She was exhausted, but sleep didn't come easily to her that night. Sam had so much running through her mind – what her brother could be up to; where John was and if he'd figured anything out about Scott; and more importantly, how John knew she had decided to meet with her brother that morning. That text came as she was speaking to Scott the night before, warning her not to tell him where she was. Sam thought on it through the night, sleeping in small spurts in between times, and came to a conclusion: John had tapped her phone as well.
Sam was vaguely aware of the dawn as she dozed lightly. As her room grew brighter with sunlight, she gave up on sleep and got into the shower.
Eva would die a little if she saw where Sam was now. John had paid for a hotel room just for her, but he hadn't stayed with her. Eva would probably be confused more than anything else.
Sam stayed in the shower for a long while, letting the close to scalding water loosen up her muscles in her shoulders and back. It was the most relaxed she'd felt since John accosted her in that alley the night before. He had saved her life. Not because it was her, but because that was his job. Sam continued saying that to herself as she stepped out of the shower and dried off.
Wrapping the towel around her, she stepped out into the front room to see John standing there, examining a picture on the wall. She let out a shriek, and ducked behind the bed as he turned, respectfully putting his back to her.
He could never see her like this! Wet, her hair falling over her eyes like some damp sea monster, no makeup, and pasty, bowed legs! She would have to hire someone to kill him. Ironically, she'd probably have to ask him where she could hire someone like that.
Sam crawled around the bed despite John keeping his back to her, not even risking a glance over his shoulder. She gathered a set of clothes in her arms and crawled back into the bathroom.
"Did you sleep well?" He asked.
"Not really."
"That's understandable."
Sam rushed to get into her clothes as she spoke, picking up the t-shirt she brought. She cursed under her breath. She'd left her bra out there! Was there no end to this embarrassment?
Sam poked her wet head around the bathroom doorway. "Um, would you mind turning around again? I forgot something."
John nodded and turned his back to her again. Sam rushed in, the towel clutched to her as she searched for her bra. She looked all the way around the bed. Then she saw it, partially trapped under John's shoe. Yes indeed, that answered her question. There would be no end to the embarrassment.
She sighed and yanked at it. John closed his eyes, perhaps to keep his composure, as he lifted his heel. The bra snapped into Sam's grip, and she ran back into the bathroom.
Sam finished dressing and combed through her hair, pulling it up in a messy bun at the top of her head.
"You can come all the way in now," she called to him.
John appeared in the doorway and leaned against it casually as Sam attempted to manage her face.
"Scottie's meeting me," Sam said, looking at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. "But you already knew that. That's why you're here."
John still said nothing and lowered his eyes.
"You tapped my phone," she said flatly.
"We had to. Traced the call," John explained simply.
"And?"
"He was using a disposable phone. Dead end."
"John," Sam's voice squeaked a little. "How long have you had the tap on my phone?"
John pursed his lips as he looked at her. "Since before the restaurant last night."
Sam didn't have the will to ask the next question popping into her mind. She could see it on his face already. He'd heard everything! Now she would have to hire someone to kill him and Eva!
"You know. I think I might prefer it if you let those men just come and kill me, or do whatever they were planning to do. Yes, I think I'd quite like that," Sam said helplessly.
"You don't mean that, Sam," John said.
"It's either that or have you killed. I think we both know which one is easier to accomplish," Sam said sarcastically.
John couldn't help his smile, which made Sam feel a little better.
They waited in the room together, Sam flipping the channels around on the TV, and John peering out the window occasionally.
The knock on the door was soft. Sam turned the TV off, and the two of them stopped to listen. Another knock and John was up first, his weapon drawn.
He pointed it at the door, opening it quickly, by just a fraction. Sam was on her feet, but the gun went back under John's jacket and the door opened fully, revealing her younger brother.
He wandered in, set off balance by the man who opened the door, but smiled when he saw her. Sam wasn't sure what to do. Scott was her brother, but he'd gotten into so much trouble, it was difficult to know how she could trust him. And now, he had put her in danger. She glanced at John, who shut the door and nodded. His face was stone serious.
Sam hugged her brother. She hugged him tightly to her as though she'd be able to bring back the nice young man she used to know, who used to get good grades in school.
"You look good, Sam. I didn't know you were important enough to have a body guard," he jerked his head towards John as they pulled apart.
"He's a friend, who was kind enough to help me out." Sam said.
"Do you know who he's with?" Scott's eyes continued to flick towards John, who remained in the background, his arms folded, leaning against a wall.
"Yes." Sam glanced at John then back to Scott. "He's with me. Come in and sit down."
She sat on the bed and her brother in a chair across from her. He was jumpy. He couldn't seem to find a comfortable position in the chair.
"Scottie, what is going on? Who are you working for?"
"I – I just need to get the money, Sam. Please, I don't want to make it hard on you or anyone else."
It was strange, but Sam believed him. He was almost pleading with her. "You know I can't ask Dad for that kind of money, even if it was for something legitimate. And I don't think it is. Is it?" She already knew the answer, and it was only confirmed by Scott's silence.
"Scottie, you can't do this anymore!" she shouted, surprising herself and the men in the room. "You are going to get killed and we won't even know! You've done so much to us, to me, but I still love you. I want to help you, but I won't help you get further into whatever this is. Just tell me one thing."
"What?" Scott lowered his eyes to the floor.
"Who is after me and why?"
Scott sighed heavily. He looked up at Sam again. His face was pale underneath the freckles, and his eyes were exhausted with worry and fatigue. "I'm sorry, Sam."
At his words they heard a popping noise, and the main door burst open. Sam leaped to her feet, and John was already across the room. Another man entered the hotel room, a gun in his hand. Sam recognized him from the group in her apartment the day before.
Once he crossed from the entry way into the room, John pounced. Sam stared unblinkingly as John disarmed him and knocked him to the floor in a few seconds as efficiently as she'd ever seen. Never in her life had she witnessed that kind of fighting before, fast and deadly. It was like something from a movie. She continued staring once the man was wheezing on the floor.
"We have to go," John said.
"You're not a cop or FBI. You're Batman!" Sam said, her voice shaking. "How did – "
The rest of her words were pushed out of her as she was grabbed around the waist. Scott held her in front of him, the gun of his fallen comrade was in his hand and pressed against Sam's temple. Sam felt his body trembling as he held her, but his grip was firm.
"Drop the gun," Scott demanded.
"Scottie, what are you doing?" Sam whispered. "Why are you doing this? Please - "
"Shut up, Sam! I said, drop the gun, Batman!"
John dropped his pistol on the carpet. "Scottie, she's your sister. I know you don't want to hurt her. Let her go." John said calmly.
"I can't."
"You know I won't let you take her out of this room, even if I have to kill you."
"John!" Sam said.
John crumpled to the floor in front of them. A third man, another from her apartment, stood behind him with a nightstick drawn. John lay at his feet, unconscious.
"John!" Sam shouted, panic rising through her body as Scott dragged her out of the room. She struggled, screaming for John as they carted her out.
Two other men she had not seen before went into the room as Scott and his cohort brought Sam out. They took her into the service elevator, down to the ground level of the hotel.
A white, windowless van was parked in the alley next to the loading gate of the hotel. They muscled Sam into the van, one of the men zip corded her hands and feet together. The double doors shut on her, leaving her in darkness for a few heartbeats.
The doors opened again, allowing the light to stream in, and the two other men tossed John's limp form painfully onto the floor of the van. The doors shut again, and they started moving.
"John? Can you hear me?" she asked desperately, taking his lifeless hand into her own. She held it as they were taken away.