Continued from chapter 5
/-
Jack Malone jangled his keys impatiently, his cold and stiff fingers having trouble picking out the right one. Finally, he found it and shoved it into the lock and briskly unlocked the front door. Stepping inside the dark hallway, he let the door fall heavily shut behind him, the sound echoing unpleasantly loud in the empty house. Without bothering to switch on any light, he kicked off his ruined shoes and let his soaked through coat fall to the floor.
He walked towards the living room, heading for the liquor cabinet, but stopped abruptly as, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow move with him. Turning his head sharply, he found himself staring at his own reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. He almost didn´t recognize the man staring back at him - the wet shirt clinging to his chest, tie askew and his hair flat in some places and sticking out in others. Little drops of water were still visible on his brow and he raised a hand to wipe them away, feeling the icy cold skin as he brushed his fingers against it. His face was pale and haggard, but his dark eyes shone with an unfamiliar fire. He didn´t know it was a look he usually reserved for late nights looking at photos or losing himself in memories; unobserved by both himself and others.
A wan, humourless smile appeared for the briefest of seconds as he stared at himself, trying to understand what he was seeing, then he looked away and quickly entered the living room. Without hesitation he navigated around the few pieces of furniture that had been left him by Maria and found the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a generous drink before falling down into an armchair. His wet shirt and trousers stuck to the leather and would probably ruin it, but he didn´t care. Downing half the glass in one swallow, the sudden burn in his throat made him gag and nearly throw it all up again, but he kept it down, feeling the bourbon slowly warming up his freezing limbs from within.
The house was so very silent, not even the ticking of a clock could be heard, and for a moment, Jack could almost believe he was the only one left in the world. Then he shook his head dismissively, taking a few careful sips of his drink before leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes.
"What the hell do you think you´re doing!"
His eyes snapped open as Sam´s voice cut through his mind and he swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat. When that didn´t help, he drank the rest of his bourbon and rose to get another one, his head already spinning a little. Aside from the Chinese Sam sent him, he hadn´t eaten all day and it had to be close to midnight now.
Returning with a fresh drink, he collapsed back into the chair, causing the liquor to overflow and spill out onto his hand. Changing hands, he wiped the bourbon-stained one off in his shirt before taking a deep swallow. He knew he would have to go easy on this one, let it take effect before he had a third. He still had work tomorrow even if it was the last thing on his mind.
He didn´t know what had been worse: her anger or her tears. If he had thought about it beforehand, he would probably have expected one of them. However, he hadn´t taken time to think about anything, he had only gone with what was in his heart. It wasn´t planned, it had even taken him by surprise. He had meant everything he said to her earlier in his office, that everything would be okay between them. But outside on that street, in the pouring rain, all his layers of self-preservation and self-denial somehow seemed to have been washed off.
"I want you back, Samantha."
"You´re… you´re unbelievable. How dare you?"
He dared because all of a sudden he realized that he was losing her. For good this time.
"You have no right."
"I know, but I have to say something. Sam, I never-"
"No, no, you don´t get to say anything! Not now, not ever."
"Then why did you say you didn´t know how to be friends with me?"
"Go to hell, Jack."
Jack stared out into the completely dark room, his eyes not seeing anything. With that softly spoken line, spoken in a voice unlike any he had ever heard from her, she had turned her back on him and walked away.
He had watched her until she disappeared in the darkness. The umbrella falling from his suddenly limp hand, the rain drenching him within seconds. He guessed he had hoped for some feeling of cleansing, purification even, but all he felt was cold.
It was true; he had no right.
And most likely he would end up in hell for the number of sins he had already committed, but he wasn´t going to give up. Not this time. Because he had seen something in her eyes after he kissed her, something that, if only for a split second, had made him believe she would be willing to go to hell with him.
Draining what was left of his lukewarm drink, he suddenly felt like both laughing and crying. While his exhausted mind tried to decide on which, he fell asleep and the glass slipped from his fingers. It hit the floor with a low thud, but, by some miracle, remained intact.
/-
The incessant banging on his door stirred Martin from his pleasant dreams and he called out in annoyance, "Yes, yes, I´m coming!" He threw on a t-shirt and made his way to the front door, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Taking a quick peek through the peep-hole, he opened the door quickly. "Sam?"
She looked a mess. She was drenched to the bone and was shivering uncontrollably, her teeth chattering. What little make-up she was wearing was smeared and her mascara was running, making it look like she had been crying.
"Jesus, Samantha! Come in."
Once inside, he hurried into the bathroom, found a large towel and grabbed his robe before returning to her side. "Here, lose the clothes and put this on."
She only stared at him as if she didn´t comprehend.
"Sam," he spoke a little impatiently, alarmed by the haunted look in her eyes, "put this on or you´ll catch pneumonia."
She finally seemed to hear him and nodded, beginning to slowly take off her wet clothes. Soon she stood completely naked in front of him. Normally, Martin would have been captivated, but he was too concerned by her behaviour to think of anything other than getting her warmed up. Handing her the robe and towel, he gathered her clothes up into his arms and went out into the bathroom once more to toss them into the dryer. When he returned, he was relieved to see that she had put on his robe and was drying off her hair in the towel.
"I´ll get you some sweats you can wear."
He started towards his closet, but was stopped by her voice, "That´s all right, this is fine, thank you."
He turned around, looking both sceptical and concerned. "You sure?"
She smiled and at last a little life appeared to return to her eyes. "Yes, really. I´m feeling better already."
"Okay, then." Martin hesitated, unsure of what to do next. Something about Samantha seemed off and it wasn´t just the fact she had been banging on his door well past midnight. She seemed shaken somehow. Making up his mind, he closed the distance between them and put a hand on her shoulder, speaking gently, "Everything okay? I thought you were going home to catch up on sleep?"
She became a little flustered and wouldn´t quite meet his eyes as she spoke, "I was, I mean, I did."
"And?" he coaxed mildly.
"I… I guess I had a… a nightmare or something," she spoke at first haltingly, but then more fluently. "It scared me and… and I suddenly wanted to see you." She met his gaze truly for the first time since arriving. "Is that okay?"
Martin wasn´t fully convinced, but decided to let it go for now. So instead of questioning her further, he only said, "Of course, it is. You know it is." He brushed a few stray hairs away from her face, giving her a tender smile. "But next time, call me and I´ll come to you. I don´t want you running around alone outside in the dark and the rain."
Normally, Samantha would have objected to what she might conceive as him being overly protective or possessive, but this time she only nodded. "I will, I promise."
They stood in silence for a moment, looking at each other.
"So…" Martin spoke at last, gesturing a little uncertainly. "You wanna go to bed?"
The question seemed to trigger something inside her and something flared in her eyes. "Yes." Her voice was low and husky and before Martin could take in the sudden turn of events, she grabbed him by the neck and brought their mouths together in a fierce kiss.
"Sam…" he fought for breath when she finally released his lips long enough to let him speak. "Are you… are you sure?" He wanted nothing more than to be with her, but felt she was vulnerable right now in a way he hadn´t experienced before and he didn´t want to take advantage of her earlier distress. Whatever the cause might be.
Her only reply was to kiss him again, this time with an almost frantic intensity that nearly made his legs buckle under him. Groaning into her mouth, Martin swept her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. Once there, she wasted no time tearing his boxers and t-shirt from his body, only stopping her onslaught on his lips long enough to disrobe herself. He couldn´t help feeling a little disconcerted by the almost desperate way she clung to him, but as his arousal rose, all thoughts that didn´t concern Sam´s warm body beneath his flew out the window.
He did try to slow down, but Samantha would have none of it so Martin just let himself go, getting caught up in a ride he didn´t know how to control.
"Sam," he gasped as he felt his release approaching rapidly and he lifted his head from the crook of her neck, trying to catch her eyes, but they were squeezed shut. And then he felt like he had been stabbed in the gut. There, on her flushed cheeks, he saw a hint of moisture and this time he didn´t have to wonder what it was. He shivered as a sudden chill ran down his spine, but before he could think any further, he lost control and let his head fall back down, hiding his face from the world as well as himself.
/-
The next morning they showered and dressed in silence and separately. Martin heard her move about in the bathroom while he was in the kitchen, trying to get the coffeemaker to work. It usually worked like clockwork, but this morning the water just didn´t want to run through and he swore loudly, growing more and more frustrated with each futile attempt. Finally, he just gave up and shoved it roughly out of the way, settling for instant coffee instead even though he hated the stuff. Out of habit, he made two cups and they stood steaming on the kitchen counter by the time Samantha entered, wearing her clothes from last night and her hair pulled into a tight ponytail.
"Good morning."
He only nodded, taking his cup and watching her over the brim as he sipped the hot liquid carefully. After a moment of somewhat uncomfortable silence, she glanced at her watch. "Well, I should get going if I want to get back and change before work."
"You should keep some clothes here." The words flew out of Martin´s mouth, surprising them both.
"Yeah, I guess," Sam smiled a little hesitantly. She was silent for a moment, then nodded, as if to herself, and said with more certainty, "Yes, yes, I should. Good idea." She smiled at him again. "I´ll bring something round the next time I´m here."
Martin watched her in silence as she moved to the refrigerator, opening it to take out a carton of milk and adding a little to her coffee.
"You want some?" she spoke with her back turned and he shook his head, then realized she couldn´t see it.
"No, I´m good, thanks."
"All right. Have you got anything edible in here?"
"Sam, what´s going on?"
He didn´t know whether she was surprised by the non sequitur or if she just needed a little time before answering, but it took her several long seconds to close the refrigerator and turn around to face him.
"What do you mean?"
Her expression didn´t give anything away and somehow that made him angry, but he kept his anger in check, speaking calmly, "Last night, when you came here all upset, that wasn´t just because of some nightmare."
She didn´t answer, only waited for him to continue.
"That was…" Martin felt himself growing frustrated again. "That was something more. You were, I don´t know, weirded out in some way and when you came onto me like that, that wasn´t like you either and I want to know why. Did something happen after work?"
"I thought you liked it wild," was her only reply, holding his gaze steadily and still not betraying much emotion except that she appeared a little on guard now.
"You didn´t answer my question." This time he did nothing to mask his anger and he saw surprise colour her features and he felt relief to finally get some response from her. "Did…" He faltered, then took a deep breath, asking matter-of-factly, "Did something happen with Jack?"
He had halfway expected her to look away, but she didn´t and just looked at him instead. If felt like forever before she nodded imperceptibly, speaking softly, "Yes. He… he um, said he wanted me back."
Martin felt like the metaphorical knife in his gut had just been twisted. "And what did you say?"
"I told him to go to hell."
His eyes widened. "What!" He wasn´t sure what answer he had expected, but it sure as hell wasn´t that.
"You heard me." Samantha smiled faintly. "I told him to go to hell." Not waiting for a reply, she crossed the floor and took the cup from his hand before taking his hands into hers and looking up at him. "I told him to go to hell because I already am where I want to be, with who I want to be."
He studied her, unsure. "Really?"
She nodded, leaning up to place a lingering kiss on his lips.
"Then why were you so strange last night?"
"Well, you were right before." She let out a sigh. "I was upset, but I was mainly angry at Jack and at myself, too, I guess."
"Why?"
"Because it took me so long to let him go in the first place and because I never made it perfectly clear that I wasn´t interested any more." A fleeting smile showed on her face. "At least not until last night."
Martin looked at her for a long moment, feeling all the love he had for her well up into him in a way that was almost painful. Then he let go of her hands and took a step back, speaking quietly, "I don´t believe you."
He could tell by her expression that she was stunned, but he didn´t wait for her to get her bearings, stepping away but pausing in the doorway to gaze back at her. "I´ll wait, Samantha, but not forever." He gave her one last look, then walked away, speaking over his shoulder, "Lock the door behind you when you leave."
TBC…