The explosion rips the earth from beneath his feet, tossing his unsuspecting form feet away from where it originally stood. The residual embers skid his back with a scalding precision, making it nearly impossible to stand until it's all over.
His property. The same damn property he worked so hard to protect, was now a collection of smoke and ashes. He'd allow himself the privilege of being consumed by anger, if it weren't for the limp leather clad body lying in the ruins.
"McCall." He breathes out as he rushes to her side. Noticing the gaping wound across her forehead, he begins to tend to it with his tattered shirt. "What the hell are you doing here?"
She hisses as he compresses the inflicted area "I needed to tell you something…couldn't wait."
"Look, I'm sorry you got caught in the middle of this, but what was so important you had to rush out here in the middle of night?"
Her eyes suddenly shift uncertainly, as if she's contemplating not telling him the truth, but she lets it out anyway.
"I found out…the doctors told me that I'm pregnant and…"
"…I'm the father."
--
"Sammy girl, take it easy there." Coleman warns as he tries to pry the bottle from her hand. She'll appreciate his good intentions another day, but right now, all she wants to do is smack his hand away, get piss drunk and forget this day ever happened.
Cool air rushes in when another patron enters the bar. He asks for the seat next to her, but she bluntly refuses.
"Too bad." He retorts.
"Whatever" She grumbles, knocking back another swig. Curiosity drags her face towards his, and when she sees it's newly appointed mob boss Johnny Zacchara, she lets out a chuckle.
"You've just inherited a mafia empire and probably millions, yet you come down to the cheapest joint in PC to drink beer? Strange."
"It's complicated McCall." He quickly defends. "I'm not sticking around and moping in that house where Olivia Falconeri happened to dumped me."
--
"Here's to Jason." She exclaims wildly, shot glass in hand. "Who can finally adopt his perfect little family with Carly."
It's been going on for hours, her 'ceremoniously' dubbing shots to those in her lives, while he just sits, listens and sips on a beer. The bottle of tequila is drained and unlike Sam, he's sober enough to know enough is enough.
"Come on." He commands, yanking the glass out of her grasp. "You're completely smashed."
"Leave me alone Zacchara." She protests.
He chides again, she refuses. He offers her a ride home, she objects. He loses his patience, pulls her close by the arm, and she stays silent.
The silence doesn't give way, forcing his other senses to strengthen and focus on the woman before him. Lithe figure, soft pink lips, dark chestnut eyes, features like those made her a threat to men.
And he wouldn't mind being annihilated by her.
He pulled her dangerously close, certain she had an idea about what his intentions were and molded his lips against hers. The primal taste of her, the tequila, it combined to make one hell of a kiss-until she managed to push him away.
"C'mon Sam. What do we have to lose here?"
Her simmering chocolate eyes that once emanated uncertainty now shone brightly with lust.
"Nothing Johnny. Absolutely nothing."
--
"Sam, you and baby are going to be fine. But for both your sakes, please, lay off the mob moll routine for now, ok?" Dr. Patrick Drake bears her a dimpled smile before walking out and for a moment, she allows herself a sigh of relief.
Until that all too familiar feeling of dread comes around and attacks.
The pregnancy was going along great, but she guiltily feared it was all too good to be true. Karma's hand certainly wasn't done clawing at her yet and with a baby involved, it suddenly became much easier to rip that happiness from right under her feet.
But, its doubts like those that consumed her thoughts, ruined her relationships, and ultimately ridded her baby girl Lila. And if fate dealt Sam another loss like that, she's not sure if she could ever recover.
--
It's been hours since he brought her down to the hospital and yet, the anxiety in the pit of his stomach hasn't died down at all.
A father, he thinks to himself. He's going to be a father.
The very notion of the word sends him into his own painful memories of Anthony Zacchara, the mafia kingpin, murderer, lunatic, and most importantly his father. With genes like those, he hadn't the faintest clue how this kid would survive being part Zacchara.
Still nestled deep in his thoughts, Johnny didn't notice Patrick coming out of Sam's room.
"Bruise on her forehead and a couple of lacerations, but other than that, everything should be ok." He scribbles some doctor jargon on his clipboard before adding, "Just remember Zacchara, any sort of unnecessary trauma like this could prove to be detrimental to Sam and the baby in the future."
With that, Patrick sauntered out of the hallway, leaving him face to face with a shaken Sam.
--
"It's not a problem, I can take care of this baby by myself, and you can be as involved as you want. But I need to know Johnny, are we in this together or am I hanging solo?"
The crestfallen look contorting Johnny's face disturbs her but, it's not the unattractiveness that haunts her. What haunts her is that Jason's face had taken the same form during baby Jake's birth. And if that was any indicator of what's to come, then she knows exactly what Johnny's going to say.
"I just think it'll be a lot safer for the baby and you if I just stayed out of your lives."
Bingo.