“Please, Will. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for the rest of us. Do it for me as your friend. Do it because I’m asking you to.”
“It won’t change anything.”
“At least you’d know you did everything you could to make an informed, logical decision and not one based on emotions.”
“Yeah, fine. I’ll do it.”
“And you’ll let me know how it goes.”
Will nodded. “I will.”
Freddie released the breath he’d been holding. “Okay, then.” After Will went back to his cubicle to finish the report on the double suicide, Freddie closed his eyes for a few minutes to process what Will had said. Freddie certainly didn’t blame his colleague for feeling the way he did. In more than eight years on the job, he’d seen his share of people who’d decided police work wasn’t for them after they got a dose of the reality. But Will was a damned good detective, and it’d be a shame to see all that potential lost to grief that would, over time, become more manageable.
Hell, Freddie missed Arnold and his corny jokes and his endless optimism and almost naive approach to life and the job. He was a good guy, a great colleague and friend. But even after all the insane crap that’d happened in the last year, it had never occurred to Freddie to quit the force. What would he do with himself without this job to come to every day? Who would he be without it?
And most important of all, where in the hell was Sam when he needed her?
* * *
WAITING WAS TORTURE, especially for the most impatient woman on the face of the earth. Sam wanted answers, and she wanted them right now. But even more than that, she wanted Nick. They’d said it would be six hours until he landed at Andrews. That was seven hours ago, and she was now, officially, coming out of her skin waiting to see him and find out what he knew about this alleged threat against their family.
She had to give the agents credit. They’d gone to extraordinary lengths to ensure the comfort of her family, even going so far as to bring in a hospital bed and other equipment for her father, who was now resting comfortably with Celia by his side in an adjoining room. The kids had been fed, bathed and put to bed in a room with eight twin-size beds. Other bedrooms had been provided for each couple.
Sam had been shown to her room, which had a king-size bed, a television that received only movie channels—she’d checked that first thing—and an adjoining bathroom. The accommodations weren’t bad except for the lack of windows. This had to be what it felt like to be in a really nice jail.
Her brother-in-law Spencer had arrived about two hours ago, clearly rattled after having been escorted from a business trip in Philadelphia to where his family was being held in DC. Angela had been so happy to see him she’d burst into tears and rushed into his arms.
Scotty was in the main room playing video games with his cousin Ethan, so Sam took advantage of the opportunity to steal some alone time.
Weary and out of things to talk about with people who wanted answers she didn’t have, Sam stretched out on the bed in the room she’d been assigned. She wondered what her MPD colleagues were thinking about how she’d been taken from a crime scene by the Secret Service. Freddie had to be taking it hard. He’d blame himself for not being able to stop the agents from taking her. When she got a chance, Sam would tell him there was nothing he could’ve done to change the outcome. The agents had been operating on the orders of the vice president, and nothing could’ve stopped them.
She also wondered if they had any new information about the body in the river. Was it Ruby Denton? Would they be able to figure out what’d happened to her and get some closure for her poor parents?
Sam hated being cut off from her life this way. It was a form of torture to someone used to being in the know at all times.
Though she wanted to wait up for Nick, she couldn’t keep her eyes open and dozed off, only to be tormented by crazy dreams about being chased through an underground bunker. Water running in the attached bathroom had her sitting up on the bed, shaking off the feelings of doom from the disturbing dream. She bolted out of bed and was heading for the bathroom when the door opened to reveal her husband, stripped down to boxers, his magnificent chest on full display.
Sam rushed to him, and he met her with arms wide open, lifting her up and into his embrace. She had never, in all her life, been so happy to see anyone as she was to see him, to breathe in the scent of home, to feel his strong arms around her, to know he was safe and sound and back where he belonged.
Before she could ask any of her burning questions, he was kissing her with weeks’ worth of pent-up desire exploding between them, making the questions secondary to the need to reconnect with him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, losing herself in the kiss. Then she was falling onto the bed with him coming down on top of her, heavy, strong and hard as a rock. Before she took total leave of her senses, she broke the kiss. “We need to talk.”
“We will.” His lips moved on her neck, feeding the fire inside. “This first.”
Whatever he needed to tell her would keep for a few more minutes.
“Missed you so much,” he whispered as he made quick work of getting her naked.
“I missed you too. I hated every minute without you.”
“Same, baby.” And then he was surging into her, hot and strong and deep.
Sam arched her back, gasping from the impact and the pleasure and the nearly painful need he aroused in her. “The door...”
“Is locked. It’s okay.”
She relaxed ever so slightly, knowing they wouldn’t be interrupted but still anxious about what he had to tell her.
“You’re all tense,” he said when he was deep inside her, throbbing and pulsing with life.
“You’re not?”
“I have been, but I’m better now that I’m with you and everyone we love is safe. Give me fifteen minutes to have this, to be with you, and then we can deal with everything else.” He wrapped her up in his arms and rocked into her, over and over again until it wasn’t possible to think about anything other than him and the magic they created together. “Love you so much,” he whispered in her ear. “So, so, so much.”
“Mmm, me too. Don’t ever go away again. I can’t deal with it.”
“I can’t either. I hate being away from you.” His lips found hers in another hungry, desperate kiss.
Sam clung to him, drawing strength from his love to face whatever had to be done to keep their family safe. With him here now, she was less anxious and afraid than she’d been earlier.
“I was so scared something had happened to you.”
He tightened his arms around her and picked up the pace, letting her know he was alive and well and home where he belonged. “I’m sorry you were scared. I never wanted that.” Reaching to where they were joined, he touched her right where she needed it most, drawing a sharp cry of pleasure from her as she came hard.
