Siblings
Part 7
Regrets
Sam woke to watery sunlight shining into the bedroom between the brown and navy curtains of the guest room. She frowned for a moment, adjusting her memory to where she was…North Carolina? Connecticut? Rhode Island? No…New York, that's right! She came up to see, oh…the excitement that had momentarily shot through her veins fizzled as she recalled the events of yesterday. Robert Goren's rejection was painful, a deep ache she doubted would ever go away.
Now, I truly am alone.
As she rolled over, she discovered two things. First, she was naked. What the hell? The afghan felt soft against her flesh and she nearly moaned with the sensation.
She noticed the sticky sensation between her thighs second, and that she was experiencing the beautifully sated warm glow you get after a night of wonderful love making.
She thought back over the evening. She clearly recalled having a nightmare and awakening to the deafening peals of thunder. The storm had roused in her all the memories of the two agonizing days spent with the man who'd kidnapped and tortured her. The man who'd said he'd loved her…wanted to marry her…the man she'd trusted…and yet he was the one who'd betrayed her and given her the painful, ugly scar on her shoulder and chest. All for a cool million dollars.
She remembered Mike holding her as she cried, with the memories clawing at her mind like wild animals and fear threatening to choke what little sanity she had left to death. Then his lips settled on hers…breathing life into her soul…her breath caught in her throat as the mere thought sent electricity thrumming through her veins. Then…dear god, then…she was kissing him back, their hands were everywhere, and they were locked in a sensual battle where victory is measured in passion.
Suddenly eager to see him, she hopped out of bed and raced through the shower. Pinning her hair into a careless knot at the back of her head and pulling on jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt that stated People like you are the reason people like me need medication. She slipped on her sneakers and practically skipped down the stairs.
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Logan had a rough morning. Already feeling guilty for having slept with Sam, thereby betraying his friendship with Goren, he was definitely mad as hell at himself when he saw how incredibly scrumptious she looked in that ridiculous-as-hell-t-shirt and tight jeans. She was not as thin as most of the women he'd dated in the past. In fact, her figure would be described as more voluptuous…full-figured rather than the stick thin types men usually go for. Until last night, he'd never fully realized what he was missing out on. God…she was beautiful! Soft, warm…perfect in every way… Her hips were round and full, inviting hands to stay and linger, her breasts large and firm…inviting a mouth to… His mind was lost in the memory of the feel of her, the taste of her...her smell, and how she touched him...
He mentally slapped himself upside the head. Damn it Logan…Goren's Baby Sister!!! Get those three fucking words imprinted in your friggin' brain, asshole!
"Hey, good morning." He tried to keep his voice nonchalant and casual. "Did you sleep well?" His eyes remained glued to the morning edition of the New York Times.
She halted abruptly, her blossoming smile fading rapidly. What is he talking about? He was there! We made love.. didn't we? It wasn't just a dream, I had semen between my thighs.
Realization dawned and color bleached from her face. Oh god…he's backing away. He's trying to pretend it didn't happen. Shit…shit…shit…I am such an idiot! Why do I do this! Every time…I just drive everyone away no matter what I do…
"I…yes, as a matter of fact I did, thank you. I thought you stayed with me for awhile…?" She gave him an open-ended opportunity there, would he take it?
"Ummm…I did until you fell asleep." He still refused to meet her eyes. Good thing, at this point she was struggling with tears. "So, where do you want to go to look for jobs? I can hook you up with some reputable Temp. Agencies."
"No, that's ok. I've been a…burden long enough." Damn, her voice almost betrayed her…Come on old girl, retain some dignity. "I'll take a walk through the downtown and stop by some restaurants with my resume…see if anyone needs a waitress."
He looked up then, concern in his gaze. "Can't you find something less stressful on your body? An office job…or something like that? Is there something you've always wanted to do?"
She smiled wanly at him. "That'd be nice, but I never finished school. I had to be on my own which translated into paying my own bills, rent, groceries, etc. I worked practically twenty-four/seven. Without a high school diploma I couldn't get into college, and without a bachelor's degree, I can't get a higher wage job. Most places will hire me because of my experience waitressing, so that's what I do, and I'm damned good at it. Besides, it's fun!" She gave him a huge grin, which took quite a bit of effort. " Besides, I meet some great people, and the customers are a hoot! It may be hard work…but it's honest work. As for what I'd like to do…let's just say that market is pretty full and I haven't had my big break yet, so I doubt it will happen."
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A half hour later they said their subdued goodbyes and Logan left for work. Sam walked slowly up the stairs and, upon entering the guest room, sank down on the bed and curled into a fetal position. She drew the pillow next to her into her arms and breathed in Mike's scent. She allowed herself a few moments of wallowing in her misery before stiffening her spine and grabbing her backpack. She glanced around to be certain nothing was left behind, and made her way out the door, pausing only to pen a note of thanks to Logan.
Detective Logan,
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the kindness you've shown me. I realize that my presence is inconvenient to you, so I have taken it upon myself to seek new lodgings. Please do not concern yourself, I have taken care of myself for as long as I can remember.
I will forever remain in your debt,
Samantha Beaumont
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It seemed as if she'd walked for hours. Restaurant after restaurant turned her out after she revealed her lack of education. The owner of a high-class French café actually accused her of being a prostitute merely trying to get a more expensive clientele list. Her feet and back ached and she had no where to spend the night. She began to look for the nearest church with a Shelter, or YWCA. She found herself on a quieter street, and about halfway down heard the most beautiful tenor sax playing a soulful jazz piece. She looked up and saw a jazz bar…making the decision to go in right then and there. It would be her last "big" expenditure until she left the Big Apple. The knot in her chest squeezed her heart tight again. No hope left…no family left…alone for good now. She gave a watery laugh, come on Sam…it's nothing new, you've been alone since you were born. She raised her chin and walked in out of the cool night air.
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Mike finally got back to his apartment around eleven. He figured Sam would be in bed by then, and didn't want to disturb her, so he didn't knock on the door of her room…although he wanted to so badly that he caught himself walking by it for the fifth time. Oh for god's sake…just do it, already…he thought savagely to himself. He'd been beating himself up all day long for how he'd treated her that morning. She'd been literally glowing when she'd skipped into the kitchen, smile blazing just for him. With one fell swoop he'd replaced that look with one of quiet despair. Frustrated, he raked a hand through his hair and let out a stream of violent curses aimed at himself.
Making a resolution, he walked briskly to her door and knocked quietly, but firmly. There was no answer. Softly he opened it and entered making his way to the bed. He stared uncomprehendingly for a long moment before realizing his brain was making the right interpretation of what his eyes saw. The bed was empty. He switched on the bedside lamp for closer examination. Spying the white paper folded on the bedside table, his heart began to beat rapidly in his chest.
As he read her missive, panic set in.
