The mild acceptance instead of praise caused her shoulders to sink. She looked over the grass and dirt under her hands to see where she’d gone wrong. Smacking down a stubborn edge of unearthed grass, she found yet another small pool of blood that was too visible. She picked up a chunk of dirt and packed it over the offending area so that it was obscured from sight.
“It looks good,” Sam assured her, offering his hand to help her up off the ground. She surprised him by taking his hand and using it to pull herself up next to him. Without thinking or recalling his personality, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest.
Before she made contact, her forearm flew up to shield her breast while her other arm guarded her stomach from his body.
It was the strangest embrace he’d ever had, including when Liam would try his hand at different wrestling holds by sneaking up on him from behind. Sam hoped that she could allow a modicum of softness to surface, but the hug only caused her to stiffen against him, like she did not understand the concept of an embrace from a man.
Alec did not need to be asked to leave. He granted the two a moment of privacy as he picked up the discarded shovel and Baird’s plastic bag. He ironed out a few more dirt patches and wiped off his knife on the grass before leaving them in the darkness.
Blue’s rigid body frustrated Sam, but he feared that he would make her even more uncomfortable if he said anything overtly selfish. “Hey.” He willed his voice to be gentle. “You can relax. It’s over now.” He rubbed long, deliberate circles into her back.
So quiet that he almost didn’t hear it, Blue whispered. “It’s not over. It’ll never be over! This is just the start of what I’ll have to do.”
Sam considered this a moment as he traced a line down her side, stretching from her shoulder to her hip. “How about for tonight we just pretend that it’s over. You can be someone else if you want. Some gorgeous Femreaux whose biggest problem is how to fit ninety-seven dresses in a closet that only holds eighty-six.”
Blue suffered her cheek to lean against his shoulder, and felt his chest swell at the contact. Despite her devastation, she managed a short chuckle. “Wow. That is a problem.”
Sam smiled. “Then I’d come along with some brilliant solution.”
“Like what?” she prodded, her defensive fists loosening their death grip on her body.
“I don’t know. You could shove the dresses that don’t fit into my closet or something,” he suggested, mentally moving Blue into his house.
“That is brilliant,” she conceded, her tone going flat. “Sam?” she choked out in a whisper. “It’s not working!” The weight of her foul deed nearly pulled her into the freshly dug grave along with her victim. The blackout was safely at bay, but she sensed the guilt from this never would be. Dread coursed through her as she lifted one hand to the Vemreaux’s chest and clutched onto the front of Sam’s expensive shirt, using it to keep her body upright. Her face pressed between his shoulder and collarbone to muffle the single shudder that rocked through her and threatened to shake her apart. “This wasn’t my choice!” she pleaded with nobody for absolution. “Why does it have to be me?” Her knees shook under the weight of the bleak world and nearly gave way beneath her.
Sam scrambled to keep his grip around her finally pliable body as she deflated in his arms. With all of his might, he struggled to hold the girl together as she came unglued. “I’m here,” he promised.
“I just killed that guy, and I don’t even know his name!” she confessed, the ugliness of her violence rang out in every word as torture. “I’m a murderer, Sam. You’re holding a murderer! I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve killed. I’m a d-dangerous p-person!” She released his shirt to rake her nails down her arm, letting out a little of the tension she could not contain.
“You were following orders, Blue. I’ve killed people I didn’t know, too.”
“But he wasn’t even armed! I killed someone who couldn’t fight back. What kind of a person does that make me? Killing the predator’s one thing, but this guy’s just a regular person.” She buried her face further into his chest, willing the tears to stay tucked away inside of her as she scraped at her own flesh. “I’m a monster.”
Sam said nothing to this, for there were no words that would make her feelings or deeds disappear. Instead, he settled for holding her while she shook unnaturally in his arms. He reached out and grabbed her hand to stop its punishment of her arm. “Stop that. Don’t hurt yourself.”
When her tremors quieted, he brushed his fingers through her auburn hair, releasing her pheromones from the tangles. “Hey, this emptiness and regret that you’re feeling is what makes you a person instead of a killer. If you weren’t upset about all this, that would make you a monster.” He could tell that she was thinking up an argument, so he distracted her by trilling his hand down her side once more.
“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” Blue fought as best she could against the shiver that replaced her shaking. “I can see it in the guys every now and then. They get scared sometimes when they learn more about what I can do. Why’re you being nice?”
“Shh,” he whispered into her hair. “Just let me hold you until you’re not so scared of yourself.”
“That might take a while,” she warned.
“Good.” His arms around her loosened from their vice when he judged that she could stand without assistance. The loving embrace became soft with its gentility, coaxing both of them into an understood hiatus from the severe stress of the night.
After several minutes of breathing in and out together, Blue closed her eyes and nuzzled her cheek into his warmth. His hand covered her jaw and stroked the filthy flesh lovingly, bringing her further into the tender moment. “So tell me more about this Femreaux with the millions of dresses.”
Sam smiled as he lifted his other hand to cover the one she still had bunched into his shirt. He pried her blood and dirt-stained fingers loose and entwined them through his. He heard her breath catch as he pressed her knuckle to his lips and gave it a small kiss. “I’ve heard,” he began, moving on to the next knuckle as he spoke, “that the guy she’s with is really good looking.”
“Is that s-so?” she replied when she found her voice again. “I d-didn’t know you noticed other men like that.”
“Ha.” Sam paused before kissing her third knuckle. “Man, I like you,” he admitted. “This you. Not the one who’s always hiding.” His other hand found her waist and squeezed mischievously, bringing out a squirm from Blue.
“W-we should probably get going. Scene of the crime and all.”
“Just let me finish kissing your fingers, you silly woman.”
Miracle of all miracles, she let him.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The Hotel
Though there were no tears, Blue felt that she had purged entirely too much emotion. Enough weakness had been shown for one day, and hopefully, a lifetime. She finally pulled away from Sam.
Reluctantly he let her body part from his, though he would not relinquish his grasp on her hand. He did not want her to hide herself again. They walked hand in hand across the street over to the car where Alec was patiently waiting in the back seat.
“Can I drive you home so you can wash up?” Sam offered as he opened her car door for her.
Blue was confused at this repeat of chivalry, which was a new thing for her. She wondered erroneously as she stood outside the car if he thought she was too shaken to open the door for herself.
“No,” she shook her head. “I don’t want to wake them up. I have to be back in a couple hours. I’ll just jog home to kill time.” She grimaced at her poor choice of words.
Alec spoke up from the back seat. “You look like you just killed someone and buried the body, Blue. If you don’t want to go home, you can come back to the hotel and clean yourself up there. It’s no good for you to be running out in the open with blood on your face.”
Her eyes widened while Sam smirked, ushering her into t
he passenger’s seat. Though both of them were filthy, Sam reached out after he resumed his place at the wheel. He took hold of Blue’s hand, kissing it again before placing it on the gear shift. “You ready for it?” he asked, his eyebrow cocked in her direction.
“I’m ready.”
Alec called Baird from the back seat to assure him of her whereabouts, the courtesy of one guard to another. Alec felt the kindred spirit to Baird’s watchful presence. “Park around back,” Alec instructed. “Don’t use the valet.”
“You don’t want the hotel staff seeing me without my hair done?” Sam joked. “I know, Alec. I’m not stupid.”
Alec did not comment, but glanced at their clasped hands and sorely disagreed.
Blue kept her chin down, and for the first time Sam was glad that she kept her lovely features from view, given that they were covered in dirt and blood. When they reached the elevator, Blue entered hesitantly, having never been inside of one before. When Alec pushed the button to the penthouse suite, the elevator began to move. Blue’s hands flung out to the nearest wall. She grabbed onto the flat silver railing that clung to the sides of the box.
Alec shot her a look like she was a camel instead of a girl, but Sam spoke first. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Sam’s hand lingered in the empty space between them.
She looked up at him as if he was crazy. “We’re moving!”
“Yeah.” He pointed to the button marked PH that was lit up. “We have to go up to get to the room.” It began to dawn on him how different their worlds were. “You’ve never been on a lift before?”
When she shook her head and eased her knuckles off of the railing, he explained the mechanics of how elevators worked, remembering her earlier request to understand how a car functioned in order to feel safe in it. Admittedly, he did not know much about the inner workings of the elevator, but he did his best with Alec filling in the gaps he left. By the time they reached the suite, Blue did not feel quite as ruffled about the moving box as she initially did.
“Are you taking her home?” Alec asked Sam.
“Yeah, no problem.” Sam slid his plastic key card into the door and held it open for Blue.
Alec arched an eyebrow at him as if to say, “I bet.”
Though Sam had invited many a Femreaux in that very hotel room, it was the first time he’d felt nervous.
Blue gasped at the opulence. “Wow! This…this is amazing! You live here? I’ve never seen anything like it!” Alec left them for one of the bathrooms, but Blue was too overwhelmed by the decadence to think about washing up. She could not stop her astonishment. “Seriously? You have a kitchen in here? Do you even cook? Two couches? Plants? What is that, a bar?” She moved into the suite without asking permission. “Look at that table! You could fit, like, twelve people there! Whoa, that is the biggest TV I’ve ever seen. It’s bigger than I am!”
Sam kept his comments confined to quiet laughter until she got it all out of her system. It was the most he’d ever heard her speak, and the longest she’d kept her face unhidden.
“Sam, I can’t believe this is all for you guys. I mean, what do you need all this space for?”
“Well, Liam snores, for one. And two, he’s who rooms like this were built for. Royalty gets the best as a show of respect between countries. If we’re going to be away from home, why not be comfortable?” He watched her observe the suite from top to bottom. “You want to shower? Give you a chance to see the wicked huge bathroom we’ve got.”
“Sure. After Alec’s done.” She could hear the water running.
“Nah, my room’s got its own bathroom. Come on.” Without hesitation this time, he reached out and held her hand, leading her through his room to the bathroom as she looked around in wonder. “There’s shampoo, soap and towels and stuff in there. Do you need anything else?” Looking down at her dirt-smudged tank top and shorts, he did the chivalrous thing and offered her fresh clothes in the form of his most fitted t-shirt from the dresser. “You can wear this if you want. It’s clean. No signs a gorgeous guy like myself ever wore it.” He grinned, trying to force the confidence that usually came natural to him.
Blue took the shirt from him and tried not to sully it too much by running her filthy hands over the smooth material unnecessarily. It was a light gray color and the fabric was unlike anything she’d ever felt. It was soft and stretchy while still being thicker than an average t-shirt. Not bothering to hide the indiscretion, she lifted the garment to her nose and inhaled. “Mmm. It smells like you.”
“And what do I smell like?” Sam reached out to slip a lock of hair behind her ear.
“Sweet smoke and Vemreaux deodorant.”
Sam frowned. “I really smell that bad?”
Blue’s nose wrinkled, wondering what she’d said wrong. “You smell like you.”
Sam regained his cockiness. “Well, you should feel privileged. I don’t give out my clothes to just anybody.” On occasion, if he was excessively spent from the night to care much, a Femreaux would come out of the bathroom in nothing but one of his shirts, smiling in a way that was supposed to be coy. Not one for sharing, he would insist she change back into her own clothes immediately. Now here he was, voluntarily giving up a shirt so Blue could be more comfortable.
“Thank you,” Blue replied without looking up at him. The fact that they were alone in his room did not escape her notice. She didn’t want to push herself too far over the edge by looking up at the face she was growing increasingly fond of.
“Hey,” Sam tucked his finger under her chin and lifted it so that he could get a better look at her face. “You okay? You went all quiet on me.”
“Yes. I mean, n-no.” Blue began breathing unsteadily at his close proximity. “I think I’m nervous, is all.”
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked, a slight tease to his voice.
Blue gulped and glanced around the room, then threw him a withering look. “You know you do. You. The room. The blood. You. We’re so different.”
Sam did not hide his cocky smile, which pronounced her blush that much more. “Well, I can’t do anything about me. I’m your ride home. The room’s not so bad, though. The guys are right next door, just a phone call or a shout away. No need to be nervous about that. And we can take care of the blood.” His eyebrow wrinkled. “I meant you can take care of the blood. In the shower. I’ll wait out here.”
“Okay.” Blue nodded, pulling away from him. She turned and walked into the bathroom, cringing as she tripped on the way. She cursed the klutz he turned her into as she assessed the tools she needed to bathe herself. “Where’s your bucket?” she inquired, noticing its absence in the tub. “I bet you could fit Grettel and Elle’s bed in here with room to spare. This bathroom is huge!”
“Bucket?” Sam tried to imagine where a bucket would be needed in the fully functional bathroom. “I don’t have one. There’s one for ice out here. Did you want some ice?”
“No, I mean to catch the water in so I can, you know, wash myself.” When this did nothing to bring revelation to him, Blue explained in more detail their bucket at the hut and her bucket in The Way.
Sam’s confused expression grew grim as it transformed into pained disgust. He walked past her into the bathroom and turned on the shower, testing the water as it fell from the silver head. “We don’t use a bucket, Blue. Water comes out up here and you stand under it to wash yourself. The water won’t shut off on a timer. You just use it till you’re finished.”
Her eyes showed him her confusion as she watched all the droplets fall needlessly from above. “But isn’t that wasteful? I mean, look at all that water, Sam. It’s just going down the drain!” Her voice was strained as the beads of moisture added up.
“Trust me, it’s fine. I can’t believe they make you all take military showers.” He shook his head as he moved past her out of the bathroom. “Man, this is a day of firsts for you. First time using a gear shift, first ride in a lift, first real shower. Any other firsts you want to try while we’re here?”
The moment the inappropriate words slipped out, his cocky smirk mutated to chagrin. “That was stupid. I shouldn’t have said that.” He ran his hand over his tired face in an attempt to start over. “How about after this, we slow it all down. We can do something G-rated, like hold hands and trade stories that have nothing to do with anything serious,” he suggested as he yawned, covering his mouth. “Talk more about that Femreaux with ninety-seven dresses.”
Blue nodded, not completely sure what all of his odd references were. Her main focus was still on all the water that was being wasted. It was not the only thing Baird would disapprove of.
Sam shut the door to give her privacy and leaned against it with his head in his hands. The verbal vomit that flowed in the unassuming girl’s presence was disgraceful. He was the loquacious one of the four. There wasn’t a pick-up line he did not know, or a woman he’d ever misspoken so many times around.
Over and over he berated himself for turning soft so fast. Never had he let a girl borrow an article of clothing from him. Even Julia or Suzette weren’t granted that privilege, sisters as they were to him. When he’d been semi-serious with Celilia, there had been precious few tender moments or letting her into more than just his bedroom. The kicker was that Blue had not even asked for it; he just volunteered himself time after time with no hope of ever bedding her.
He pushed himself off of the door and walked over to the mirror hanging above the dresser to examine who he hoped he still was in the glass. Though his face was smudged with dirt, it was still him. His study revealed the cocky sarcasm that usually pulled his features down was not as prominent. He opened the dresser drawer and pulled out fresh clothes for him to change into after his shower. He sniffed them, unhappily noting that they did have a faint odor of the changed Vemreaux cigarettes, though he had not smoked in at least an hour.
The Way Page 35
