"You have no idea," I whisper, as we sit on the car, surveying the scene
and waiting for Vivian to call. Once she does, we head for the front door.
********
I knock on the door. "Mr. Hunter, we're with the FBI," I announce.
"Go away!" he shouts in response. I can hear his footsteps on the other side of the door.
"Are you Jim Hunter?"
"Who's asking?"
"We have a warrant for your arrest," Danny retorts as I eye him skeptically.
"You think that will work?" I whisper towards him.
"What do you want?" Hunter opens the door slowly, letting us see only his face.
I push the door in, forcing our way inside. "We're here on the murder of Carol Hunter," I answer, attempting to push him against the wall as I feel a gun in his hand rising to meet my head. The cold metal hits where I already have a bruise and I groan in pain, kneeing the guy in the crotch. His body buckles as the gun drops to the floor and I put him in cuffs. Moments later I hear squad cars, as they take him away.
"She'll have to identify him," Danny reminds me as we walk back for his car.
"Yeah," I whisper, slightly dazed and feeling as though everything is surreal.
"Samantha, are you sure you're all right? You look sick."
"I feel sick," I whisper, taking a seat in his car and closing my eyes.
"What's wrong?"
I shake my head no. I don't want to remember the awful memories of my uncle, but they're played over and over again when such horrific cases make their way into my life.
I remember him coming to live with my mother and me, after my father left us. She needed the help--and the money. He took both from her and offered nothing in return. He was a drunk with a nasty attitude. Aren't they all?
He'd come home late at night from the bars, smelling of stale smoke and liquor. I'd sit on the couch, curl into a ball and pretend to be asleep, so he wouldn't lay a hand on me.
I was too young and too afraid to do anything---I wanted to, though---I needed to.
When he was sober, he was an asshole. He pretended to be my father; he acted as though I should worship him, and for what?
If only my real father wouldn't have left. If only Marcus wouldn't have moved in, then I wouldn't have grown up afraid. I vowed I'd never become like my mother--dependent on a man who you would love and he would leave, or dependent on a relative who would only come to hurt you.
I promised myself never to love and never to be hurt because that was the worst thing a person could endure.
"Samantha?" I hear Danny's voice and notice us already at the Bureau. "You've been quiet," he mentions, slipping out from the car and moving around to open my door.
"Just thinking."
"Eva will be all right," he answers. "I know what you're thinking about, Samantha."
"Please don't," I shake my head. "I don't need you feeling sorry for me."
"Don't mistake empathy for pity," he answers, escorting me to the elevator.
We head inside and I notice Vivian packing up. "Goodnight," she tells us, slipping on her jacket and heading out.
I notice Jack and Eva sitting in his office talking. I can only wonder about what.
"Samantha," I hear Martin's words and spin around to see him with his coat on. "You want to catch a drink later?"
"Thanks, but I've got Eva to look after," I tell him.
Danny walks off to his desk, leaving Martin standing beside me. "You're not still mad about what I said, are you?" Martin questions.
"I suppose I'm disappointed," I answer him. "I expected more from you. I should have known better." I shrug with a sigh. "I'll see you tomorrow," I tell him sadly, stepping towards Jack's office and knocking to see him waving me inside.
"Hey, Sam," I hear his voice calling me that name and my eyes tear up. "I heard about the case." I stand in his office, feeling my walls breaking but not wanting anyone to see. "Eva, would you mind sitting out there for a few minutes?" Jack asks her politely.
"Not at all," she answers, standing up and heading out the door, closing it behind her.
"Samantha," he whispers. "I know you're identifying with this case."
"No," I shake my head, not wanting to admit it.
"Then what is it?"
"Jack," I whisper, falling into the seat with a sigh. My eyes stare at my hands in my lap, not wanting to meet his gaze. I hear his movements and feel his shadow looming over me. His hand moves to rest on my shoulder, as he leans on his desk. "I miss him," I whisper out, hardly above a breath.
"Your father?" Jack clarifies as I nod my head with tears trickling down my cheeks.
"Sam."
"He was the only one I ever allowed to call me that." I shake my head no, willing the tears to stop falling---no such luck.
"Samantha," he starts over. I feel his hands on mine as he leans down to try and embrace me in a hug. "I'm so sorry," he tells me, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.
"Why?" I whisper, shaking my head. "We're supposed to find missing people, but why can't I find the one person I want to find? It's not fair," I cry out, feeling my tears soak through his shirt.
"You know we can't find them all," he reminds me.
"The one I want to find, though, I can't."
"Sam," his voice is soft and reassuring. "What would you say to him if you did see him again?"
"I'd want to know why he left my mother and me."
"What good could come from that?"
"Maybe we could make up for lost time," I whisper, shaking my head and rubbing my eyes to dry them. "I'm sorry." I pull back, trying to get a hold of myself.
"Don't be." He brushes the sticky hair from my forehead as I feel his eyes on my face. I stare at his soaked-through shirt, not taking the chance of seeing something more in his gaze.
"Come home with me," I whisper in a daze, not even realizing the words before they've escaped my lips. My eyes glance into his, worried of disappointment.
He nods his head, taking my hand and giving it a soft kiss. "Let me grab my coat," he answers, slipping it on and walking with me out the door.
I wipe my face, trying not to let Eva see I've been crying, although it's fairly obvious. "You okay, Samantha?"
"Yeah," I whisper with a sigh. I hand her my car keys. "You drive home; Jack and I will be back later."
"All right," Eva says as she pulls me in for a hug and smiles up at Jack. "Take good care of her," she warns him before I grab my jacket and we all head down to the parking garage.
Jack and I head for his car and I take a seat in the passenger side, relaxing into the cushions.
"I'm sorry I can't bring him back," Jack tells me, taking my hand in his as we pull out for the street.
"I suppose I blame him for everything that's happened." I stare straight ahead, not willing Jack to look at me, or me to him. "If he wouldn't have left, my mother wouldn't have been so messed up. My uncle never would have moved in and I wouldn't be this way," I laugh softly.
"I love you just the way you are," Jack tells me. I feel his eyes burning through mine.
"Yeah, well I don't," I answer. "I hate what my life has become." I quickly glance towards Jack's hurt look. "Please don't take that the wrong way. I mean look at me, Jack, I'm a mess and a failure at so much. How many long-term relationships have I had? How many times have I been in love? How many times have I been with a guy and wanted him to even stay the night?" I laugh at the absurdity of it. "I'd be better off--"
Jack cuts me off, "Don't even say it." His voice is sharp as he pulls over to the side of the road. He unbuckles his seatbelt and his body sends a shiver down my spine at the look he's giving me.
"It's true," I answer.
"Samantha," he blows out an annoyed breath and steps out from the car, slamming the door forcefully. I feel more tears rising in my eyes, and lean my head in my hands, crying my heart out.
"Why can't anyone love me?" I whisper for no one to hear. I feel a cool gust of air and see the passenger side open.
"Do you think your death would accomplish something?" His eyes look furious and his body is telling me he's more than ready to pick a fight.
"I didn't---" I pause, feeling the tears no longer coming but my heart broken nonetheless. "Jack, can you take me home?"
"Why? So you can end all this? That's the most selfish thing I've ever heard from you!" He unclasps my seatbelt and pulls me from the car.
"Jack, you're hurting me!" I feel my stomach knot at his anger. His hand burns my wrist as he pulls me into the grassy path, keeping me away from traffic. I glare down at his hand and he loosens his grip, but not enough to let me go. "I'm not going to run," I tell him, meeting his gaze as he drops my hand.
"No you won't run---you'll leave me instead. It figures," he shakes his head. "I've tried everything in my life to get away from my own mother's death and you have to throw it right in my face."
"Jack," I feel more tears forming and see his own red eyes. "You know I never meant---"
"Of course you didn't," he cuts me off. "No one does." He regards me with scorn as he walks back to the car and slams the door
For a moment, I continue standing in the cold, worried he'll leave me. I slowly head to the car, slip inside and take a seat, waiting for him to pull out in traffic.
"Jack, I'm so sorry," I whisper, feeling tears in my eyes as I glance towards him. His face looks angry and his skin is a deep shade of red. He pulls in front of my apartment, stopping the car and sitting there, waiting. "Come up," I tell him, taking his hand as I feel his body slowly soften in my grip.
"Maybe we need some time apart. We've been working together non-stop the past week."
"Jack," I answer with a shake of my head and a sigh. "You need a decent place to sleep. Are you going home at least?"
"No," he eyes his hands on the steering wheel.
"Then stay the night. I can sleep on the couch," I offer, hoping to straighten things out between us because he is the last person I want hating me.
"I'm not sure that's a wise decision."
"If you're worried about Maria---" he cuts me off by opening his door. I follow behind, heading up the stairs to the door. I don't question his sudden decision change, and I won't, because I want this.
********
I knock on the door. "Mr. Hunter, we're with the FBI," I announce.
"Go away!" he shouts in response. I can hear his footsteps on the other side of the door.
"Are you Jim Hunter?"
"Who's asking?"
"We have a warrant for your arrest," Danny retorts as I eye him skeptically.
"You think that will work?" I whisper towards him.
"What do you want?" Hunter opens the door slowly, letting us see only his face.
I push the door in, forcing our way inside. "We're here on the murder of Carol Hunter," I answer, attempting to push him against the wall as I feel a gun in his hand rising to meet my head. The cold metal hits where I already have a bruise and I groan in pain, kneeing the guy in the crotch. His body buckles as the gun drops to the floor and I put him in cuffs. Moments later I hear squad cars, as they take him away.
"She'll have to identify him," Danny reminds me as we walk back for his car.
"Yeah," I whisper, slightly dazed and feeling as though everything is surreal.
"Samantha, are you sure you're all right? You look sick."
"I feel sick," I whisper, taking a seat in his car and closing my eyes.
"What's wrong?"
I shake my head no. I don't want to remember the awful memories of my uncle, but they're played over and over again when such horrific cases make their way into my life.
I remember him coming to live with my mother and me, after my father left us. She needed the help--and the money. He took both from her and offered nothing in return. He was a drunk with a nasty attitude. Aren't they all?
He'd come home late at night from the bars, smelling of stale smoke and liquor. I'd sit on the couch, curl into a ball and pretend to be asleep, so he wouldn't lay a hand on me.
I was too young and too afraid to do anything---I wanted to, though---I needed to.
When he was sober, he was an asshole. He pretended to be my father; he acted as though I should worship him, and for what?
If only my real father wouldn't have left. If only Marcus wouldn't have moved in, then I wouldn't have grown up afraid. I vowed I'd never become like my mother--dependent on a man who you would love and he would leave, or dependent on a relative who would only come to hurt you.
I promised myself never to love and never to be hurt because that was the worst thing a person could endure.
"Samantha?" I hear Danny's voice and notice us already at the Bureau. "You've been quiet," he mentions, slipping out from the car and moving around to open my door.
"Just thinking."
"Eva will be all right," he answers. "I know what you're thinking about, Samantha."
"Please don't," I shake my head. "I don't need you feeling sorry for me."
"Don't mistake empathy for pity," he answers, escorting me to the elevator.
We head inside and I notice Vivian packing up. "Goodnight," she tells us, slipping on her jacket and heading out.
I notice Jack and Eva sitting in his office talking. I can only wonder about what.
"Samantha," I hear Martin's words and spin around to see him with his coat on. "You want to catch a drink later?"
"Thanks, but I've got Eva to look after," I tell him.
Danny walks off to his desk, leaving Martin standing beside me. "You're not still mad about what I said, are you?" Martin questions.
"I suppose I'm disappointed," I answer him. "I expected more from you. I should have known better." I shrug with a sigh. "I'll see you tomorrow," I tell him sadly, stepping towards Jack's office and knocking to see him waving me inside.
"Hey, Sam," I hear his voice calling me that name and my eyes tear up. "I heard about the case." I stand in his office, feeling my walls breaking but not wanting anyone to see. "Eva, would you mind sitting out there for a few minutes?" Jack asks her politely.
"Not at all," she answers, standing up and heading out the door, closing it behind her.
"Samantha," he whispers. "I know you're identifying with this case."
"No," I shake my head, not wanting to admit it.
"Then what is it?"
"Jack," I whisper, falling into the seat with a sigh. My eyes stare at my hands in my lap, not wanting to meet his gaze. I hear his movements and feel his shadow looming over me. His hand moves to rest on my shoulder, as he leans on his desk. "I miss him," I whisper out, hardly above a breath.
"Your father?" Jack clarifies as I nod my head with tears trickling down my cheeks.
"Sam."
"He was the only one I ever allowed to call me that." I shake my head no, willing the tears to stop falling---no such luck.
"Samantha," he starts over. I feel his hands on mine as he leans down to try and embrace me in a hug. "I'm so sorry," he tells me, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.
"Why?" I whisper, shaking my head. "We're supposed to find missing people, but why can't I find the one person I want to find? It's not fair," I cry out, feeling my tears soak through his shirt.
"You know we can't find them all," he reminds me.
"The one I want to find, though, I can't."
"Sam," his voice is soft and reassuring. "What would you say to him if you did see him again?"
"I'd want to know why he left my mother and me."
"What good could come from that?"
"Maybe we could make up for lost time," I whisper, shaking my head and rubbing my eyes to dry them. "I'm sorry." I pull back, trying to get a hold of myself.
"Don't be." He brushes the sticky hair from my forehead as I feel his eyes on my face. I stare at his soaked-through shirt, not taking the chance of seeing something more in his gaze.
"Come home with me," I whisper in a daze, not even realizing the words before they've escaped my lips. My eyes glance into his, worried of disappointment.
He nods his head, taking my hand and giving it a soft kiss. "Let me grab my coat," he answers, slipping it on and walking with me out the door.
I wipe my face, trying not to let Eva see I've been crying, although it's fairly obvious. "You okay, Samantha?"
"Yeah," I whisper with a sigh. I hand her my car keys. "You drive home; Jack and I will be back later."
"All right," Eva says as she pulls me in for a hug and smiles up at Jack. "Take good care of her," she warns him before I grab my jacket and we all head down to the parking garage.
Jack and I head for his car and I take a seat in the passenger side, relaxing into the cushions.
"I'm sorry I can't bring him back," Jack tells me, taking my hand in his as we pull out for the street.
"I suppose I blame him for everything that's happened." I stare straight ahead, not willing Jack to look at me, or me to him. "If he wouldn't have left, my mother wouldn't have been so messed up. My uncle never would have moved in and I wouldn't be this way," I laugh softly.
"I love you just the way you are," Jack tells me. I feel his eyes burning through mine.
"Yeah, well I don't," I answer. "I hate what my life has become." I quickly glance towards Jack's hurt look. "Please don't take that the wrong way. I mean look at me, Jack, I'm a mess and a failure at so much. How many long-term relationships have I had? How many times have I been in love? How many times have I been with a guy and wanted him to even stay the night?" I laugh at the absurdity of it. "I'd be better off--"
Jack cuts me off, "Don't even say it." His voice is sharp as he pulls over to the side of the road. He unbuckles his seatbelt and his body sends a shiver down my spine at the look he's giving me.
"It's true," I answer.
"Samantha," he blows out an annoyed breath and steps out from the car, slamming the door forcefully. I feel more tears rising in my eyes, and lean my head in my hands, crying my heart out.
"Why can't anyone love me?" I whisper for no one to hear. I feel a cool gust of air and see the passenger side open.
"Do you think your death would accomplish something?" His eyes look furious and his body is telling me he's more than ready to pick a fight.
"I didn't---" I pause, feeling the tears no longer coming but my heart broken nonetheless. "Jack, can you take me home?"
"Why? So you can end all this? That's the most selfish thing I've ever heard from you!" He unclasps my seatbelt and pulls me from the car.
"Jack, you're hurting me!" I feel my stomach knot at his anger. His hand burns my wrist as he pulls me into the grassy path, keeping me away from traffic. I glare down at his hand and he loosens his grip, but not enough to let me go. "I'm not going to run," I tell him, meeting his gaze as he drops my hand.
"No you won't run---you'll leave me instead. It figures," he shakes his head. "I've tried everything in my life to get away from my own mother's death and you have to throw it right in my face."
"Jack," I feel more tears forming and see his own red eyes. "You know I never meant---"
"Of course you didn't," he cuts me off. "No one does." He regards me with scorn as he walks back to the car and slams the door
For a moment, I continue standing in the cold, worried he'll leave me. I slowly head to the car, slip inside and take a seat, waiting for him to pull out in traffic.
"Jack, I'm so sorry," I whisper, feeling tears in my eyes as I glance towards him. His face looks angry and his skin is a deep shade of red. He pulls in front of my apartment, stopping the car and sitting there, waiting. "Come up," I tell him, taking his hand as I feel his body slowly soften in my grip.
"Maybe we need some time apart. We've been working together non-stop the past week."
"Jack," I answer with a shake of my head and a sigh. "You need a decent place to sleep. Are you going home at least?"
"No," he eyes his hands on the steering wheel.
"Then stay the night. I can sleep on the couch," I offer, hoping to straighten things out between us because he is the last person I want hating me.
"I'm not sure that's a wise decision."
"If you're worried about Maria---" he cuts me off by opening his door. I follow behind, heading up the stairs to the door. I don't question his sudden decision change, and I won't, because I want this.
