Author's Note: When Jack went to his mother's, two things struck me. Even though it was winter there was water an outdoor swimming pool and the style of the house. The style was distinctly French Style Ante-Bellum. So I decided it had to be in a southern state and Savannah seemed the logical location, that's why I chose to place Miriam's mansion there. Reviews are always appreciated. There will be at least one more part to this story.
Part 2
Samantha forced Sharon into Jack's lair after punching in the code. After calling out several times and getting no response, she tied Sharon to a wheeled desk chair, gagged her and pushed it to the center of the room. Her prisoner restrained enough for a fast check through, Sam looked around. When she found the bed nausea welled up inside her. She couldn't decide if she felt sick because of the blood soaked sheets or the mirror over the bed and smell of sex that lingered. Beside the bed one of the nightstands had been knocked over, likely in Jack's struggle with his injury. As Samantha sat the table back up, her fury increased as she saw inside the waste basket beside it. The wastebasket had was half full of condom wrappers, dozens of colorful reminders of his slut.
Angered by the physical evidence of Jack's infidelity as her mind was starting to perceive it, Samantha stormed over to Sharon and backhanded her hard across the face. So strong was the impact of the blow that the chair spun and hit the step up to Jack's office area. For a moment the chair and it's occupant tottered and then fell with a resounding crash. Feeling mildly vindicated, Samantha sat the chair upright. Seeing the fury in Sharon's eyes, Sam felt amused and removed the gag.
"What the hell was that for you crazy bitch!?!"
"Where would he go Sharon?" Samantha demanded ignoring the outburst.
"How the hell should I know," she sneered defiantly.
Samantha brought her knife out again and held it in front of Sharon's face. "Unless you want me to carve you like a jack-o-lantern, I suggest you cooperate. Now, either you help me find Jack or there's no reason for me not to kill you here and now. Got it?"
For a moment Sharon remained silent then sighed, "I honestly don't know."
"Did he ever talk about any other places he owned?" Samantha prompted, trying to remain calm.
"I asked him once if he had anywhere else, but he ignored me and told me to work on my lessons."
"Did he ever mention any friends that might help him out if he were in trouble?"
"No," Sharon replied. "And I never asked. Jack got pissed off every time I started asking questions. I swear that bastard isn't human, never sleeps, eats nothing but fucking cheetos, only thing he talks about is you and those fucking Feds. If I hadn't heard him talking to his mother on the phone I still wouldn't believe he's human."
"Get a boo-boo and let Mama kiss it better," Sam quipped. "Did he ever say anything about where she lives?"
Sharon shook her head no. Samantha checked her restraints and left her. Ignoring her prisoner's tirade of curses and pleading, she started to search Jack's sanctuary. Sitting at his desk, she inhaled and deduced that this second larger desk chair was Jack's favorite from the lingering scents of roses, smoke, sandalwood, and light trace of male essence. Sam glanced through the few pieces of paper on the desk and then began to check the computer. Instinctively, she knew that he normally would have had the entire system on a password, but given Sharon's rash behavior in trying to kill her last night, he'd probably left in a hurry. Searching through Jack's files was amusing, they gave her some insight into the man who had spent so long pursuing her.
In a file marked 'assets,' there were several subfiles, one of which was marked 'real estate.' Samantha clicked and started to scan the the list of properties. Her heart sank and panic started to seize her as she saw how long the list was. There were more than 100 properties listed in the US alone! Ok, think Samantha, where would Jack's mom live? She opened the bottle of Jack Daniels on the desk and took a sip. As she drank, Sam thought she could taste him on the rim of the bottle and felt slightly better. Lighting a cigarette from a pack that sat on the desk, she leaned back in the chair. Crunch time, Jack needed her and she needed to find him.
Where would Jack's mother be? One possibility was Maryland, it was where Samantha grew up and maybe where Jack first spotted her. Jack was probably somewhere around Sam's age give or take a few years, so that meant Jack's mother was probably in her 60's. Assuming Jack had money, and with the number of properties listed it seemed likely, then it also seemed likely that he would make certain that his mother stayed in a warm climate when in the winter. She would start with the places in Georgia and then fan out to the places listed in Florida, Texas, and New Orleans. Samantha printed out the addresses and finished her cigarette.
Shit! Samantha thought, what to do with Sharon? She didn't think it was safe to leave her tied up in Jack's sanctuary. At the same time, she really didn't want to have to look at the lousy slut for the entire trip either. Sam briefly toyed with killing her, but she wanted Jack to be with her for her first time, to share the moment with him. What first time? God I'm really losing it, Sam decided. Think, Sam, is this what you really want? Damn right! Coop couldn't stop chewing gum for five minutes for her, Tom resented her work and let his mother boss her around, Jack had killed for her and would probably walk through hell itself for her. No doubt about it, Jack was what she wanted. She was insane she decided, but it was surprisingly pleasant. Screw it. Sanity is vastly overrated, Samantha decided.
She should probably get a couple hours of sleep, but what to do with Sharon? Absently, Sam flipped through a pile of photos on Jack's desk. Most were of her, there were a couple of the slut, and wait a second! There was a picture of Jill locked up, Sam's eyes darted around the room and she saw the closet where it had been taken. Standing up, she walked toward her prisoner.
"So Sharon, does Jack lock you up in the closet when you're naughty?"
"Of course not, Jack loves me!" Sharon lied.
"Keep telling yourself that," Sam replied and started pushing the chair towards the closet. Then she stuffed the gag in Sharon's mouth and locked her in the closet. Calmly, Sam set the alarm clock and got into what she knew was Jack's side of the bed from the smoky masculine scent that clung to the pillow and fell into an uneasy sleep. Samantha woke before the alarm went off with a nightmare of Jack dying in the middle of a rose garden lying face down in a pool of blood, and the image terrified her.
Unable to get back to sleep, she roamed around deciding what she needed to do before leaving. She looked around for something clean to wear that wasn't Sharon's, the last thing she wanted was to put anything against her skin, Jack's harlot had worn. Sam could probably have stopped around home for clothes, but she didn't want to risk dealing with her well meaning friends. Sam found a trunk under an ornate tapestry near the piano, the trunk had 'SAM' carved on it and she opened it. Inside to her delight, she found several changes of clothing with tags attached and her favorite brands of toiletries. Planning on kidnapping me sometime? Samantha wondered and smiled at the thought.
After selecting an outfit and grabbing the bath products she took a shower and got dressed. Then she searched further and found a hard sided wheeled trunk and noticed it had a couple holes. She opened it and saw the restraints inside. Perfect! Jack had something for every possibility. Sharon would fit inside nicely and stay alive for at least a day or so. First she had to get her captive ready for the trip. Samantha took her gun and opened the closet door. Sharon looked up at her angrily, but her eye makeup was obviously smudged from crying.
"Here's what we're gonna do Sharon," Samantha explained. "I'm going to untie all but your wrists, I've got my gun, so don't try anything. You may go to the bathroom with the door open and if you behave you'll get something to drink and eat. Got it?"
Sharon nodded and remained silent as Sam partially unbound her. She went to the bathroom as ordered and then Sam gave her a drink of bottled water, from a bottle of Evian she found in the kitchenette.
"Can I have a shower and some clean clothes?" Sharon asked hopefully.
"No, we have to get going soon. I'm going to retie you to the chair and then free your left hand and let you have some donuts I found. Again, if you try anything I'll blow you to hell."
Sam tied Sharon to the chair and then gave her a couple donuts and a paper towel. With detached interest, she watched Sharon. Samantha decided once she was on the road a trip through a drive-thru for some hot coffee was in order. When Sharon asked for a shower, it amused her. As if Jack's bitch was going to be allowed to doll up to see him, Samantha hoped he would be pleased to see her in the clothing he'd purchased for her. After Sharon finished eating, Sam let her have another sip of water and offered her another chance to use the bathroom, letting her know it would be another 6 hours at least before she would have another opportunity.
Samantha gathered a few select items including the list of addresses, some audio cassettes and another outfit Jack had bought for her. Then she tied Sharon's hands to the black case and forced her to carry it down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, Sam forced her into the suitcase and strapped her in tightly. Sharon started crying and pleading, apparently she had real issues with small spaces. Sam pushed the gag into her mouth and shut the case. Calmly she wheeled the case out to her SUV and after a little struggle got the case into the back compartment.
A trip through a drive-thru yielded a large and much needed coffee and a breakfast sandwich. As Samantha ate, she put one of the tapes in the player that she'd brought from Jack's. Romantic jazz filled the vehicle and she smiled, Jack was most definitely an old fashioned guy. Driving through the city, Sam slowed as the mall loomed in the distance. Time was of the essence, however, she decided flicking her eyes at the time, one quick stop would be all right.
Pulling into the mall parking lot, she tossed the tarp from the previous evening over the suitcase and locked the car up, but left it running so the music would muffle any sound Sharon tried to make. Samantha raced inside and ran to Wilson's Leather. Five minutes later, she emerged from the mall with a small flat brightly wrapped package for Jack and a sleek pair of black leather gloves on her hands. When she reached the SUV, she pulled the tarp off the case and tapped it to make certain Sharon was still breathing. Sam started the vehicle and headed out of Atlanta.
Samantha wondered how Jack was doing and hoped he was all right. One fear that was coursing through her mind was that on route to his mother's wherever that was, that he could have had a wreck. The amount of blood loss and infection could impair his driving abilities and that was a disconcerting thought. Jack couldn't die, not now, not when Samantha finally could see what he tried to show her for so long. She could see the cruel beauty of the lessons he'd created for her and felt a whole new dimension of admiration for his genius.
"You'd better hope Jack is still alive Sharon," Samantha growled so her captive could hear. "Last night I was aiming for you. If he dies, you'll wish the bullet had struck and killed you. When I get through with you, hell will seem like club med."
Samantha drove as fast as she legally could down the highway. With her FBI ID she could probably be rid of any highway patrolman in quick order, but with Sharon in the case in the back of her SUV, she didn't want to chance it. Every moment she was a heart beat closer to Jack and she didn't want to have to stop for anything. At the train station when the VCTF delayed Coop's demise for couple months, Sam had spoken with Jack for several minutes. Now she berated herself for having put an end to the meeting by calling out to Bailey. If she could do it over, she would beg him to take her with him. During that meeting he told her he needed her, that he would waste away without her. If only she had understood then as she did now.
After a little over an hour, Samanatha screamed with frustration as traffic ground to a halt. She switched from the tape to the radio and discovered a couple miles up there was a fourteen car pile up and that emergency crews were clearing the wreckage. Sam knew it would slow her down by at least an hour and worse still, Jack could be involved. The thought of Jack could be dead or dying a several hundred yards away and she would never know turned Samantha's blood to ice. Unable to cope with the idea, she stuck another tape in the deck and began to half listen to the romantic tune. God, please don't take Jack, she prayed fervently, then laughed nervously as she wondered if God looked out for the welfare of serial killers.
Two long and hellish hours of waiting passed before the accident was fully cleared and she could proceed. Worries that Jack could have been involved in the accident plagued her as she drove, but all Sam could do was keep going and hope for the best. Jack was resourceful and clever, he would be all right, he had to be. A killer of Jack's caliber was supposed to die in a blaze of glory or of old age on an exotic island, not a car accident. No, Samantha refused to believe Jack wasn't going to be fine. He was probably already at his mother's receiving the best medical care money could buy.
After half an hour of progress, Samantha pulled into a rest stop and backed into a space that faced a clump of pine trees. She got out and opened up the back and opened up the trunk to check on Sharon. Her captive was very much alive though her eyes were red from crying. Sam left her in the case, but cautiously removed the gag, while making certain the gun was visible so the threat was clear.
"Would you like some water?" Sam offered holing the bottle up.
"Please," Sharon replied in a dull and submissive voice.
After Sam held the bottle for Sharon to take a couple sips, she recapped it and announced, "You'll get a chance to eat something and go to the bathroom in a few hours when we stop, unless Jack would decide otherwise."
"Please let me out of here," Sharon begged. "I'll be good, I won't try to get away."
Sam shook her head in refusal and put the gag back in place and closed the hard sided trunk. Then she closed the back hatch of the SUV and got back inside. As she started the vehicle up, she lit a cigarette and grabbed a couple cheetos from a bag of cheetos she'd brought from Jack's. Pulling out onto the highway again, Sam weaved efficiently through traffic, every second hopefully getting closer to Jack. As she drove past a sign indicating how many miles until Savannah, Samantha prayed in earnest that Jack's mother was there and that Jack was as well.
Dusk had fallen by the time Samantha drove into the city of Savannah. Although she had an address, she had no map and didn't know her way around, so she parked at a gas station. It took a moment for her to fish the spare set of keys from her purse, put the tarp in place over the case and to lock up the running vehicle. She walked into the station to purchase a map and hopefully get directions. There was a display of maps at the register, so Sam took one and paid for it.
"I'm sorry to bother you," Sam asked the clerk and gave him a smile. "But do you know where this address is located?"
The clerk looked at the address she pointed to and let out a low whistle, "Well ma'am I can't say exactly where, but LaFayette Square is one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in the city."
Opening the map, Samantha inquired, "Can you show me on the map?"
The clerk obliged and gave her directions of how to get to that part of the city from the gas station's humble neighborhood. Sam paused to purchase a large coffee to help keep her going and headed back to the SUV. A few sips of coffee and a couple of the caffeine pills from last night and Samantha was ready to resume her journey. The station attendant's directions would take her to the general area she needed to get to and the map would do the rest. When the man told her the address was in one of the richest neighborhoods in the town, she felt relief because that meant there was a good chance that was where Jack's mother was. At the same time, Samantha felt nervous, would she be good enough for Jack's family and would he be able to forgive her for shooting him? Jack would forgive her, she decided, after all, Sharon was the one she meant to hit.
As Sam drove through Savannah, the houses became nicer and more old fashioned the closer she drew to her destination. When she was nearly to the end of the directions the clerk had given her, Samantha started looking for a place to stop and read the map. She pulled up in front of a huge ante-bellum mansion and turned the light on overhead so she could read the map. A glance at the street sign and a few moments later, she pinpointed her current location on the map and found the street she needed on the map. Within ten minutes she would know one way or another if her intuition was correct.
Shutting the light off, Sam pulled away from the curb and watched the street signs intently as she navigated through the elegant streets. Trembling slightly, Sam prayed she would find Jack and that he would be all right. Finally she turned onto the the correct street and began to scan intently for the correct house number. The smallest houses on the street were sprawling mansions set back from the road with stately iron fences in front of them. On a white stucco column that an elegant black iron fence sprung from was the number from the address. Slowly Sam pulled into the driveway and took in the sight.
The house was a huge French style mansion with a large front porch. Exquisite white roses grew between the matching curved step that lead up to the entrance in ante-bellum meeting style. The building was the immense with extravagant details. It had a proud and aristocratic air about it that made Samantha feel hesitant about approaching. But this was for Jack and Jack was all that mattered. She refreshed her lipstick, fixed her hair and added a dash of perfume, before getting out and locking the car.
Straitening her clothing as she walked towards the steps, Samantha took a deep breath and thought about what she would say. Shit! She remembered she didn't know Jack's real name. This would be awkward, but Sam had come too far to give up now. At the top of the steps, she walked to the heavy double doors and knocked. As she was waiting, her eyes darted around and she noticed a couple spots that were on the porch. They were tiny and reddish brown, Sam bent down to get a better look. After all the crime scenes she'd been too, she recognized blood in various stages of drying when she saw it. This had to be the place, now all that remained was to get to Jack.
"Yes?" a pretentious butler asked from the doorway, staring at her disdainfully.
Samantha stood up and with as much dignity as she could muster, informed him, "I'm here to see the owner."
"Madame isn't receiving tonight," he intoned and started to close the door.
Moving forward, Sam grabbed the door and pushed her way in, saying, "I think Madame will want to see me seeing as it involves her son."
A sneer crossed the butler's face as he ordered, "Wait here.
For several moments Sam stood waiting feeling very alone and overwhelmed in the grand entrance hall. Above chandeliers blazed in sparkling crystal glory and cast shadows on huge oil paintings on the wall that she would bet her last dollar were the originals. Her hand reached into her purse and clasped her gun, Jack needed her and she wouldn't fail him. One way or another, she would find him and no one was stopping her. A sound of high heels clicking on the floor approaching her, drew Sam from her thoughts.
"Who are you and what do you want with my son?" the middle aged woman in expensive clothing demanded.
"Ma'am, my name is Samantha Waters and I'm here to see your son."
"He isn't receiving visitors," the woman retorted.
"Look, I know you're trying to protect him because he's wounded," Samantha explained and felt relief as she saw confirmation in the woman's eyes. "I here because I love your son."
"He hasn't mentioned any Samantha."
"Jack or whatever the hell his real name is, is somewhere in this house with a gunshot wound in his leg. The fact that he is here and not the hospital means you know he has some unique hobbies that aren't entirely legal. I'm not here to arrest him or cause trouble. I just want to see the man I love, nothing more."
"I don't know-"
Samantha interrupted, "I know he loves red roses and cheetos. He loves old music and if he's even remotely coherent he could tell you he loves me. Maybe we haven't had a traditional courtship, but I'm his and he needs me."
The older woman stood thoughtful and said, "Give me a moment and I'll be back."
Jack's mother walked off, leaving Sam alone. Miriam walked to her son's room and entered. He was heavily drugged, having been moved from the pool area where the surgery was done to his room where he was resting now. Bending down, she softly asked her son if her knew a woman named Samantha. A smile crossed his face, but he gave no response, so she tried again, asking a little louder this time.
"My Samantha," Jack sighed softly with a look of contentment on his face.
Although he hadn't fully woken up, the whispered comment and the expression on his face spoke volumes. Miriam started to walk downstairs, she wasn't entirely sure this Samantha was going to be acceptable. However, she'd seen her son fly into a rage before and decided to allow the visitor. Probably this Samantha should be given one of the guest rooms. Anxiety played about the young woman's features as Miriam entered the hallway.
"Well Samantha, my son isn't conscious, but he responded to your name so I'm going to allow you to see him and to stay in one of the guest rooms. Do you have any luggage?"
Sam stood thoughtfully for a moment before answering, "Thank you. There's a small bag in the front of my SUV and a large trunk in the back."
After motioning to the butler, she said, "Johnson will get your luggage. You may address me as Miriam."
"Thank you, Miriam," Sam replied and handed the butler her spare key so he could get into her SUV.
"Well Samantha, let's get you to your room."
"Could I see your son first please?"
"Very well," Miriam sighed. "Afterwards would you like me to send some dinner up for you?"
"If it's not too much trouble. But first tell me, how is he?" Samantha pleaded anxiously.
"He's going to be just fine, my dear. Now follow me," Miriam instructed and lead her son's guest to his room.
When they reached the door, Sam asked, "May I stay in here and watch him tonight?"
Miriam regarded her with minor disapproval before agreeing, "All right, the nurse will be in to check on him through out the night though. Roya doesn't speak English, so if you have any questions for her you'll have to wait and let me ask her tomorrow."
Sam smiled and replied, "Knowing your son, I think that was a very good idea."
Jack's mother left her alone and called out for the Butler as she descended the staircase. As Samantha paused outside of the door. Jack was going to live and that was all that mattered, but she suddenly felt shy and uncertain of herself. This was the first time she would see her beloved's face without a disguise or eyewash blurring her vision. And now that Jack was going to live, there was the matter of whether he would forgive her for shooting him. Taking a breath, she opened the door and quietly walked in.
Lying in an enormous bed, was a very pale Jack wearing a white French terry robe. His eyes were closed, so Samantha would have to wait to find out what his eye color was. Fine aristocratic features were softened by deep blonde hair and a tiny goatee that perched below a sinfully sensual mouth. Jack wasn't very tall, probably just a hair under six foot, and his body was tight and trim. Overall he was wickedly handsome and Sam decided as she watched his chest rise and fall in slow steady breaths, the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. Absorbed in her thoughts, she didn't notice as Johnson opened the door and brought in her bad and the trunk.
"Excuse me Madame," he intoned pretentiously. "I took the liberty of placing these items in a bag and bringing them in."
Sam accepted the bag and peeked inside, there were the cheetos, cigarettes and the tiny gift wrapped package. Imitating Miriam's style, she responded "Thank you, Johnson."
"If there is nothing else you require Madame, I'll bring your tray up shortly."
After the Butler departed, Samantha walked over to the bed and carefully sat down beside Jack on the uninjured side. She removed her leather gloves and took his hand in hers and brought it to her mouth to kiss. For several minutes she sat quietly until the Butler returned with a silver tray overflowing with food which he sat on an elegant writing desk for her. Walking over, she thanked him softly and he told her to leave it outside the door when she was finished. Sam waited until he was gone and opened the trunk.
"Now," she told Sharon quietly. "I will bring you out of the trunk and escort you into the bathroom. If you behave and stay silent, you will have something to drink and eat, but I will not have you disturbing Jack, understand?"
Sharon remained quiet as Sam removed the gag and released the trunk bonds, the handcuffs remained on her wrists as she was lead into the bathroom. After using the facilities, Sharon was lead back into the room. Sam ordered her to sit on the floor beside the desk. Then sitting at the desk, Samantha divided the food and placed part on the bread plate for her prisoner. There was so much food on the tray that both women would be able to eat heartily. Sam sat watching Sharon, choosing to wait until her captive was returned to the case before having her dinner.
As she ate, Sharon asked quietly, "Where are we?"
"Jack's mother's house. Don't think of trying to make a break for it Sharon. I get the impression that she has a good idea of Jack's true nature and wouldn't be impressed with you trying to defy him."
"How is he?"
Samantha ignored her for a moment, savoring her rival's pain before answering, "I believe he will live. Now I'll let you have your water bottle again and it's back into the case. Don't fuss Sharon, I won't tolerate it."
After giving the woman some water from the partial bottle of Evian that was in the bag Johnson brought in, Sam gagged Sharon and forced her back into the case. After closing it, Sam ate some of the dinner from the tray and carried it out to the hallway. Then carefully so as not to jostle him, Samantha crawled into bed beside Jack on his unaffected side. She studied him as he sleep and gently she pressed a kiss to his lips before settling in.
"Bet you never expected our first time in bed together to be anything like this," Samantha whispered softly, tears glistening in her eyes.
Lying next to Jack, Sam watched him silently until her eyes slowly fluttered close and sleep overtook her. Throughout the night the pair slept, neither rousing as the nurse checked his vitals. Both slept through his mother stepping in and giving a slightly disapproving look early the next morning. Exhaustion from stress drained Sam and she remained fast asleep beside her beloved.
Jack woke slowly, the pain in his leg throbbing dully. As he became alert, he was aware of a warm feminine body wrapped around his good leg and a soft hand curled against his chest inside his robe. Turning his head slightly, Jack was amazed to see his Samantha in bed beside him...