- Chapter Fifty-Six -
Maybe It's A Lot Unhealthy
Easily mid-day, a certain kind of quietness had fallen when there should have been a bevy of other noises. Brightly colored birds soaring through a cornflower sky any other day, there ought to have been splendid feathers splayed in twice as many hues as they had warbled and twitters. Land ever expanding to accommodate the booming population, maybe there was construction for some neighboring project or even an expansion to the hotel itself. There were always guests filing in and out, tourists and locals, so why not tack on a fancy new suite?
On that note, instead of a droll afternoon in, they should have been able to hear honeymooners through the walls. A real, actual couple; not just two hurting people looking for a shred of solace, a slice of normalcy and companionship that fled every time either one of them turned around. Too personal? That last example sounded a tad too personal.
For whatever noises there should have been in the background, the fledgling storm didn't care. Nothing against the scope of nature, there were only two things Sam could make out: the most prominent of which was the silvery sheets of rain lashing across the building. Thunder bellyaching across the land, in a bizarre way, it was almost homey.
Because that was completely normal.
Power still out with no indication that it would be back anytime soon, the chaser of chalices and Chaucer was glad that they had made it to cover when they had. Not quite bad enough to look like a hurricane, trying to find a suitable spot to hunker down for the duration of the storm would have been worse than a nightmare. Although on paper no place was perfect.
Safe and cozy in bed, even under the covers the room had grown chilly. Built to be airy, being on a tropical island getaway there was only so much need for heat. Although even summer nights could get cold, so every room boasted that it came with a heater (and an overhead fan for the other end of the spectrum). Whether or not they worked properly another matter, any such device was worthless without electricity to run it.
Inky indigo throughout, the ashen halo had long since faded into the gloom, nothing brighter than an icy silhouette visible in the wan light. Her silhouette, fingers frozen over a wintry lake. Strewn about as if they were tracks through the permafrost, the folds in the spearmint sheets ran deep; Daniella had griped the fabric for dear life as consciousness fled, and even in sleep she held fast.
"Dells, you awake?" Voice small against the backdrop of heaven's tantrum, there wasn't much of a reason to ask when she was down for the count.
Coming down from his own high, the thief couldn't help but be drawn to the summation of the Adler fortune.
Hair tousled in a very unseemly fashion, the newly loped strands tickled her shoulders prior to having the blankets pulled up to her head. Caught beneath the crisp fabric, were the lights not out he might have caught the golden mane shifting from bleached platinum to ashen ectoplasm. Too tangled to be called straight, sweat had knotted entire sections (grabbing her head directly probably hadn't helped). Although the lying Lothario didn't have an overly strong preference one way or another, the man was visited by a flash of the dark brown curls he had seen standing in his door that first night.
It had been raining then too, he recalled. What was it about Daniella that seemed to attract a steady downpour? More a blend of gray and blue than a true shade of either, there wasn't anything else in nature that came remotely close to being the same color as the heiress's sapphires.
Blue steel not the only remarkable hue about the young woman, the collection of marks her body was accruing did no favors. Too much tan - all courtesy of alabaster medical gauze and naked bandages - the rainbow of wounds varied from the rosy pink of healing tissue to the battered brown of old bruises. Sure, there was a little yellow-green where the restraints had dug in, but mostly it was all a show of purple, mauve, and plum. Half accidental, from any angle he gazed at the girl, there was at least one that was all him.
Hickeys something he thought he'd left behind in the 80's, for one fleeting moment the heiress wasn't her own... Mouth hovering over the back of her shoulder longer than it needed to, teeth scrapping almost cannibalistically across that pretty expanse of flesh, nearly everything in his brain had been switched off. Everything, apart from the primal urge to leave his mark.
Too drunk to think of their afternoon delight as more than what it was, the masterclass in disaster had murmured something like approval. Not entirely a promise, the sultry song she sang was more than a whisper, a kind of acknowledgement that in their moment, their two bodies were liquid fire. A carnal sin glazed in lost gold, white-hot heat from a blue flame that consumed all.
Without putting too fine a point on it, the heiress was not Rafael's, nor the next one that came along to sweep her off her unbalanced feet. For just that one instant, she wasn't even Rafe's.
From the moment they tripped into bed until the union of liquor and pain won the war, Daniella was all his. Ensnared so much sooner before that, if he hadn't known any better, Sam might have thought that the impressionable young woman was not unlike an addict. Hooked on the drama, hooked on sweet numbness, hooked on him. Knowing a thing or two about the struggle and the fall, it was hardly a mystery how a young, bright thing like her had ended up where dreams went to die.
Still navy throughout the room, there was some small relief that he couldn't really see the young woman.
Nestled snug as a bug in a rug against the dimpled headboard, as Sam struggled to relax in the sound of silence, the man kept coming back to one thing: nicotine. More than anything else, a cigarette would have been nice. Great, if not downright divine in fact. Not exactly a member of the quitter's circuit these days, the problem was that the package was tucked away in his pocket... and thanks to a certain event, his clothes were scattered across the other side of the room. Out in the cold.
Smoke denied the historian, Sam's mind began to wander as he laid in bed with the heiress.
First it was off to the races, his brain clinging desperately to the numbers and statistics from the day; anything - literally anything - was better than to focus on the lack of nicotine. Odds, evens, probabilities, and even down to the receipt from the vendor today, there was no stone left unturned.
After the betting pools and figures had run into one melted plastic mass, Francis Drake's alleged descendant turned to the future. More specifically, his niece's birthday. Would Cassie really like her gift? With only an afternoon free to shop on short notice, there was only so much that he could do until he was able to get her a proper present. Daniella had tried, but in her defense the teen was in a bit of a stupor, mind frozen to a point at some specific time or place.
Which time, which place? Questioning if he was even in a position to wonder that much, his thoughts shifted to what the others might make of the young woman.
Ella, they said her name was. A little too close to Daniella, but at least it would be simple enough to remember - personally Sam found that it was easier to remember your lie when you anchored it to a truth.
Wanted by some very bad people for witnessing something she shouldn't have, she was a socialite that he had agreed to protect in addition to her usual bodyguard, Rafael. It was a story that might fool the likes of Mary-Elizabeth, but that was about it. Cutter and his boys were sharper than that, they would almost definitely see through the disguise... But would they approve?
... Did his senses fail, or was the quiet part of the eternal bachelor's brain seriously just pondering if his family friends would like a girl he brought home? Chalking it up to being tired and stressed, Sam waved that line of thought on. As an adult, he'd invited plenty of dates to family functions like this in the past, and never once had he stopped to wonder how the plus one would be received.
Besides, Daniella wasn't those women.
"Dells?"
Not likely to get an answer any time soon, Sam shimmed down the headrest and deeper into the covers. Closer to the young woman, every part of her radiating a very welcome heat. But it was only because of the warmth that he latched on to her prone figure.
Curled into the one place it was most likely to receive some semblance of shelter, it was almost sad that her body intuitively knew she could depend on the bed more than...
Raised with two parents in the international 'business' world, traveling would have played a big part of her life. Daddy holed up in the Saint Dismas cathedral and the shrew she called mom making deals all over the globe, it only made sense that Daniella's formative years had been spent sleeping in some grand penthouse, the housing country changing night after night.
To the Dells he knew, that hollow image of home was just that, an image. Hopping from one lavish suite to the next was her reality, at least until Bai had finally decided to leave the child to the nanny. Before that time eventually came, that form of living might have been one of the few stable things she had known since Scotland. That is, if she had ever known anything remotely stable.
Pulse thickened to a steady crawl, there wasn't the slightest reaction as Sam wrapped his arm across her bare collarbone and sunk into her side. Thumb brushing over the crusted scab on her shoulder, his chin rested on her clavicle, nose close enough to bury into her scalp. Fingers loose yet needy, with the smallest twist in her hips it wasn't long before the young woman was bent into the shape he needed, her spine curved against his torso.
So much closer than they would have been otherwise, like this, it was natural. Natural... Eyes cast down to drink in the shape of the heiress as she slept off the early stages of her inevitable hangover, as he held her in his arms, Sam wished once more for another cigarette.
Knock, knock.
Matter of fact, the rapt on the wood could only be called smart, the product of a calculated, born professional. Naturally his mind went to it being hotel staff, room service with credit and an apology for the prolonged power outage. Maybe even some sort of time frame of when to expect the lights to come back on, but at this point a (paid) profound sorry would have sufficed.
Quite possibly it might have been one of the gang, his little brother or one of the other career criminals coming to check in. That seemed less likely though, given that his phone still had enough battery life to receive calls.
Granted with how full his hands had been, the man might have missed said call, but knowing Nathan, he would have tried at least twice if it was important. From what he'd heard, his little brother had done his damnedest to stay on frequency with Sullivan when they were on the field. Having Cassie had only sharped that 'gotta stay in touch' mentality, and that had come from Elena. Being the next offender on the list of suspects, Chloe would have blown his phone up just to be Chloe. Because of course she would, the scamp.
Five more minutes. Everyone who ever slept in ever, the grizzled brunette was reluctant to part from the toasty embers of embrace.
Despite how one-sided their position currently was, Daniella fit like a glove. Warmed like one too. Everything was comfortable where it was, from the firm feather pillow to the second heat source snuggled complacently against his chest. The exact opposite of copping a feel, this was nice too, bordering on something he could see himself getting used to.
Although this was probably important, whatever it was.
Were his life something that could be replayed again and again for entertainment value, what happened next could be the subject of an eternal debate amongst the prospective fandom. Maybe not on the level of a pop culture war being necessary, but if one cared enough to obsess over the details with a fine-toothed comb...
Protest louder than any storm, the weary bones of the adventurer popped as he slipped out of the bed. Each joint creaking, the sweat that had previously coated his body had turned against him, adding to the congealing coldness that spread without mercy. Suppressing a shiver out of habit, nothing he had experienced in Panama could scratch the surface of what he felt now.
Stiff in a way that was neither entirely good nor bad, it felt as if he had been put through his paces. Maybe showing off a little, on the chance that that really was going to be the last time, Sam wanted to be memorable - he might have been the first, but that didn't mean he had to set the bar low.
"Allow me." Speaking to Co-ed Barbie as if she could respond in kind, Sam swung around his side of the bed. Feet hitting the cheap imitation wood that made this possible, he paused for just a moment.
Moment worth questioning a trick of the camera, there were only so many editing tricks that could have helped. Gently patting the top of the covers, the thief rose.
Balance an old friend that wasn't ready to open the front door for their guest, the active historian fumbled his way to the end table for the spare pack of smokes before anything else. There was absolutely no way in hell that he was going to be bothered to search out his lighter; Sam just desired the familiarity. The little taste of nicotine that was slowly leading him to his grave with its poison kiss. Placing the limp white cylinder between his lips, he listened for the person outside the door.
Knock, knock. Whoever it was, they were tenacious.
Life having no hand in it whatsoever, the elder Drake brother was suspicious by trade. Family too close for comfort should things go south, this was kinda like a soft vacation, so the man was in no mood to deal with work. Or taking the extra time it would require to get dressed.
Lingering in the invisible mist that was seeping through the bones of man and building alike, it was not fun being exposed in such a manner. Not to mention what a hassle it would have been to bumble through the blackness in order to find his clothes. It might not have been the favorite solution/compromise, but there was a perfectly good robe hanging on a peg in the bathroom.
Knock, knock. There was definitely less space between the knocking now.
Thoroughly annoyed at that juncture, he wasn't even the one that would be hearing every tiny sound like it was a jackhammer in the city. Jesus!
Cigarettes and booze in enough places around the temporary living arrangement, while it was nothing compared to how well he had stocked his last room, there was a surprise in just about every corner. Drawing the heavy metal piece he'd stashed from the inside of hotel property, the ex-con hid the gun behind the frame as he reached for the door.
Too dark for a peephole anyways, Sam braced himself for the worst. Going taut as the string of a longbow, before twisting the knob he lobbed a worried glance back over his shoulder. In the light, the bed was almost a straight shot from the door. Anyone with even half decent aim could inflict heavy damage in a blindfire, although this didn't feel like one of those types of situations. If it were, the bullets would have been fired already.
Still, he didn't like it.
Knock-
Face within an inch of replacing the aluminum alloy, the grizzled gentleman escorting the younger woman really wished that he had just stayed in bed. Twice as much as he'd wished for anything else in this past hour or so, easily. And it went without saying how bad he was jonsing for a legitimate smoke.
Why me? Toasty in the midst of a damp, stormy void, the view wasn't awful, even if his mind was beginning to wander down avenues it probably shouldn't.
Unlit cigarette dipping in his jaw, for all his speculating the thief hadn't thought to expect anyone he knew. Let alone the fierce mother tigress of the barely legal cub he had squirreled way.
"Bai!"
Perfume weighing the damp air down even further, there was positively no mistaking the stench of Chanel number Bitch and jasmine. The high pile of star-struck ebony almost a trademark at this point, the prim cut of her suit was dapper even without the means of being able to fully appreciate the detail.
"You're here!" Voice an octave away from his equivalent of a squeak, even in a state of genuine surprise, the lanky lout thought himself capable of only being able to muster up a barb-wired exchange when it involved such an infuriating individual.
Although the world would probably end up being a better place for it, he set the gun on the circular end table before shots were fired. Most anyone else could bite that the murder would have been an accident, but the man figured that he had probably done enough to the girl for one day. Especially where her parents were concerned.
Hastily edging to obscure the tangle of sheet and limb on the bed, he discovered that the wooden floor had yet to absorb the puddle of unopened whiskey from last night. Or had it been bourbon? There were too many moving pieces to be bothered by such an inconsequential detail, although if it came back up he might find a minute to mourn. Gingerly stepping through the slick mess on the ground, Sam slithered around the vertical divide and shut the door at his back with a curt snap.
Far from meaning it kindly, he opted to rephrase himself with the hope that the land shark was too far up her own ass to notice anything suspicious. "Not that there isn't someone somewhere that wouldn't be tickled pink to see you, what the hell are you doing here?!"
Here, as in just outside the hotel room where your little girl is recovering from all the major pitfalls of adolescence at once.
Reflective shine nigh otherworldly, another dead give away to the fact that it was Rafe's baby mama was the woman's glasses. Silvery highlight obscuring maybe five percent of the raw hatred in her eyes, the businesswoman was not happy. Doubtful that she ever was, Bai screamed the type of person that had genuinely only had three or four truly great days in their lives.
Displeasure indisputable, the woman wrinkled her nose and shook her head like she was looking at the Yelp page of a new business, trying to decided on the worst possible review to give. "Took you long enough."
Evidently the man of ambition had been looking at this natural semi-disaster the wrong way. Not to discredit facts or faith the full one hundred percent, initially the weather had seemed like what a good Catholic boy might refer to as an act of God. Made sense in a way, coming out of nowhere and striking the peasants blind when science ought to have brightened the world. However, that was wrong: now that Bai was there, Sam knew this lasting dark to be of the devil herself.
Body barring entrance to the scene of the crime, Sam leaned against the portal casually, sparing just a moment to search for a lighter that wasn't there. "Well," he gave up the hunt, moving the cigarette to behind his ear for later, "someone had to make sure that it wasn't anyone looking to hurt our girl."
Already dismissed in the woman's spectacled eyes, Bai didn't stop to ponder those words. In her head, there was a thief and the cash cow the heiress represented. Whatever else she may have believed happened between the two up until that point, it wasn't worth taking under consideration. "Speaking of, where is that girl?"
Lie falling into place, Drake shrugged with smug nonchalance to match what he got, "She's not here."
Ears ringing with an almighty death dirge, that troublesome one Rafe had picked up from Panama failed her, causing a deep frown to stretch across her confident countenance. If he wasn't protecting her daughter, what good had it been bringing him in on this job? She had called Sam for a reason...
Speaking of Sam, Bai looked at the man for the first time. Really looked.
In her twisted mind there wasn't a moment in recorded history that Sam Drake wasn't the bottom of the barrel. No, he was lower than that, the parasite on the barnacle that fastened itself to the broken cask. His crime wasn't being born poor or to the wrong family, nor was it that he was an unsavory character cut from a dirty cloth. The reason she loathed him so was simple: the most important person in her life needed him... Desired him. Trusted him, even.
Mature enough now to realize that this had filled her with a terrible jealousy, she played with her glasses, acting as if she were straightening them. "Evidently not. Heaven forbid you go five minutes without using your cock."
Sloven at the best of times, this time the tracker of treasure was even more disheveled than usual, leaving only so much mystery as to what he has been up to. And that was merely on a visual level. "Tell me one thing - did you at least make sure she'd be looked after, or did you just drop her off at your brother's place so you could get laid?"
Bai was hardly a fan of Nathan's, but at least he hadn't almost stolen away the one she loved. Until he did.
Wounded pride an act that he had down pat, this time the drama queen didn't have to fake being offended by the accusation, hand flying up to clutch his runaway heart, "Firstly, it's every ten minutes, thank you. Also, nice language. You kiss your daughter with that mouth?" Yep, there was scowl he knew so well. "Second, I'll have you know my little brother is very capable of looking after Dells."
"Dells?" Chortling at the gross boorishness of the nickname, she could only imagine how her offspring had taken the show of affection. Oh, that was right, Daniella was her daughter. "Cute," it was plain that she couldn't have found the name stupider if she tried, but a wasted effort when you'll be out of her life soon."
Would he though?
Head rolling perpendicular to the door, the first half came as if his neck were attempting a very owlish 360 degree turn. Whereas the beginning had been automatic, the man was very aware of where the trend was leading; catching the motion as it happened, he was quick to mirror himself. Writing it off as a mere stretch would have been better, yet he knew what he was doing.
Rather, where he was looking.
Chalking the initial thought up to rebellion more than anything else, his body had an answer to the contrary. Moths, pennies, magnets, whatever they were this time, Samuel could practically feel the pull even then. By all rights he should have been done with Daniella, or at least close enough to line things up for a finish that could only be clean with a fabled kind of luck that neither of them possessed.
All things considered, it really might all end in a sea of ashes. Guiding attachment not quite emotional, there was definitely something there, a carnal urge that could not be quelled. A cat that could not be tamed, a wild fire that would not be extinguished until it burned down the whole field.
Libertalia a story still worth telling, Bai made a point that Sam couldn't disagree with. Not truly. Even supposing that Dells had all the facts - which at this point she did not - there had been a pretty concrete agreement about this being the last time. Although... This had been a heat-of-the-moment type of fling, fanned by the fumes of a few drinks too many. If it had happened once, who was to say that it wouldn't happen again?
"We'll see." He saluted the death of detachment with a callous shrug meant to annoy the mother, "You never know, I just might do such a good job that I get hired on again."
Under the curse, how could they possibly move forward from this? It would have been sick if she wanted anything to do with him past this point, and so far as he told himself, Sam was only interested in the short-term happiness she could give him. And yet...
Dangerously teetering into the territory of being addictive, he seriously could have gone for something pale and slender that could fit into his mouth, something with a little kick.
Dark hanging like a velvet curtain, her lips had gone from rose red to deathly jet. "Yes, we shall see. Now," very stylistic, the light reflected off Bai's lenses in a way that said there was no way in hell that would happen, "get dressed and take me to see my daughter."
Sam obviously couldn't do that.
In part, because the young woman wasn't at Nathan's at all; bundled up safe and sound, she was just on the other side of the door. Bigger than trivial things like physical whereabouts, there was also the matter of a certain promise he had made to a very unstable little girl. A promise that he meant to keep, even if he had technically fallen into a space between a moral gray area and a loophole.
Language not limited to the verbal, the man shook his mane of peppered auburn, stalling while he raked his brain for a better alternative, "Better idea, you wait out where I can call and make sure she's with Nathan."
Eyes damn-near popping out of her skull, it couldn't have been made any more plain that his answer had raised the older woman's dander, "Make sure? You mean you don't know?!"
Alright, so maybe in hindsight saying it that way wasn't the wisest of options, but it wasn't like there was a winning scenario in her dialogue wheel. Astutely gathering that his paycheck was on the verge of taking a hit, he kept spinning his tale. Thinking all the while of an exit strategy, the man realized that he had been sitting on answer this whole time.
Apologetic the last thing he would be with the shrew that had set all of this into motion, Sam scratched the back of his neck, "I mean, I left her with Nathan, but a lot can happen in thirty minutes. Dells could be out somewhere with Rafael or taking pictures of the beach with Chloe." Because that was a brilliant excuse when there was blackout.
"Who? And who?" Being away for a considerable part of this madcap misadventure, it was natural that the woman had missed quite a few chapters. However, provided that she had been there with her daughter every step of the way, he had the feeling that she wouldn't have paid much attention to the little things. Or even some of the big ones.
"They're... friendly. Enough."
Well, they didn't pose an immediate threat the way those Orange Tiger assholes did. Rafael was still highly debatable in his book, yet this was all in theory anyways. As for the other one, Bai definitely must have heard of Chloe Frazer, but on the off chance that she hadn't, he knew that it was easier to just leave it bare bones.
"Oh, I'm so comforted to hear that!" Frazzled enough to almost sound like she cared, Sam knew Bai better than that. Although he did have to hand it to her - the sarcasm was strong with this one. "No," firm, she touched the side of her frames once more, "here's what's gonna happen: you're going to go kick your little whore out, get dressed, and take me to find my child."
"Mom voice." Bai took control of the situation as she had done innumerable times in the past, yet this time the businesswoman had been woefully misinformed. While he couldn't have the pleasure of rubbing it in her face and keeping everything intact, the thief did the next best thing and mocked the rabid shark, "Very sexy." Sam wore his best shit-eating grin, just for her.
"How about you go fuck yourself and help me find my child." Bad enough that she had started her day on a flimsy metal deathtrap, waking up to a prolonged power outage had done little for her nerves. "You know, the young woman you're supposed to be watching?"
Oh, he'd been doing his job. Just maybe not in the way Bai would want to hear about, "I promise you, she's fine. Well, maybe not fine, but she's in one piece."
Doing that freaky demonic thing they did in the movies, he could have sworn that her head swiveled around and up, eyes glowing an angry red. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Well, he supposed that Bai would have to find out about the damage done to his client sooner or later, but was it really so wrong to hope it was never? Sucking in the air through his teeth, Sam pulled out his cigarette and put it back in his mouth before remembering that there was no way to light it up. Great, just peachy. "There was a small snag with some of your Triad friends. Turns out that they employ a couple of psychos."
Psychos? Her father had a exceptionally strict vetting process for any member of the Association that had sufficient clearance to such an important individual, however that was back home in the mainland. Yahui's cousin must have been the one to employ such lose cannons... The very same cousin Baba was so intent that her daughter marry.
"And?" The businesswoman had a hunch as to who little Jian might have hired, but something told her that there was more to this status update.
"They really did a number on her. I don't know how independent Daniella was before all this, but she's not particularly keen about being left alone these days." It wasn't fishing if it was true.
Tsking, the bespectacled beauty rolled her eyes, long ebony lashes catching the faint light streaming in through the window atop the staircase. "Lovely. Since I'm here, I suppose that I'll have to do something about that." There was plainly nothing she was looking forward to less - no wonder Dells seemed so messed up and quick to pick up the bottle.
Never before had a mother-daughter scene sounded so utterly unappealing. "Try to hold back some of that enthusiasm, would ya?" Seriously, depressing as the image of Bai and Daniella reuniting was, the empty hallway felt a lot colder than it had ten seconds ago. "Look, just give me thirty minutes. I might have to hog tie her to get her to you, but I'll bring her in."
Bai was not loving that ballpark number, or the suggestion that her daughter was that reluctant to see her, however she at least had a say in one of those things. "Twenty."
While the heiress was stashed just inside, that kind of timetable was technically within the realm of possibility, but... It just would have been preferable to have some time to try and sober the girl up first, and frankly, thirty minutes was already pushing it. Sure he could throw some lukewarm water on the body and pump her full of old coffee from the lobby, but that could only do so much to make things seem... normal?
Doubtful, she scoffed, "The island doesn't seem that big."
Actually the island was a lot bigger than it seemed, so much so that he wasn't entirely sure that Nathan and his family had seen every bare inch. "There are a couple different places she might have gone before the storm." Not really a lie, Sam shook his head and spoke down to Bai as if she were the average, run-of-the-mill bad costumer, "Look lady, just be happy I know this place well enough to give you that much."
Agitation mounting, the woman was wasting so much time with the babysitter that she may as well have not even bothered deciding it would be worth it to see her little girl in the first place. "You're a paragon of kindness."
Flattery was always appreciated, but something told him that it was less than sincere coming from the harpy in human flesh. "Just go back to your room, I'll find you once I have her."
Brow arching pointedly beneath a pitch black curtain, Bai gestured abruptly towards the ceiling, tone incredulous, "You want me to go back upstairs, in the dark?" Well if she was going to say it like that, the adventurer didn't much mind the picture of the woman sporting a cast, however even that would probably find a way to bite him in the ass.
Still, it was better than the alternative. "Would you rather stay?" Please say no, please say no! Eyes bugging ever so slightly, realizing what he had just invited a moment too late, Samuel was immensely relieved by her answer. Even if Dells hadn't been passed out naked on the bed, he really did not savor the notion of spending any more time conversing with the woman than he already had.
'Eww' written clear as day across her face even in the nocturnal dimness, Bai shook her head to emphasize her disgust, "No. But what I can do is kick your little friend out while you get ready." Thinking she was being proactive, Bai made the first move for the door. "I can wait in your room on case Daniella comes back."
Nope. That was not a good thing. "I can deal with one girl," Sam inched over so that he was blocking the doorknob from the businesswoman, "I do that all the time. You just... wait out here."
Yep, that was totally convincing.
Gaze narrowing, the spectacled diva had to question why he was being so cagey. "I understand if you're scared your little whore is going to steal something," she'd seen it happen to Rafe countless times when she had been his bodyguard, "but you're acting like a man that's trying to hide something..." Trailing off ominously, she allowed just enough time for Sam to dread what she would say next, "Something about your friend."
What could he possibly say to that?!
"Aww," Bai was prepared to shoulder her way through Sam if she had to, but under the circumstances she found it considerably more prudent to playfully smack his cheek, acting out of mirth as opposed to wrath, "it's adorable that you think I care!"
Deeply bothered by the condescending manhandling, Sam copied her almost exactly, pinching instead of smacking, "No, I really don't. But aren't you just adorable for thinking otherwise!"
Leering through the gloom, with the speed of a cobra the former bodyguard had struck her opposition in the gut. None too appreciative of the turnabout, she shoved the wizened geezer aside and reached a clawed hand out for the doorknob. Catching her at the last possible second, Sam grunted through the liver he was trying to cough up. Forget about the casualty that was his poor cigarette.
"Alright," wheezing in a surrender that was anything but sweet, his black tar lungs could barely function, "I'll take you to your kid. Just give me a minute to get her in the shower and on her way."
More affronted that he dared to touch her then hearing the humane way he spoke of his playthings, Bai wrenched the dirty thief off her four hundred dollar jacket. "How generous of you. But no, you took too long."
Opening the door while he was still largely incapacitated, the pair of bangs with glasses glared over a pinstriped shoulder at the miserable security she had hired, "I'm going to get the hooker out of your hair while you get dressed." Stilettos clomping over the hardwood, she scoffed, "Pick yourself up, you look like hell."
"Eh..." Panting from the unexpected force of what the woman was still capable of after all these years, he had little choice but to follow after the barbarian as she stomped into the bedroom.
Ownership, materialism, and snobbishness three traits that come with running a sizable chunk of the world, the woman traipsed into the room like it was nothing. Ignorant of who was really laying curled up beneath the covers, all Bai saw was a huddled figure, a useless vapor in human form. Absolutely disgusted by the layabout and the way that they had opted to take the easy way out, she ripped the blankets off, exposing the presumed prostitute to the glacial air that all but froze the room solid.
Sheets hitting the ground at normal speed (although it would have been honeyed slo-mo in a nightmare version), there was nothing Sam could do or say to keep Bai from her daughter. Game over.
"Oh, for the love of!" Filling in the blank with her own personal deity, the businesswoman threw up both arms in aggravation. Callous action jolting the faux-blonde with all the speed of a tortoise, the spectacled shrew realized that the younger female had been drinking. Heavily.
Air carrying a tad more than love tonight, the gelid temperature ran a long finger up and down Daniella's spine, causing her to shiver and blink at a snail's pace. Closing her eyes stubbornly, the young woman on the bed felt around for a blanket that was no longer within reach. Still not seeing the room beyond her lashes, the heiress sought out Sam. After all, he was the next best thing to a blanket in the cold.
Getting nowhere in a hurry, Bai adopted another familiar role from the mother's handbook, picking up random pieces of clothing from the floor. One thing felt like it was probably a shirt. Figuring the need for alcohol to be par for the course, the black widow proceeded to toss the discarded scraps at the younger's back and side.
"Sam...?" Speech still slurred, this time it was difficult to tell if that had been the effect of the liquor or just the huskiness that sometimes came from sleep. Glancing over at where the article of fabric had bounced off, Dells attempted to figure out what was happening. Where they under attack?
"Urgh," mother dearest gave up trying to drop hints and just yanked the girl out of the bed, "you're a mess! I was going to tell you to just take your money and go, but if you're this hammered this early in the day, you clearly have bigger issues than just selling yourself to old men." Daniella resisted being dragged off the bed like anyone would have, but Bai was determined to get rid of the man's rented harlot. "Get out of my way!" Barking at Sam, the businesswoman shoved him away from the door to dispose of the trash.
Watching her protector getting knocked back to the side, Daniella slowly clued in that there was second, bossier individual calling the shots all of a sudden. Glasses weren't unique to the woman, yet the blonde couldn't help but go that place as she was forced towards the open door. "Mom?"
Imagining the sweet little homebody that had dozed off in the library reading her father's old books, Bai snorted at the tramp in her iron grip, "Not even close. Go home and sober up! And stop selling yourself, your real mother must be so disappointed in you!"
Everything had transpired so quickly, but Sam was pretty sure he had just seen the dictionary definition of an absent parent. Granted their world was all shadow, blues and blacks with the rare highlight, and the hair was too new, but still, maybe she should have slowed down enough to really look at young woman. Bai was hardly a saint by any means, but to witness a woman so uninvolved in her daughter's life that she had just thrown said offspring naked into a public hallway was sad.
Maybe he wasn't the only one who needed a smoke...