went into her room and crawled into bed, the one place she could go to escape from the whining, the bickering, the boredom.
Even though these were the people she loved the most in the world, she was damned tired of being stuck with them. They’d had no news from the Secret Service beyond the fact that they and the FBI were working with “all due diligence” to get to the bottom of the threat. Through Nick she’d also heard that her chief had called the White House to determine her whereabouts and had been assured she was safe.
Scotty was napping down the hall while Nick spent some time with his dad’s family and the O’Connors. With nothing else to do, Sam closed her eyes and dozed off, hoping that when she awakened, something would have changed in this ridiculous situation.
She dreamed about cases she’d worked, perps she’d arrested and her father’s shooting. Words and people and danger surrounded her as she ran from one place to another, trying to find a safe place to hide. Her ex-husband, Peter, was there, mocking her as she tried to get away, running down one dark corridor after another in a maze without end. Where was Nick? He would find her and keep her safe, but he was far away, somewhere she couldn’t get to.
Peter’s laughter echoed off the walls, reminding her that he was watching and enjoying her discomfort.
Nick’s mother, of all people, was with him.
“You never should’ve turned me away,” Nicoletta said before she shoved Sam back into the darkness and straight into the arms of Leonard Stahl.
Sam screamed, but there was no one to save her.
“You always were so cocky and mouthy,” Peter said spitefully. “I always said you needed some humility.”
With a thick arm around her neck, Stahl dragged her down another dark corridor. “This time I’m going to finish the job.” He pulled her into a room where one of Sam’s enemies, Sergeant Ramsey, stood with blood running down his face from where she’d punched him and the bodies of Mitchell Sanborn and little Quentin Johnson had been left to rot. The smell was horrific.
Sam screamed for Nick, and then he was there. She could hear his voice and tried to get to him.
“Samantha, wake up. Babe, wake up.” His lips were soft on her face as she breathed in his familiar scent.
She opened her eyes and blinked him into focus. Then she sat up and hurled herself into his arms.
“Baby, what’s wrong? I could hear you screaming from the other room.”
“I was dreaming.” She shuddered. “They were all there. Everyone who hates me. They were after me. Ramsey and Stahl... He had me by the throat, and Peter said I need some humility.”
Nick froze. “He said that? In your dream?”
“He used to say that to me all the time.”
“Samantha... The threat. That’s what it said. That we needed some humility.”
She pulled back from him and ran her hands over her face, still trying to shake off the disturbing dream. “I never thought of it. I’ve blocked him out. You don’t think...”
“I don’t know, but it’s certainly worth passing along to the Secret Service and the FBI.”
“Only if I’m there when you pass it along. I’m tired of sitting on the sidelines while others investigate a threat against us. Let me do what I do best, Nick. I need to be involved in this.”
“I’ll talk to Brant. You’re sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll be a hell of a lot better when we can get the fuck out of here.”
“Me too, babe.” He kissed her and got up to leave the room.
Sam watched him go, noting the unusual slump to his shoulders. The ordeal was taking an added toll on him because he felt it was his fault they were in this predicament. She wondered when the last time he truly slept had been. Stress made his issues with insomnia a thousand times worse, and his stress level had to be through the roof.
As soon as they got out of here, Sam was going to talk to their doctor friend Harry Flynn about getting Nick on something to help him sleep. There had to be something he could take to ensure he got a good night’s sleep without leaving him groggy and out of sorts the next day.
Nick returned a few minutes later. “The Secret Service is notifying the FBI that we want to talk to the agents in charge of the investigation. They’ll be here shortly.”
“And they’re going to let me be in there?”
“I told them you’re the one with information.”
Sam smiled and held out a hand to him.
He came over, took her hand and let her tug him into bed with her.
“Nicely played, my love,” Sam said.
“It certainly can’t hurt to have you involved in figuring out what the hell this is about.”
“I completely agree.”
He snorted with laughter. “I figured you might.”
Sam caressed his face, taking note of the deep, dark circles under his eyes. “When was the last time you slept?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You can’t go on this way. We need to talk to Harry about getting you on something.”
“He told me to try melatonin.”
“You didn’t tell me that.”
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Too late. Did it help?”
“Not that I could tell.”
Sam sighed in frustration.
He pulled her in closer to him. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ve always had insomnia and managed to soldier through.”
“It’s worse now.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Definitely.”
His soft chuckle made her smile. “Always have to have the last word, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. It’s one of many things you love about me.” She wrapped her arms around him and urged him to rest his head on her chest. “Close your eyes and try to sleep for a while. In this moment, everything is okay. I’ll be right here.”
“Promise?”
“Always.”
Sam ran her fingers through his hair in what she hoped was a soothing caress. She loved that his hair was thick and soft at the same time. She also loved the weight of his body resting against hers. Breathing in the familiar scent that she’d missed so much while he was gone, she was almost able to relax.
A
