by Linzi Basset
This time, the fear forced him to dig deeper, try to decipher what it truly meant and why it threatened to cripple him. He’d faced death, torture and dodged bullets but this time, the fear of losing Samantha threatened to undo him.
“If only I’d protected you better. I would’ve taken the bullet for you,” he softly berated himself. It had been on his mind since he watched her get shot, an expression of horror and resignation on her face.
It had happened so fast and so unexpectedly and yet, at the time it had seemed in slow motion. And he couldn’t get to her in time. He’d failed to protect her. To keep her safe.
He should’ve known. Been prepared. And because he hadn’t considered just how fucked-up Adam Baxter was, here she was, fighting for her life.
Even under a light cotton sheet, she was sweating like a brick out of oven. Ethan and the specialist have been trying for the past twenty-four hours to break the fever that she developed seven hours after the operation, without success. Her breathing quivered through her colorless lips. She started to shake as a bout of cold fever began afresh.
“Come on, luv. It’s time to wake up. You’re stronger than this. You’ve survived so much over the years. I need you to come back to me. You have to beat this, baby,” he urged in a gruff voice while rubbing her arms to try and ease the unsettling chill that was wracking her body.
He fetched a warm cloth from the tiny bathroom to the side of the room and started to wipe her down. He kept at it for an hour until her body relaxed.
Rhone was bone tired. He hasn’t slept since she’d been shot. He couldn’t. It had happened too often during the war, when he’d lost comrades in the dead of the night, slipping away silently.
He pushed the bed Ethan had brought in for him, against hers and laid down next to her.
“You’re beautiful, my little firecracker. So beautiful,” he whispered with his lips pressed against her cheek.
Suddenly, the need to hold her against him became too much. He carefully slipped his arm under her back and crawled as close as he could without hurting her. He cuddled her against his chest, his hand resting over her heart, feeling and listening to the erratic thumping which lulled him to an exhausted sleep.
* * * * * * * *
“It’s not your time, my darling girl. You have just found your sister. She needs you, more than you’ll ever know.”
“I’m tired, Mom. So tired of all of the death and destruction.”
“I know, darling but I firmly believe you were put on this path because you have the strength to survive this. Now, finally, it’s your time to be happy.”
Samantha felt a whisper soft caress against her cheek, calling out to her.
“You’ve found love, which is what I have always wished for you.”
“But I don’t know if he loves me, Mom. What if I imagined what I saw in his eyes?”
“Never doubt the power of love, my girl, and always follow its light. When it comes for you this time, reach for it and he will be waiting.”
“Mom, no! Don’t go. I missed you so much,” she begged as the whimsical apparition in white chiffon began to fade.
“I love you, Samantha. I’ll always be in your heart. Be happy, my darling. And remember, reach for the light. He will be waiting.”
Her eyes felt raw; a warm weight weighed down her chest as she sucked in a deep breath.
“Mother, stay.”
Her brows furrowed as she listened to her own despondent voice. Without the will to live, without direction, she felt adrift. She started to follow her mother, to leave the worthless world behind, but something pulled her in the opposite direction. A searing pain gripped her chest, her throat, and ripped her from the path she so desperately wanted to follow, only to propel her toward a glowing light.
A lifeline was not to be toiled with, she heard a deep voice bellow in her mind. She struggled with the decision. Watching longingly as the vision of her mother slowly disintegrated before she glanced toward the golden glow in the distance.
I am so tired. Is life really worth it?
Her soul hunkered for release from the darkness. Death was the only solution. It has to be. She wanted to leave the cage of this body behind.
And then I can finally rest. I can let go of all the regrets.
The glowing light in the distance became brighter, shining like a beacon in the night. A silhouette appeared, a man, growing taller and bigger as he slowly walked closer.
“No,” she whimpered, worried that Adam Baxter had found her again.
But he couldn’t be encased in a halo of gold. No, he would be enshrouded with the cloths of hell. Black, dirty and ugly as sin.
The man who came closer was bigger, dynamic and powerful. He reached out his hand to her.
“I need you to come back to me. You have to beat this, baby.”
Rhone.
The sound of his voice brought joy to her. She turned to notice the smile on her mother’s disappearing face.
“Thank you, Mom.”
“He is your light, my darling. Go to him.”
Samantha didn’t hesitate. This time she chose the direction her life was going to take. She reached out and touched his hand. The warmth from his body seeped into hers, infiltrated into every crevice of her body and her heart.
She sighed. At peace for the first time in sixteen years as she felt the black void inside her soul disintegrate within the strong clasp of Rhone’s arms around her. Her protector. The man she’d come to trust with her life.
My love.
She relaxed into his embrace. A glowing light formed a cocoon around them and warmed her chilled bones until she settled into a deep, comfortable sleep.
He’s here with me. I can feel him. I can feel his love.
Samantha awoke to soft sheets, and morning light trickling through the blinds. Shaking off the remnants of the dream, she blinked as she soaked in the warmth of her bed.
She kept still, keeping her eyes closed, matching her breaths to the beep-beep that sounded in the distance. She frowned. Where am I? She tried moving her legs but they were numb.
Curious, she opened her swollen eyes again and perused the room. She moved her eyes around the room, the soft magnolia walls, artful paintings and deep leather chairs in the corner of the room. She closed her eyes.
Where the hell am I? What happened?
She blinked again. Everything was still blurry. She pressed her eyes tightly shut for the third time, trying to remember what had happened.
Why can’t I remember?
She stared at the IV monitor, the heart machine and the cords attached to her arm.
Hospital. I’m in a hospital.
The memory resurfaced and the blinding pain of the bullet tearing through her chest had her jerking fully awake. Adam Baxter. The bastard had shot her . . . and once again taken Lauren and Beckie.
She moaned trying to move but a dead weight on her side kept her down. For a moment she panicked, thinking she had lost the use of her legs. That the bullet had penetrated her spine.
Until she turned her head to encounter the sleeping face of the man who had brought her back from the gates of death.
Samantha felt tears trickling down her cheeks before she realized she was crying. She lifted her hand and caressed the beard on his cheeks. A sign that he had not shaved for days.
“Rhone,” she whispered, smiling through her tears when his eyes popped open immediately. He stared at her for a moment while his brain tried to comprehend what he was looking at.
“Samantha? Luv, you’re awake,” he beamed with a slow smile curving his lips.
But what touched her heart was the depth of the joy in his eyes as his body sagged in relief against hers. He; tightened his arms around her and bestowed kiss upon kiss all over her face.
She cupped his cheek.
“I love you, Rhone. Did I remember to tell you that?”
“You did, baby. But, I’ve missed hearing those words the past two days,” he admitted with a
guttural voice.
Samantha smiled blindingly. She yearned to hear those words from his lips too but for now, she exulted in the scorching light in his eyes when he stared at her. Because whether Rhone was aware of it or not, they were the window to his soul and it was there for her to see.
He does love me.
“You had me worried, luv. I don’t know how . . . I couldn’t envision . . .” He faltered over the words, confusion turned his eyes smoky. She pressed her fingers against his lips.
Samantha decided there and then, it was her mission; to make him believe in love, in her and in their love for each other. He will be able to express his emotions one day.
Or I’ll die trying.
“I know, my love.” She leaned closer to kiss his lips. “It was you,” she said softly.
“Me?”
“I heard you. You told me to come back to you, that you needed me to beat this. It was you who kept me from walking away.”
“Baby, you . . . fuck, I wish I could . . .”
“Rhone, it’ll come. Don’t try and force it. I know it will because I’m going to make sure you learn to articulate what you feel. One way or the other, I am going to break through the barrier inside your soul.”
“Samantha, I’m afraid . . . I’ve seen too much, experienced even more . . . it killed that part of me. But this, nearly losing you, scared me; showed me how much you mean to me. It’s a start, but I . . . you’re going to have to give me time, baby,” he pleaded and continued to place soft kisses on her lips and eyelids which were fluttering closed.
“I’m tired, honey. Stay with me. Don’t go,” she sighed before she slipped into a relaxed sleep.
Rhone locked his arms around her and pressed his cheek against hers.
“I’m not going anywhere, luv.”
It didn’t take long for him to follow her into a deep slumber; fatigue and worry finally coming to rest. His heartbeat slowed as he tuned his breathing to hers, feeling the warmth of her love encapsulate the chambers of his heart.
She was his. He would always keep her safe and protect her. Always. He was never letting her go.
He knew.
Because his heart told him so.
* * * * * * * *
“Vraiment, Ethan? And who’s going to stop me? Toi? I don’t think so.”
Rhone smiled at the censure he could hear, in the voice of Enzo Bonheur—his middle-aged chef, in the hallway outside Samantha’s hospital room.
“Honey, please. I know that it’s hospital policy, but I feel so much better and I want to see more people,” Samantha said with a pout.
“Oh, so now I’m not enough anymore. What does he have I don’t?” He teased.
“Hmm, for one thing, he makes the most divine crepes.”
Rhone chuckled. He leaned in and kissed her lingeringly. “Only if you promise to keep still and tell me when you get tired.”
“I promise,” she said immediately.
Rhone opened the door and couldn’t stay the laugh that burst forth at the sight that met his eyes. The gray-haired chef stood with his chest pressed against Ethan’s. Half his size, he looked like a kitten facing an enormous tiger. It was one thing he’d always treasured about Enzo. He wasn’t scared of anyone and he became fiercely protective of those he cared for.
Samantha had become as important to him as she had to Rhone.
“Ethan—”
“Not you too! She has to—”
“I’m fine! I told you so this morning. Pleeeease, Ethan,” Samantha begged from inside the room.
Ethan’s chin lowered to rest on his chest in defeat. He shook his head.
“I guess I don’t stand a chance against the lot of you. Very well, but no more than fifteen minutes. Is that understood, Enzo?”
Enzo narrowed his eyes. He tapped a crooked finger against Ethan’s chest. “Don’t try and Dom me, young man. I am old enough to be your father.”
Ethan stepped out of the way with a smile at Rhone. They watched him disappear into the room.
“How is she really, Ethan? I don’t want her to overexert herself.”
“That little woman of yours has more guts and perseverance than I’ve ever come across. Since her fever broke, she’s gearing to jump from that bed and start doing push-ups, as she blatantly informed me last night.”
“It only broke yesterday, Ethan. And the wound needs time to heal.”
“Yes and her body is in a shock. Don’t worry, Rhone. I’m not releasing her for another week at least and only once I have your guarantee that she won’t be active for another three thereafter.”
Rhone nodded to the room where the animated voices of the two people inside could be heard.
“I don’t think we need to be concerned about that. Enzo will make sure she gets well.”
“Uncle Rhone!” An excited shout drew his attention and his face broke into a wide smile.
“Poppet!”
Beckie threw herself into his arms and chirped gleefully as he swung her around.
“I’m so happy to see you. God, I can’t believe you managed to escape,” he said into her hair.
“I know but Mom was clever and I’m so glad to be back with Daddy. I missed you all so much.”
There had always been a strong bond between Beckie and Rhone.
Rhone lowered her to the floor. She stood next to him with her arm around his waist. She stared at Ethan. A small frown appeared on her face.
“Do I know him, Daddy? He seems very familiar. I know he came to stitch me up but I think I know him,” Beckie asked Keon, who stood watching with a pleased look on his face.
“Yes, my darling, you do. It’s Ethan, remember? He used to bring you the fruity pops you loved so much.”
Her lips pouted as she searched her mind. “I don’t remember but I know I’ve seen you. May I hug you too, Uncle Ethan?” Beckie was so happy to be among people she used to love, she just wanted to express it to everyone.
“You may, little nurse,” Ethan gruffed.
“Eeek! Now I remember! We used to play doctor and nurse with my dolls!” She jumped into his arms and no one was surprised to see Ethan blink his eyes furiously.
“How’s the wound?” he asked finally.
“Not sore at all. Dad cleaned and covered it before we came,” she said, tentatively patting the bandage on her forehead. “He also cleaned Mom’s hand and bandaged it again,” she beamed.
Rhone noticed the blush spreading over Lauren’s cheeks.
Beckie giggled. “After he threatened to spank her ass when—”
“Rebecca!” Lauren said sharply, her cheeks now as red as a tomato.
“But he did!”
Keon seemed unfazed by the furious glare Lauren bestowed on him. “Now see what you’ve done,” she whispered.
He looked down his nose at her which caused her nostrils to flare in further annoyance.
“Next time I’ll spank first and—”
“You are not funny, LeLuc!”
“Oh, I’m not trying to be. I’m dead serious,” he said matter of fact.
Beckie was beaming. It was evident that she was elated by the obvious sparks flying between her father and adopted mother. Although it was just as evident that the two of them were at odd ends with each other.
“Lauren wants to see Samantha. Is she up to it yet?” Keon questioned Ethan.
Ethan frowned but when he saw the worry in the redhead’s eyes, he sighed resignedly. “Ten minutes. No more. She might think she’s feeling strong but she needs rest. Her body has to heal and too much excitement isn’t good for her.”
“I won’t upset her. I just need to see for myself that she’s alive, that she managed to escape that . . . man’s wrath,” Lauren responded.
Rhone and Ethan looked at Keon. They had seen her reaction to Adam. The fact that she’d resisted in leaving the house was also fresh in their minds.
Ethan opened the door for them. Samantha’s excited shriek was followed by a tearful second reunion
between the two sisters.
The three men stayed in the hallway. “What the hell is going on, Keon? We all saw how she acted toward Adam.”
Keon tugged at his long hair and with an irritated grunt, fished a band out of his pocket and tied it behind his head in a man-bun.
“I’m still trying to ascertain her motives myself and I can’t help being cautious. Especially now that I have Beckie back. She hasn’t said anything about her relationship with him, except that I shouldn’t make assumptions.” He looked between the two men. “It’s like déjà vu; first Samantha, who we didn’t trust because of Adam, and now her sister. How the fuck do I know if she’s for real and not here under a disguise to keep him informed of our movements?”
“How did they manage to escape?” Ethan wanted to know and listened attentively when Keon filled them in.
“I’m just glad they managed to find me. Max and Richard are busy scouring the aerial views from the satellites in a fifty mile radius of the accident site. I don’t have much hope but I’m not leaving any stone unturned. If Baxter is still in that area, we need to find him.”
“Bracus and Quinlan are also working with Hagan, remember him, Ethan?” Rhone asked.
“Yeah, one of Ruark’s friends who used to be with the FBI?”
“Yes, he’s using his contacts to see if they can find anything on Baxter, but seeing as he works for the CIA, all his records are airtight.”
“What the fuck? He should be exposed for the bastard that he is, Rhone! We should involve Alex. He can open the can of worms,” Keon insisted.
“You’re right. Trying to find him or wait until he shows his face isn’t going to cut it. He needs to be cornered. The sooner he becomes the hunted, the better,” Rhone agreed.
“You know,” Ethan pondered aloud, “from how you explained the accident, he must have suffered severe trauma on his face that will probably require intensive medical treatment. Max and Richard should expand their search to hospitals. Even private ones or small clinics. Somewhere, someone has to be helping him.”
