinner.”
“Mom,” he warned.
“Sam,” she said in the same warning tone and rewarded him with a glare.
He got the significance. No matter how he felt about it, his mother would do as she wanted. He’d have to have a talk with his family so they understood why he had to back away from Liz. They could have her over for dinner, but then that was it. No more contact. Not for any of them.
“Thank you, dear.” Dorothy kissed Liz on the cheek and patted her hand.
Carter added, “We’ll see you later. You get some rest now. Jeff, Petey, say good bye, and let’s go.”
Petey bounded back into the room. Her face relaxed, and she smiled at his younger brother. It warmed his heart that she was so sweet with Petey. Finally, everyone left, the only sounds the heart monitor and automatic blood pressure machine.
“I’m sorry about all that. They’re a little overwhelming when they’re all together. Thank you for putting up with them.” He hated his emotion clogged voice.
“It’s all right. They were nice.”
Her eyes closed in exhaustion, and she took a gentle breath. “I’ll see you soon, Liz,” he whispered. He couldn’t dump her when she was at her lowest point, and especially since she’d almost given her life for him. But he couldn’t give her any kind of a future.
Some day she’d realize it was for the best.
* * * *
Of course, her parents wouldn’t let Liz go home to recover. She wanted be alone. Over the course of three days in the hospital, she slowly remembered all that had happened. The bad guy had raised his gun to shoot Sam. She’d screamed a warning. The bad guy turned toward her, and shots rang out. She felt something burn through her shoulder and heard Sam shout her name. Whatever happened after that was still murky. All she knew for sure was the slug that hit her had hurt like the devil.
For two weeks, she’d been cosseted, fed, and driven to the doctor. Flowers from her friends littered the house, but now the last of them had died.
She missed working. She had to get back to the theater. What if they gave the part to someone else? And she really, really, really wanted to go home. Climbing her spiral stairs would be no problem, her shoulder not necessary for that. She’d sleep on the couch if she couldn’t get up the stairs. Everything she needed was on the main floor anyway. Bathroom, kitchen, TV, books, clothes.
Only one little problem. Sam had done it again—disappeared from her life. In the hospital, she vaguely remembered hearing his voice, hearing him say, “I love you.” The nurse told her he’d been waiting down the hall, he’d refused to leave the hospital, but she hadn’t seen him again until the day his parents visited.
Arghh. He makes me so mad.
Well, it’s over.
Whew. It felt good to get that decided. If he still lived next door, she’d move. It would be sad to leave her cute little house, but she’d do what she had to.
Finally, the doctor said she could go home but not back to work for another week. Her parents still worried, but she insisted.
Miranda, along with the baby, drove her home. Miry dusted and cleaned the place, then they ordered pizza and watched an old movie on AMC.
“Were you this frustrated with Tommy?” she asked Miry.
“Yeah. Sometimes.”
“He’s taken to married life and fatherhood very well, don’t you think?” Liz asked.
“Yeah. He’s a great father.” Miry thumbed the volume down on the remote and asked, “Do you really care for Sam?”
“Yes, I do. Did,” she amended. “He blames himself for his brother’s condition, and I understand that. But he won’t forgive himself. No one holds him responsible but himself. He won’t let me care for him, not really. Sex is wonderful. He’s passionate and loving, but he can’t seem to handle the emotional part.”
“Honey, as much as you want to fix him, you can’t,” Miry said. “You have to face the fact that he may never be able to be with you.”
What could she say to that? Under the circumstances, she certainly deserved something more from Sam than to be ignored. She rested her head tiredly on the back of the couch and sighed.
“If you want Tommy to talk to him…” Miry offered her husband’s services. “Man to man?”
“No!” she exclaimed, jerking upright, wincing and sucking in a breath at the pain in her shoulder.
“Liz, I’m sorry. Just lie down.” Miry helped her stretch on the couch. “Let me get you some pain medication.”
“Could you? I know I’ll be better by tomorrow. I just need some sleep in my own home.”
Miry kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll stop by tomorrow and see how you feel. Cryssie, kiss Aunt Liz goodbye.”
“Don’t worry about me. Bye bye, Cryssie. I love you.”
Alone at last, she nestled into the couch cushions. She’d go upstairs later. Right now, being in the bedroom with the view of…his apartment was too painful. Better not to look. Better not to think about him—right now anyway. But still, everything in her house held memories. When she felt stronger, maybe she’d move.
Chapter 21
“Honey, I can’t stand to see you like this,” Bailey said.
They shared a bottle of wine, ensconced comfortably on her couch. “What exactly do you mean?”
“Talk to me. Tell me all of it. You’re keeping it all inside, and it’s eating you up.”
“Being held hostage and being shot are kind of traumatic,” she said sarcastically.
“Yes, darling, I can imagine.”
“I tried to warn Sam, and I ended up being shot. Then he dumps me.”
Bailey nodded, urging her to continue.
“We had a wonderful time in New Orleans and great sex…” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “Shit.” She doubled over, her face buried in her hands. “I’ve tried to keep it together.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t keep it together. Face it and let it all out.”
“What’s there to face? I care for a man who can’t care back.”
“Why not? Do you know?”
She rested her head on the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling. “He’s tormented by something he did years ago that hurt his younger brother. He didn’t mean for it to happen.”
“Uh huh. There’s more to this than sex, isn’t there.”
“He can be so sweet and sexy.”
“What does he do that’s sweet?”
“I saw him downtown,” she said, waving her hand in the air in a dismissive gesture.
“With his brothers.”
“What was he like with them?”
She smiled. “Sweet. All the brothers were sweet. I spent some time with them in the toy store. Sam, Jeff, and his youngest brother, Petey. He’s brain damaged from a drug overdose.”
”He sounds like a nice guy. There’s more to him than you’ll admit. Have you talked to him about any of this?”
“No.”
“Maybe you should. Isn’t it possible he does have feelings for you?”
“Bailey.” Her hostility reared. “Haven’t you heard what I’ve been saying? He doesn’t want a permanent relationship.”
“Maybe the emotions were too much for him. Maybe he’s frightened of them.”
“He’s a cop.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s not afraid of relationships. Maybe you’re underestimating him. And yourself.”
“The point is he’s not interested in seeing me again.”
“Well, you wouldn’t know for sure…”
“Yes, yes, you’re saying I should talk to him. I get it.”
Bailey lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe you owe it to both of you.”
* * * *
Sam, as he did every day, went to the station. Still on desk duty, he sat there, answered the phone, did paperwork, transcribed other officers’ notes. He’d become a damned secretary. He’d seen Liz’s lights. It took all he had to stay away from her. If he moved, the temptation would be gone. Why didn’t he just find another place? Damned if he knew.
Lost in thought, shoulders slumped, he made notes with one hand, the other holding up his head which always felt too heavy these days. He finally noticed how quiet the squad room had become and realized someone stood in front of his desk.
“I’d like to report a crime.”
* * * *
Sam’s head snapped up. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Liz. Here in the station. He leaped to his feet so fast he almost knocked his chair over.
Good going, guy. Look as clumsy as a demented ox.
“Are you all right?” Fuck, she looked good. A gorgeous, sexy Liz right in front of him and the whole squad room. She wore a swishy, flowery skirt slung low on her hips. The hem of her tank top rode just above the waist of the skirt. Her high heeled sandals were barely held together with tiny straps. Damn. Her long hair flowed in soft waves around her face and shoulders.
Christ almighty.
He’d bet every guy in this place had a hard-on by now. He did. “Why are you glaring at me?”
Smart opening, jerk.
“That’s the first thing you can think of to say to me?”
He tried to delay the inevitable. “Where have you been?”
“I’m surprised you noticed.” she sniped.
“What does that mean?” His heart beat in rapid fire pounding.
“You disappeared! I didn’t.”
He lowered his head, rubbing the back of his aching neck. This sure wasn’t how he imagined it would be to see her again. He caught the gaze of the guy at the desk across from his.
Shit.
Then he glanced around the room. There wasn’t a pair of eyes not directed at them. Even his sergeant stood in the doorway of his cubicle.
“Shit.”
“Okay, I’m out of here. I don’t need this.”
She looked spitting mad. It had to have taken a lot of guts to come here. “Liz.” He reached for her. She’d already turned away and didn’t see his hand. “Liz,” he repeated, coming around his desk. Projecting a calm on the outside that didn’t translate to his insides, he grasped her hand and towed her toward an empty interview room. Making sure it didn’t have a two-way mirror and that the recording devices had been turned off, he closed the door behind them.
“Sit down.” He motioned to a chair.
“No.”
Stubborn witch. “Please?” he said.
She sat in the offered chair and said, “Can they,” she motioned toward the door, “hear us?”
“No, I made sure of that.” He sat in the chair next to her.
She shifted a few inches away.
He didn’t care for that message, but then why had she shown up here looking like every man’s wet dream? He didn’t think anything could be harder than having to talk to his family, but telling everything to this woman terrified him. “You look fantastic, Liz.”
“You know, now that I’m here, I’m not sure why.” She fidgeted, wouldn’t look at him.
“Why did you come, then?”
“I’d like to get some things straightened out once and for all.”
“Yes. Well…”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s going on with you? Is there something between us?”
He briefly met her eyes, then focused on the blank wall behind her. He talked. He paced around the table. No way could he tell the story and sit still. “I know you’ve guessed the truth about Petey.”
She didn’t say a word except for a sharp intake of breath and an ”oh” when he told her about Petey’s coma. Told her in detail about how, as a nineteen-year old college guy, he tracked down Dominguez who’d sold drugs to his fifteen-year old brother. How he’d beaten the asshole senseless. The only reason he’d stopped was that he heard sirens in the distance. Dominguez retaliated by overdosing Petey. “I thank God every day Petey came out of the coma, but now he’s brain damaged. God, I’m so sorry.” He sat down and thrust his fingers through his hair. Shaking his head, he added in raspy, broken voice, “I wanted to be a cop. Undercover. To get that son of a bitch.”
Tears trickled down her face. “Oh, Sam, it wasn’t your fault,” she snuffled.
“Yes, it was.”
She went to him and cradled his head against her breasts, running her fingers soothingly through his hair. “Dominguez was the bad guy. You tried to save Petey.”
“Then look what my actions caused. Dominguez broke into your house…almost…killing you.” He came to his feet and grabbed her shoulders. Strung out and exhausted, he squeezed them and exclaimed, his voice rough with pain, “What do I need to do to pound it into your head? You were shot because of me, damn it!”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she spat back, clasping his arms.
He shook his head in consternation. “I hurt my ex, too. She couldn’t hack being a cop’s wife. I don’t blame her.” Shrugging her off, he paced the narrow aisle around the table. He’d worked too fucking hard all these years to be unemotional. All his adult life, he’d had to hide his guilt and pain. I can’t do this. “I don’t want any more people I care about hurt because of me. If I hadn’t come to you after being shot, Dominguez never would have found you.”
“You care about me?”
He groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands. God, he was so tired, so defeated, so alone. “Christ, Liz, what’re you doing to me?” She was everything he wanted—feminine and sexy, sweet and passionate. His hard-on would be permanent.
“But you care about me?” she persisted.
“It doesn’t matter if I do…did, or not. My life is too dangerous.” His heart and mind were divided, but it mattered to him. That they were involved. That he’d never forget her. That every woman from now on would be a weak imitation of her.
“So, you’re just going to throw away what we have?”
“Had,” he said, inching his way around the table.
I don’t want to.
“You don’t trust me to be able to live with this? You don’t have enough faith in me?”
“It’s not that.”
Christ. Don’t weaken, man. Cut her loose.
“Then what is it?” She leaned over the table toward him.
He growled, his voice low, controlled, and husky. “It’s because I’ve never been able to have a decent relationship with any woman. I don’t deserve you.”
Why won’t she give up and go?
“What about what I deserve?” she retorted.
“You deserve better than me.”
But I want you.
; “Look what you’ve been through because of me, and now you’re here. You’re either completely stupid or completely I don’t know what. You deserve to be happy.”
“I was happy with you. Weren’t you happy?”
“Yes,” slipped out before he could stop it. “No! Would you just go? I don’t have anything to offer you.” He turned his back. He couldn’t look at her while he sent her away. He didn’t have that much courage. He heard the scrape of her chair, the rustle of her filmy skirt when she rose, the clicking tap of those sexy high heels.
“Sam,” her voice came from over at the door, clear and strong. “I’m in love with you. But I can’t talk you into loving me or taking a chance with me. Your story breaks my heart. Poor Petey. And poor Sam. Of course, I understand why you feel so guilty. It sounds like Petey had been on a free fall, and you did the only thing you could think of to help him. You didn’t overdose Petey, Dominguez did.
“I don’t blame you for what you did, and you shouldn’t punish yourself for the rest of your life by denying yourself love. I’m sure your family doesn’t want that. Do they know?”
“Yes.” He rigidly held onto his control.
“From the way they acted at the hospital, I’m positive they don’t blame you. You use this as a way to cut yourself off from people who care about you.”
“But I screw up every relationship I’ve ever had.” He couldn’t look at her. Every muscle and joint in his body ached with his unyielding determination to keep her out.
“And don’t write Petey off. Yes, he has problems…”
“For the rest of his life,” he finished bitterly.
“Sam, he’s a sweet, loving guy. He was so caring of me in the hospital. Give him credit. Don’t think of him as a lost cause in order to feed your guilt.”
“I don’t.”
“No? As long as you let the guilt rule your life, you won’t see Petey as a real person who has intelligence and love to give back to you.”
He had no response. Good God, she was right.
Quinn, Jane Leopold - Undercover Lover (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 16
