Chapter two
Martin ran to the elevator. It was 11:32am, and he was late. He pressed the button that indicated the 12th floor. He tapped his foot feeling uneasy all of a sudden. He was worried what Jack might say about his fashionably late appearance. But when he stepped off of the elevator, the bullpen was silent. He spotted Danny sitting quietly at his desk scanning a piece of paper.
"What's going on?" he asked. He had a feeling that whatever it was it wasn't good.
Danny turned to Martin and gave him a smile. He patted Martin on the shoulder a few times. "Nothing Man. You're just in time." He pointed towards the whiteboard. "Miles Jones. He was on his way to work this morning, but he never made it."
Martin's nerves began to calm. Everything was fine. He sat on Danny's desk so that Danny could catch him up on what he missed. "Where is everybody?"
"Vivian and Elena are out in the field. Jack is in his office, and Sam hasn't shown up yet."
Martin's nerves began to rise again with a greater intensity. Suddenly, worry filled his heart. Why hasn't Samantha come in yet? His heart began to race. Something wasn't right. "Has anybody heard from her this morning?"
Danny took a drink of his coffee. "Nope."
Martin raced to Jack's office. He didn't bother knocking on the glass door; he just barged right in. Ignoring Jack's annoyance, Martin said, "Can I go to Sam's house?"
Jack looked at Martin like he was crazy. "Okay," he said. He normally would say no, but he had a feeling that something was wrong.
Martin gave Jack a small smile before running out of the office.
Within twenty minutes, Martin stood outside of Samantha's apartment, rasping on the door, but there was no answer. This did not help ease Martin's nerves. Fear and worry was consuming him. He took out his cell phone and called Samantha's phone. Leaning in closer to the door, Martin could hear the unmistakable sound of Samantha's phone ringing. Samantha always answered her phone. He reached down under the rug for the spare key. With little difficulty, the door unlocked, and it easily slid open.
Martin looked around the room. At first he saw nothing. Then his heart skipped a beat when he saw Samantha lying on the couch unmoving. His eyes immediately spotted an open bottle of Aspirin lying on its side. Alongside it was an empty bottle of wine.
Tears sprang to Martin's eyes as the realization of what Samantha did dawned on him. Why didn't he push her to talk to him? Why didn't he see this coming? He knew that Samantha was hurt, but he had no idea that it was this bad.
Martin reached down and placed two fingers on Samantha's neck, pressing gently. His breathing was hard as his heart pounded. He expected to feel nothing, but there was a pulse. Then he saw the steady rise and fall of Samantha's chest. Relief washed over him like a tidal wave. She was alive!
Then Martin looked down and saw a plethora of pills lying on the ground. Maybe she didn't take any after all. He reached up and began to gently shake Samantha. "Sam," he pleaded. A part of him was still worried. He had to actually see her move and talk.
Samantha opened her eyes. At first she stared around her apartment before finding Martin staring at her. She gave him a confused look. Her confusion escalated when Martin wrapped his arms around her.
Martin sniffled. He was thankful to have Samantha. He didn't know what he would do if she swallowed the pills.
Samantha pulled away from Martin. Her eyes travelled to the pills and empty bottle of wine. She began to stand up but cringed. Her head was spinning as she realized that she had a hangover. She immediately lay back down on the couch, not meeting Martin's gaze. The silence, however, was killing her, so she said, "What time is it?"
"Samantha?" Martin said. Disappointment filled his voice. "What's going on?"
Samantha cringed at the sound of Martin's voice. She knew that she would have to tell him. He practically ran to her side because he thought she had killed herself. Samantha sunk deeper into the couch. She stared off outside to find the sun shining. "I don't know," she lied.
Martin reached up and placed his hand on Samantha's right cheek so that he could divert her gaze from looking outside to looking at him. His voice was soft. "I'm worried about you. Talk to me," he said slowly.
Samantha preferred not to tell the love of her life. She didn't want to worry him. If she did spill her guts, it would put a damper on the mood. "I don't know… I just…everything's falling apart. I can't concentrate. I can't eat or sleep. I just want…. I don't know what's going on with me." She lowered her voice before saying, "I'm scared." This confession was all true, and it was the first time that she had opened up to anybody in a really long time.
Martin's hands rested on Samantha's knees. "Let's start with yesterday in the warehouse." He had been thinking about that a lot since it happened which was the reason he was so nervous this morning. He knew what Samantha was thinking about. It terrified him more than anything.
Samantha looked to the ceiling. She hated him right now. All she wanted was for him to leave her alone. She finally met his gaze. "Do you really want to know?" She worked her tongue into her cheek. She purposely didn't stare at him. His gaze was unbearable.
Martin was almost afraid of what she was going to say. Her voice carried an evil connotation. He just shook his head and swallowed the lump in his throat.
"I was thinking that if he pulled the trigger, then I wouldn't care," she admitted. "Everything would be over." She moved her eyes all around the room but averted Martin's eyes.
Martin just stared at her. She had just confirmed his worst fear. "And what about this?" He waved his hand over the spilled pills and wine bottle.
She looked at them. She hated Martin. Why couldn't he just see the fact that she wanted to be alone? Why was he doing this to her? "I was going to swallow the whole bottle." She paused. "I swallowed some, but I couldn't. I just dropped them," she explained making sure that she wasn't looking at Martin.
Martin's anxiety increased. He couldn't believe that this kind of turmoil rumbled in Samantha's heart. He extended his arms out and pulled Samantha into a hug. "Well…I'm really glad that you didn't," he whispered in her ear. "The world would be nothing without a Samantha Spade.
After letting go of Samantha, Martin said, "What do you think is causing this…change in mood?" He chose his words carefully.
Samantha shrugged. This is the big question. It was the question that turned her into a professional liar. "Stupid, little things."
Martin grabbed Samantha's hand and squeezed it. "They can't be stupid if it's bothering you so much."
Samantha sighed. She placed her eyes on the ceiling. "My mom died," she said without emotion.
Martin felt hurt. Why didn't she tell him? He was in shock. "Is that where you went for a few days? To your mother's funeral?"
Samantha shook her head. Tears began to stream down her face. She didn't know what it was, but she found herself willingly opening up to Martin. "I know that I didn't have a good childhood, but….she's was….I mean… she's my mom. I know it didn't always seem like it, but I loved her."
Martin hated seeing Samantha like this. He knew that she hadn't been acting like herself lately, but he had no idea that this plagued her heart. He had no idea that her heart caused this much stress on her body. No wonder she looked tired and a bit skinny. He had broken up with her a day before she disappeared for a few days. She seemed fine then, even after the breakup, but when she returned, she was different. She was numb to emotion. He vowed that he was going to help her get through this. "I think that you should go see Lisa," Martin said.
Samantha turned to him and authoritatively said, "No."
Martin expected her to say this. It took her awhile to open up to therapy after she got shot. But this time, he was going to press her. He wasn't going to take no for an answer. Last time he did, he found her lying on the couch with a hangover and an entire bottle of pills surrounding her. Her life probably depended on seeing Lisa, but he wanted to be compassionate. "Samantha, Honey, these feelings aren't going to go away by themselves. They're going to get worse. I want you to get help, and I'll be here for you every step of the way." He placed his hand on her cheek and caressed it with his thumb.
Samantha didn't move her face. Instead, she just dropped her eyes. She leaned into Martin's hands, loving his touch on her skin. It was a touch that she thought would never come again. A few tears fell from her eyes. "I'm scared," she whispered.
Martin leaned in once again to hug Samantha. "I know you are. I am too, but we'll get through this together, okay?"
Samantha broke away from Martin's grip and stared at him. "Okay," she said. "But can I just be alone? I'll come in later to see Lisa."
Martin's face contorted in to worry. He didn't want to leave Samantha alone. He had no idea what she would do to herself. "Sam… I don't…think that would be a good…idea," he said.
Samantha hugged herself and cocked her head to the side. More tears escaped her beautiful eyes. "Please?" she pleaded with her eyes.
Martin's heart melted. He reached out for her, but she backed up unwilling to allow Martin to touch her. He wanted to cry when she backed up. Instead, he stood up. "Call me if you need anything, even if it's just to talk." He leaned down so that their eyes were level. "I mean it, Sam. I want to be here for you." He got up and walked to the door, placing a hand on the door knob. "I'll tell Jack that you'll be in later."
As soon as Martin closed the door, tears fell violently from his eyes. He felt helpless. Knowing Samantha's thoughts was disturbing. He felt as if her soul was swimming around in his mind twisting his sense of reality. He look a long look at the door before heading down the hallway. He was extremely worried about her. Any minute, she could take her life. Silent tears fell down his cheeks as he exited the building.
Samantha sat on the couch for awhile, one part grateful for Martin. But the other part was angry at Martin. How could one man make her open up to him? She suddenly wished that she hadn't told Martin. She promised that she wasn't going to open up that much to Martin again. And now, because she told Martin what was going on in her mind, she was going to get the attention she feared having. Her mind finally forwarded to her sessions with Lisa. Anxiety made Samantha shiver. Most likely, she was going to have to tell Lisa something that she hadn't even told her mother or sister. Her stomach felt uneasy. She wasn't sure how talking to Lisa would help. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and die. But instead, she turned on the warm water and took a shower.
When Samantha stepped off of the elevator, she was immediately bombarded by Martin.
"How are you feeling?" Martin asked.
Samantha once again retreated in to her body and mind, refusing to allow anybody in. She was nervous, and her stomach fluttered. She wondered if she should tell Martin her sudden fear to go see Lisa. No. He already knew way too much. "Good," she lied. She forced her voice to carry an ounce of happiness.
When Samantha reached the door, she hesitated and looked to Martin who stood a few feet away. He was nervous enough for the both of them. When Martin gave a bright smile and a head shake, Samantha turned in and walked into Lisa's office.
