Unraveling

by Kelley Griffin

  Steve smiled devilishly and with that he jogged out the door and to the right.

  Chapter Five

  Absentmindedly, she shuffled the cards and thought about what he’d said. Was Scar bright enough to be the leader? Maybe. He had the look and disposition of a ruthless leader. What about Todd? Was he strong enough to lead in Saul’s absence? To rule over Scar?

  If not, she had a new enemy. Someone who wanted her dead enough to blow up a hospital. And what shipment? He’d deviated from the phone call quickly, like he didn’t want her to ask questions.

  Her mind spun and unraveled like circles of curly ribbon falling to the floor. Kirin yawned big. She needed to check her own chart. Whatever medications she was on were making her sleepy.

  Her heavy eyelids closed for only a second, or so she thought.

  Several minutes passed when she woke to Sam stomping into the room after having spoken to the man outside. His face was tight and pink like he was angry, but his plastered smile tried to hide it.

  “So, you had a visitor?” He tossed his jacket on the back of the chair Steve had just occupied. His voice was agitated and tight.

  It only took a few seconds for all her drowsiness to seep out leaving anger and adrenaline in its wake.

  “I did,” She retorted, just as harsh, glaring right back at him.

  “What did he tell you?” Sam said, watching her. He pulled the chair out and sat.

  “The truth,” she fired back, “which is more than I can say for you.”

  Sam looked stunned but kept his poker face. “Stories, Kirin, that’s all they are—stories. We don’t know for sure. So, I’m taking every precaution. I’ve got friends standing guard while I’m not here. They’re supposed to keep you safe and keep everyone else out, but obviously, that’s not working.”

  “Why do you believe you need to keep me in the dark to protect me?” Kirin pushed herself higher in the bed and crisscrossed her legs. She ignored the stab of pain in her side. “There will be a time, very soon Sam Neal when you won’t be around. And unless you’re honest with me, I won’t be able to defend myself.”

  “Oh really? Where am I going?” he said sarcastically.

  She sucked in a long breath. It was time. “I don’t know, you tell me. Let’s ask this question again and see if you tell me the truth this time. Where were you when I fell at the windowsill, Sam? Or maybe a better question is who were you with?”

  His poker face failed him this time. Those handsome features and beautiful green eyes she’d once adored stared at her in disbelief. Since he didn’t speak, she lowered her voice to a whisper and continued.

  “I saw you. With her. I saw you with your lips wrapped around some whore. Some crazy man calls and says to look out the window, so I do and...”

  Sam interrupted and stood. “What crazy man? Who called?”

  “I don’t know. All I know is he sounded like Saul.”

  Sam’s face scrunched up with anger, but his body pitched forward in defeat. He straightened, took a few steps and stopped at the window, running his hands through his hair.

  “Well, it begins,” he said quietly to himself.

  She glared at the back of his head, willing herself not to cry. She wanted to scream. Anger and resentment raced each other in circles in her mind. She’d prayed a silent prayer that it wasn’t true. Hoped beyond hope that it was just a misunderstanding. It was like she was standing outside of herself watching it unfold.

  When he offered no explanation, she once again pushed herself higher in the bed. Wincing a little she took a deep breath and asked the question she most wanted, and yet didn’t want, to know.

  “Who is she? And please ... don’t lie to me.”

  Still facing the window, he hesitated for a moment and then finally said, “My past. She’s part of my past.”

  An ex-lover? Or someone he’d protected and fell in love with? Her heart was firmly waiting in her stomach. She’d have to push to get answers.

  “So, you’re having an affair with her?” Kirin asked, keeping her voice surprisingly even, except her breath hitched in her throat speaking the words. This was more painful than the blast would ever be.

  He laughed, turning toward her and in an angry tone he shook his head saying, “Don’t be ridiculous, Kirin. No.”

  She folded her good arm into the one in the sling, across her chest. Rage engulfed her. She wanted him and his lies to be gone. Hot anger threatened to spilled over the edge.

  “I saw you!” She yelled, flailing her one good arm, “With her...touching her in a way that didn’t suggest friendship. Kissing her deep and holding her hand way too long...laughing and jogging back toward her. Closing her door and leaning into the car. Are you telling me I dreamed it?” She didn’t care that the entire floor was probably listening. Sam calmly walked over and shut the door, saying nothing in his defense.

  Kirin continued, “Is that what you want? A long-legged, dark haired, convertible driving wench? Then go. Please. You lied about where you were, lied about the flowers and have probably lied about a dozen other things...I’m done.” The tears betrayed her and fell.

  Through her tears, she watched him. He turned to face her and walked to the foot of her bed. His face was tight and angry still, but his eyes held sadness. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

  She was terrified he would walk around the bed and try to hug her, but even more terrified that he wouldn’t. She felt betrayed, cheated on. She could feel these emotions as if they’d been painted on her. His silence spoke volumes. She assumed he didn’t want her but didn’t want to hurt her, either. In the silence between them, she gave up. She took her life mentally back to the time before he entered it.

  Take his clothes and shoes out of her closet...his stupid, ugly recliner can go back to his cabin, his four-wheeler, his boots on the back porch, his coffee mugs and anything else that reminded her of him. She’d have to launder everything to get that intoxicating smell out of her sheets or she’d end up a hermit, doing nothing except lying in bed inhaling. She’d work more, maybe take the kids on a vacation and do more things with friends...

  And then it hit her... One of her best friends couldn’t speak and the other wouldn’t speak. She wiped her eyes with her good hand.

  “Do you love her?” Kirin asked, her voice cracking on the last word.

  He watched her carefully. She searched his face for any emotion when he spoke of the other woman but saw none.

  Very matter-of-factly he answered, “I thought I did once, a long time ago, but no. I cared about her—about what happened to her...but no, I didn’t love her.” He stared at her. His tired, pleading eyes meeting her hurt ones. She blinked the tears out of her eyes and looked away. She couldn’t take it. Hot tears were set free, running down both cheeks, and she wrapped her good arm around herself. She felt stupid and vulnerable.

  When she did, Sam walked back over and stood behind the chair. His white knuckles gripped the back of the chair like he was squeezing it to keep himself upright. He was too close. She shot him a look of warning, she did not want him closer, she’d explode.

  His face turned hard and angry, yet sad. “You need to rest, Kirin.”

  “No! No, I don’t,” she yelled. She swallowed a lump and continued, “I think you need to leave.”

  Sam sat in the chair with a thud and leaned forward. Her entire body stiffened.

  “Why?” he said incredulously.

  She took a deep breath trying to convey the depths of her pain. “I don’t want to be with someone who lies or can’t tell me the truth. I don’t trust you anymore.” She watched him shrink back into the chair like he’d been slapped but continued. “The person you’re supposed to love is sitting in a hospital bed and you’re kissing another woman.”

  He winced, and his face turned red. Somehow his anger made her feel better.

  She continued, “You refuse to tell me what you did in The Club... I don’t know if you were a thug, a money man, a pimped-out prostitute or a h
ired killer. Your only excuse is that she’s “from your past,” which tells me nothing. I don’t know if you had a physical relationship with her or even why you’re meeting in a hospital parking lot. I feel like a fool. I’m hurt and angry and I want you to leave. I don’t need your mob friends outside keeping me oblivious in here, while you’re on the outside doing whomever...”

  “Go away,” she said quietly, turning away from him.

  Sam stood so quick it caused his chair to squeal as it kicked back behind him.

  “You can’t be serious!” Sam balled up his fists. “Kirin, you want to end what we have based upon a chance encounter of walking a woman—an acquaintance—to her car? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? Don’t you love me? Do the last six months mean nothing to you?” He continued, pacing. “The kiss—was something I was forced to do—I know it sounds crazy to you, but it was to keep you safe. The voice on the other end of your phone call, did exactly what he set out to do. He put doubt in your mind about me.”

  Sam stepped toward her and placed both hands flat on the bed next to her. He leaned in close to her face, speaking softer but still just as passionately.

  “Don’t you think I get jealous when Steve calls you or texts you when I’m not home? Then he waits until I’m gone and runs up here to sit with you?”

  Sam sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed her left hand before she could yank it away and pulling it to his mouth he kissed it. “Kirin, please, please don’t do this.” He whispered into her hand between kisses. “Don’t give up on us. We’re going to have to be strong to get through this...I can’t lose you.”

  Sam sighed heavily, “I’ll tell you anything you want to know—just don’t leave me.”

  Before she could answer, the door swung open and one of the elderly kitchen ladies wheeled her dinner into the room, smiling.

  Kirin wiped her eyes. The woman had to be in her seventies, with kind blue eyes and short grey hair. She moved with a slowness that made you want to help, but with a fierce grip that said she wouldn’t want it. She had no idea she’d stepped in the middle of their quarrel.

  Sam blinked then moved to get out of her way. She smiled at Kirin with kind eyes and tucked a piece of her short grey hair around her ear. Setting the food tray down, she struggled with raising the table above the bed. The little woman pushed, pulled and tugged but it wouldn’t budge.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with this one. It must be broken.” Sam stood and tried to help as well but the table wouldn’t move.

  “It’s fine.” Kirin’s tone was as kind as her impatient mind could manage. “We can fix it later, don’t worry.”

  The kitchen lady wasn’t taking the hint. She was on a mission to find the problem. Sam squatted down under the tray table to see what the malfunction could be. He lifted the table and placed it on its side on the ground. The underside of the table was exposed.

  Kirin and the woman spotted the problem at the same time. A small black box was fastened to the underneath at the point where the tabletop and the base came together. It caused the lowering mechanism to stick. Kirin reached over to touch it and pulled it off. It looked to be a transmitter of some type.

  Sam snatched it out of her hands, red faced and angry he stomped toward the hallway, growling back over his shoulder he added, “It should work now.”

  The kind woman extended the table over Kirin’s lap, then lifted the tray of food and placed it in front of Kirin.

  “Wonder what that box was?” she said as she idly straightened up the covers around Kirin’s feet.

  “I don’t know.” Kirin answered honestly. But she’d bet Sam knew.

  The grey headed woman patted Kirin’s leg, then shuffled out the door. As soon as she cleared the door, Sam stomped back in with the man who’d argued with Steve hot on his heels. The two men methodically looked under every hard surface, sweeping the room for any more devices. Both men were silent. Kirin wondered if it’d been planted by the mob or someone else. Either way, someone had either been in her room while she was out, or while she was wide awake.

  When the lookout man stomped back to his post, Sam slumped down hard in the chair and ran his hands through his hair again. He looked tired and defeated.

  Sam took a deep breath and pointed toward her food. “I got a story—you gonna eat? I’m not doing this unless you eat.”

  She took the lid off her food, grabbed the warm buttered roll, and shoved a huge bite into her mouth.

  The corners of his mouth crept up and he continued, “When I was sixteen, my father was a mechanic. We were poor. He worked long hours but had a dream of opening his own shop someday. One day, a prominent man drove up in a flashy Mercedes needing an on the spot repair. My father moved faster than I’d ever seen and fixed the car quickly, just as the man asked. The man hired my dad to help him with a project or two.”

  Sam stared off in the distance, “My dad was big and strong and...” Sam hesitated, “intimidating.”

  “My mom wasn’t a fan of this side job, but when the money started gushing in she conveniently forgot. He used my dad’s size to intimidate others to get what he wanted. Then, the man turned his attention to me.”

  Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat and his eyes popped up to hers, expectantly. She hadn’t realized she held her breath and had forgotten to chew. She chewed and swallowed the bite then raised her fork and stabbed a giant bite of green beans. Sam’s shoulders lowered, and he stared back at his knotted fingers.

  He continued, “I was your typical outdoorsy sixteen-year-old boy; tanned skin, muscles starting to develop, looking more like a man than a kid.

  “He didn’t want me to be an intimidator like my dad, but the man had other plans for a me. I was a flirt in high school like my mom. The man wanted to take me out and buy me new clothes—a gift he’d said, for my father’s allegiance.

  “My mother flat out refused, but my father was easily influenced. Saul owned an old ’67 Mustang and had it delivered to our door. It was the car of my father’s dreams. He longed to restore it. The antique car was baby blue, hard top and fully restored except for the engine work, which my dad was itching to get cracking on.

  “My father threw me the keys to his old pickup and told me to meet the man at the restaurant he owned.” Sam sat back, crossed his legs, and gazed out the window.

  Kirin grabbed a bite of potatoes and tried not to make a sound. He was in the zone and finally trusting her with facts about his life in the mob. Her heart was beating fast and loud. She was afraid he’d hear it and get distracted. She closed her eyes and concentrated on slow breaths. He began speaking again as if she wasn’t in the room.

  “When I got to the restaurant, there was a waitress about my age. A pretty girl with long dark hair and God, was she tall. Not taller than me, but still tall for a girl. She had dark eyes and flirted with all her tables. My father had instructed me to go in and order food. He’d even slipped me a $20 with the keys, and that never happened. The girl sauntered over, flashed me a smile and proceeded to tell me that “they” had us both by the balls.

  “I’d never heard a girl talk like that. According to her, we’d both been recruited for the same job. She was family and I was an outsider, but Saul had seen the same skill set in both of us. We could both coerce and convince others using humor, wit, flirting or whatever it took to get what he wanted. Saul needed attractive, young, assertive people on his team to help convince others when strong arming them wouldn’t work.” Sam fidgeted in his chair.

  “Naively, I thought it would be harmless flirting and getting paid. I was sixteen and she was fifteen. We agreed this was the greatest job and it sure beat waiting tables for her and working as a mechanic’s assistant for me. We both got new clothes and started talking every day, she was just like talking to one of the guys. She was tough, and she smoked and cursed all the time.

  “She’d already experienced things I hadn’t. She was forceful and worldly, and although she could charm the pants right off anyone�
��there was this other side to her. She had an inhuman ability to argue just about any point and win. Everything was a mental contest with her, and she never conceded.”

  Kirin had long since stopped eating. Tears raced down her cheeks listening to Sam speak passionately about this girl who was obviously his first love.

  She could see the signs. She’d seen enough Hallmark movies. The two of them were in love and had been separated by some unknown event and now, they’d found each other again. He was about to tell her that his love for this woman was still alive and strong. She put her good hand to her eyes as more tears fell.

  Sam stopped his story and got quiet. “Kirin, look at me,” he demanded.

  When she didn’t move, Sam stood and turned her face around to meet his. She jerked her head away, picked up a napkin off her tray and wiped her face. Then turned back toward him. Sam leaned down. His pleading green eyes inches from hers.

  “I don’t love her, okay? I’m only telling you this because her story intersects with mine and it’ll help you understand.”

  She nodded, but only because the lump that formed in her throat was burning and speaking wouldn’t have been feasible.

  Sam sat and continued, quicker, “We joked all the time that she should’ve been an attorney with her love of arguing, but at sixteen you listen to the adults around you. We didn’t fully understand at that point what we were signing up for, but the adults did. My mother never looked at me quite the same way...”

  Sam’s voice trailed off, causing Kirin to glance up and see the tears in his eyes, “At sixteen, I lost my virginity...on assignment.”

  The realization hung in the air. He was paid to be nice to women, flirt and schmooze all the way up to sex if needed. His words came rushing back, “I’ve been with other women, but I’ve never brought anyone back to my house and I’ve never been in love.”

  “She’s in town because...” he hesitated. “She owns a very successful law practice in Ohio and everyone she surrounds herself with is married with kids. They seem happy, which is something that’s eluded her, her whole life.”