Welcome back! Sorry for the rather large delay in getting this chapter up – it's been an embarrassingly long time. It needed a few changes/fine-tuning before I could continue, but hopefully we're back on track and you're still around. That said, here's a longer chapter.
Anyway, thank you guys for your reviews, follows, and favourites. I appreciate all of the feedback so far, and hope you'll continue to let me know what you think!
Reminder: This is a McSwarek story. (ALL of my stories are)
Recap: Andy is playing poker with her dad, Oliver, and Sam in an effort to win Oliver's silence regarding the existence of her college-age boyfriend. While her dad is out of the room, Andy's behaviour could be considered somewhat inappropriate, including bribing Oliver for his silence and exchanging intense stares with Sam. Meanwhile, Sam develops an obvious curiosity where Andy is considered, wanting to know more about her, while simultaneously finding himself slowly being wrapped around her finger in the same way Oliver and her dad are… Andy ends up winning the poker game… Sam and Oliver respond to a noise complaint call and end up running into Andy and her boyfriend. Oliver threatens Tyler, and Sam has to convince Andy to let them drive her home.
One final note: I apologize for the scene labels - I usually separate each scene with a line - but there still seem to be some issues with formatting and since the lines won't show up, this will at least create a little bit of separation.
Scene 1
Sam leans forward to kiss her, his right hand sliding up behind her neck and tangling itself in her hair as his left hand moves to her hip and just barely grazes her skin. As the kiss deepens, he guides her body down onto the couch.
"Sam," she whines when they break apart for air, her hands tugging at the bottom of his shirt.
He smirks. She's never been one for taking things slow. Right now though, he's more than willing to comply. As his lips move to her neck, his left hand slides up under her shirt. The simple contact is enough to elicit a moan from her. Before he can get much further though, his phone rings and snaps him out of it.
His eyes flick to the clock. It's well after midnight. Nobody he knows would call him at this time of night – at least, nobody who wanted to live. Assuming it's a prank call, Sam gives a small shrug and, ignoring the ringing, focuses his attention back on Lindsay, thankful when his phone finally falls silent.
The silence, however, is short-lived. Seconds later the ringing starts up again. He groans and reluctantly pulls away from his girlfriend, a frown forming on his face as he reaches for his phone. There better be a good reason for the interruption.
"Just ignore it," Lindsay pleads, trying to pull him back in for another kiss.
Although his fingers are now curled around his phone, he briefly concedes, letting her draw him back in. But, each ring tugs a little more at his conscience and curiosity. And it really doesn't help that her whining has turned him off a little too. He hates when she whines – it's the least attractive thing about her, and it seems to be happening more frequently. Then again, whoever is calling has terrible timing, so this time her whining might be warranted. Quite honestly, he isn't exactly thrilled either. Still, Sam finds his curiosity winning. Holding up a hand to silence her, he climbs off the couch and connects the call. "Hello?"
"Sam?"
He frowns, not recognizing the voice. "Yeah?"
There's a brief pause. "Remember when you said I could call you if I needed help?"
His mind races for a moment before it settles on brown hair and brown eyes. "Andy?"
"Yeah."
"What's going on?" he asks, his eyebrows furrowing.
"I could really use some help right now."
"What's wrong? Are you okay?" he presses as he moves a little further away from the couch. Andy sounds out of breath, but there's something else that's off too, he just can't quite put his finger on it.
"Uh," Andy says before a curse escapes her. She steps back into the alley and presses her body up against the brick wall. "I don't know… I'm just… I… I don't know what to do." She groans. With each passing minute she can feel her focus slipping and her body slowly shutting down. The thought of blacking out or waking up in some unknown part of the city terrifies her. "How fast can you get to Wellesley and... and Bay Street?"
Sam runs a hand over his face. "You're serious?"
"Yeah?"
He can hear the uncertainty in her voice, like maybe she's doubting the sincerity of his offer. His eyes flick to Lindsay. This isn't going to go over well. "Ten or fifteen minutes," he finally says.
"Thank you," she breathes. Seconds later the call is disconnected.
Sam stares at his phone for a long moment before walking back to Lindsay. "I have to go."
"Who was it?"
"Cop's kid," Sam says, shrugging. "Needs help."
Lindsay frowns. "Why ask you?"
He hesitates. "Because I told her she could," Sam replies, grimacing at Lindsay's reaction. She most definitely is not impressed. He can't exactly blame her though – they'd been moments away from having sex and he'd just agreed to help another woman… kid? Woman? Hell, he doesn't know what she is anymore. The only thing he really knows at that moment is that he's an idiot, but he told Andy to call him if she needed help and she did. So what was he supposed to do?
"She?" Lindsay says, eyes narrowing.
"Uh yeah," Sam replies, trying not to make a big deal out of it as he puts on his jacket and slides his feet into his shoes.
"How old is she?" She's standing now with her hands planted on her hips.
"Too young to concern you." He kisses her quickly before leaving her place, knowing full well that he's going to pay for that. But, by the time he reaches his truck, he realizes that even if this causes things to go south, he probably won't be all that disappointed. After all, even Oliver's surprised that it lasted this long. And, quite frankly, he is too.
Scene 2
Within fifteen minutes he's pulling up to the corner of Wellesley and Bay, jumping a little when the passenger door swings open and Andy throws herself inside. He watches as she hastily does up her seatbelt, then slouches down in the seat and tugs on the hood of her jacket so it covers more of her face. Her shoulders are noticeably rising and falling, and her breathing is heavy. She's definitely been running.
"Can you just..." she begins, but falls silent as she rubs her eyes and groans. Ever since she called him. her focus has been fading in and out, and right now, it's on its way out again. "I just need…" The lights from an approaching car have her shrinking down in her seat, a little lower than before. "Just…" She blinks hard. What the hell is wrong with her? Her eyes are starting to betray her; words are failing her. For all she knows, he isn't really here. She could be passed out in an alley, or back at the residence. His truck, his presence, it could all be part of her imagination. "Drop me off… somewhere… away…" That's all she can manage, at least until her focus comes back. If it comes back.
Sam hesitates. He'd been right – something was definitely off with her. "Not until you tell me what's going on."
His voice sounds distant and blurred, almost like her head is submerged under water – it's all distorted. That is, if he actually spoke at all... If he's really even here. At this point she isn't exactly sure what to believe. The idea that she can't even trust her own instincts terrifies her, leaves her feeling a little numb.
When she remains silent, he reaches forward and yanks her hood back, causing her to jump and let out a small cry. His first thought had been that she'd gone to see her idiot boyfriend and that he'd hit her, but there's no sign of bruising.
Andy immediately yanks her hood back up, but not before he sees her glossy eyes and dilated pupils. She starts to panic. What the hell is going on? Why isn't he driving? Wasn't it supposed to wear off by now? Where are the cops? Is that a siren? That is a siren. Oh man. Why is he here? Did I call him? He's a cop. Oh my god, I called a cop. Just act cool. He doesn't know. He doesn't need to know. Stay calm. Just stare straight ahead. Maybe he won't notice.
"Are you on something?" he asks, eyes wide. He's only seen her a couple of times before, but she's never been like this. She's fidgeting, more than a little jumpy, and can't seem to focus. She's tripping out. Big time.
His voice cuts through the fog; it sounds a little clearer this time. She struggles to keep her eyes pointed straight ahead. Oh my god he knows. Lie. Just lie. He won't know. He can't. Doesn't know how to read women, right? Is it hot in here? Why is he so hot? He clearly works out; even with a jacket it's obvious. He should take it off. Yeah, he should definitely take it off. Is it just me or is it hot in here? Yeah, it's way too hot. Why doesn't he just take that damn jacket off? I wonder how he looks in uniform. Who am I kidding? That man would probably look good in anything… Even one of those stupid banana suits. She almost giggles at the thought, but manages to keep it in as her thoughts turn again. If he arrests me, will he pat me down? I wouldn't mind if… Focus. Lie. "I'm not…" She shakes her head, but everything is swimming in front of her eyes. "…Not on anything," she finally manages, her tone a little rough.
Sam snatches up her hand and holds it loosely in his palm. He can feel her trembling and suspects it has very little to do with natural adrenaline or fear.
He's so warm. Fire. Campfires. Her dad. Oh, he'll be mad. He can't know. Does Sam know? Why's he here? Oh yeah, I called him… I think. Why'd he come? Have we moved? I don't think we've moved. She squints as she looks out the side window, but her focus is so shot she can't even tell if it's the same building as before. Seriously if he keeps holding my hand like that I'm going to… What am I going to do? Is the rest of his body this warm? Focus. Pull your hand away. She felt her fingers curl around his hand. No. No. No. Pull it away. Don't jump him. Don't touch him. Don't look at him. She yanked her hand away, but couldn't stop herself from looking at him. He was studying her. That much she could tell, even if her vision wasn't great. Stop acting weird; he's getting suspicious. She narrowed her eyes. Be vulgar. He'll think that's normal. Vulgar or rude. Rude. Okay. "Didn't take you for a hand holder," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Not rude enough. How did I even form a whole sentence? Doesn't matter. Focus.
"And I didn't take you for an idiot," Sam retorts. She's definitely on some sort of drug, but her current symptoms aren't giving any indication as to which one.
Did he just call me an idiot? "If I'm an idiot," she begins, taking a deep breath as she struggles to string the words together. How is it that he made being an idiot sound sexy? Her eyes flick to his lips. I wonder what it would feel like… Focus. What was I saying again? Oh. Right. "And I beat you in poker…" She shakes her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. What would happen if I beat him at poker? No wait, I already did. But he thinks I'm an idiot. Bingo. "What does that make you?"
Sam's eyes widen. Truthfully, he's the idiot that's catering to the needs of a kid, but he's not about to admit that. Unbuckling his own seatbelt, he leans toward her and sniffs.
She knows she isn't thinking straight, but she's completely caught off-guard by his action. "Did you… did you just smell me?" she asks, staring at him in disbelief. He smells good. I hope I don't smell bad. Taking a deep breath she subtly tries to see if she smells, but all she can smell is him. She wants to pull him back when he moves away, but is distracted when a car door slams somewhere behind them. Again, she jumps.
The only thing he can smell is the alcohol in her breath, so whatever she took had to have been ingested or injected, not smoked. "Show me your arms."
"What?" Andy says, quirking an eyebrow, or at least that's what she's trying to do, but at this point she isn't quite sure if her body is cooperating.
"Push up your sleeves and show me your arms."
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Chill. You sound like a two year old, she silently scolds herself.
He stares at her for a long moment before shrugging off his jacket. Normally he wouldn't give in, but this might be the quickest way to get her to do what he wants. Sure enough, she follows suit. Wasting no time, he grabs her arms and examines them, turning them so he can take a better look. Seeing no sign of needle marks, he pulls back into his own seat and runs a hand over his face. What the hell is he supposed to do with her? "You didn't smoke it or inject it, so what the hell did you take?"
"Oh my god," Andy says, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Will you just give up?" He's not going to. What was I thinking? I wasn't.
"You called me," Sam replies, eyes narrowing.
He watches her shrink back as a cop car drives passed them. His patience is starting to wear thin. "Andy, what did you do?" His tone is sharp and demanding.
"I didn't... I didn't do anything." She's starting to panic. Struggling to see through the fog. Failing to find a way out of this mess. She rubs her face, cursing before unconsciously crying out and throwing her head into her lap. It's all too much to handle right now. Way too many thoughts and emotions are running through her, and she has no idea how to cope with all of it.
Sam takes a deep breath in an attempt to keep his temper from flaring up. "You called me around one in the morning, asking me to pick you up. It's obvious you ran from something and the sight of that cop car freaked you out." He pauses and takes another deep breath. She's too smart to be acting this stupid. And he's probably being stupid by helping her. "You can't involve me like this and not tell me what's going on, so unless you want me to turn around and follow that cop car back to the station, then you'd better be ready to give me an explanation."
"It's nothing," Andy says firmly, but when Sam turns the truck around and heads in the direction the cop car went, she reaches out and grabs his arm. "Okay... Okay, I'll tell you… Just go somewhere else, anywhere but here."
"Your house?" he asks, knowing full well that she's about as likely to want to go there as the station.
"Nooooo," Andy says. Is he serious? My dad will KILL me. "Uhhh…" She hesitates. She can't stay with Gail since she lives at home with her parents, and since she just came from her boyfriend's university that's out of the question too.
Sam glances at her, biting back a disgruntled sigh before turning down a side street and heading to his place. Along the way he glances over at her a few times, noting the slight shift in her demeanour each time. When they finally pull up to his house, he starts to get out, but pauses when he realizes she hasn't budged. "Coming?" he asks.
She raises her hand so it's about a foot away from her face and starts rotating it, tilting her head as she stares at it in fascination.
"McNally?" he says, raising his voice a little.
She jumps. Her head snaps in his direction. "Huh?"
"Get out," he says, gesturing to the building.
"Oh," she says, but as she looks at him, she breaks out in a fit of giggles.
He curses. Whatever she's on clearly hasn't fully made its way through her system yet – he only hopes that the laughing means she's winding down. He can't be sure though and that makes him nervous – if something happens to her while she's in his care... "I'm taking you to the hospital," he mutters. He just can't risk being wrong.
"No," Andy cries, fumbling with the door handle for a second before tumbling out of the truck and onto the pavement.
Sam scrambles out of the vehicle and runs around to the other side to find her lying on the ground laughing. "I'm not going to risk having you die just because—"
"I'm not going to die," she says, but she can't finish speaking without laughing again.
"Prove it. Tell me what you're on and how much you took." He reaches down and helps her up.
"Not out here," she says in a hushed voice, putting a finger to his lips. Soft, just like I originally thought. I bet he's a good kisser. Probably better than Tyler.
He gently pulls her hand away and tries to help her back into the truck.
"Let go," she says, struggling against him. Each breath is short and sharp. Tears threaten to spill over. Her entire body is trembling harder.
"You need to go to the hospital," Sam hisses, his eyes flicking to a guy passing by.
"No," she says, shoving him away. She starts heading down the street, stumbling slightly with every few steps she takes.
"Stop," Sam says, quickly catching up to her and gently grabbing her arm.
"I'm not…" She blinks hard, trying to focus. "I'm not going."
"Okay, just come inside then," Sam says, forcing himself to use a gentler tone. There's no way he's going to let her go off on her own, and he has a feeling that if he picks her up and tries to put her in his truck, he won't be able to keep her there long enough to get in the other side.
She tries to shake him off. The tears finally spill over. "What do you care?"
He stares at her. Is this what Tommy has to deal with everyday? He'd much rather see her on the ground laughing than have to deal with her stubborn streak, especially after the night he'd given up. "I don't want to see you get hurt or worse, okay?"
She laughs dryly. "I shouldn't have called you… You're exactly like them." She thought he was different, but the way he's treating her now, the way he's talking, it's the same thing she gets from her dad and Oliver. All the time. And she's sick of it.
"Then why did you?" Sam asks, not quite sure how he feels about being lumped into the same category as Oliver or her dad. As he speaks, he slowly pulls her towards his place. He suspects she really isn't even aware of the fact that they're walking.
"There isn't anyone else."
He frowns. She has her dad and Oliver, and from what he's heard, she has a lot of friends. Maybe nobody she can turn to about this though. That's when it hits him. "Where's your boyfriend? Why didn't you call him?"
She laughs again. "That idiot? He's probably sitting in the slammer waiting for his dad to talk his way out."
Sam frowns. "If he's such an idiot, then why are you with him?"
"His dad's some hot-shot lawyer, but Tyler's totally damaged. Not one of those preppy kids from school. He's real. A total screw-up... My dad would hate him."
His step falters. "If you're with him to get back at your dad for something, why hide it?"
Andy rubs her face and looks up at him. Her focus is starting to come back a little, but it's still not great. "I'm too far gone to have this conversation right now."
"Try."
Squinting up at him, she sighs. "What my dad doesn't know can't hurt him... can't make things worse... but it doesn't mean I can't find some joy in knowing that he'd completely flip if he found out."
"That's the most screwed up thing I've ever heard," Sam says.
"Yeah well, you know my dad, right? So you should know our family is pretty screwed up."
He manages to unlock his door and pull them inside without her realizing. Her eyes have been trained on his face the entire time; her thoughts have been focused on every word that came out of her mouth. Now that they're inside though and it's noticeably warmer, he watches as it finally starts to register with her.
"I… what…?" She blinks hard, taking in her new surroundings.
Sam pulls her further into his place, then gestures towards the couch in his living room. "Sit," he says, as he retreats to the kitchen to get a glass of water. When he returns, she's rubbing her eyes again. "Drink it," he says, passing her the glass.
She takes the water and downs half of it within a few seconds.
"So what happened?"
Andy sits down on the couch, her feet planted firmly on the floor as she turns to look at him. Seconds later though, she's pulling her feet up onto the couch, then shifting again so her legs are crossed. She changes positions a few more times before looking at him oddly. "I was supposed to go to a party."
"With Gail?"
"No," Andy says. "Well, I mean, she was there, but I wasn't supposed to go with her. She only went because I didn't really know anybody... and I don't know… it's Gail. We do everything together... Do you know her? You probably do. Her mom's like the superintendent so I'm sure you've met her daughter… or at least heard of her."
"Yeah, I know her," Sam says, trying to get Andy back on track. At this point though, he isn't sure if that's possible. He could barely get anything out of her before, and now that he has her talking, she's all over the place. Everything about her has been all over the place tonight: her moods, her actions, reactions, thoughts, focus, attitude toward him. Everything. And it was like someone had just flipped another switch in her.
"Okay, good, well maybe not good, she's kind of a real bitc—"
"Andy, I know who Gail is, so why don't you tell me where you were?"
"Oh, okay," Andy says, frowning. "Well, I was supposed to go to this rich kid's house party with Tyler, but apparently the kid screwed up the weekend his parents are out of town, so… who does that? I mean, he invited like over a hundred kids and—"
He waves his hand. "Where did you actually go?"
"Oh. Right. Umm, well it was one of the residences at the university. I don't even know which one anymore. Did you know that each residence has its own—"
Sam rubs his face. "What happened while you were there?"
"You know what I said about Gail? I meant it, but she's like my BFF. She's kind of like what Oliver is to you, you know?"
"Got it," Sam says. "Now what happened when you were at the residence?"
"I'm getting there," Andy says, rolling her eyes. "You're not very patient, are you?" Panic flashes across her face. "I mean, you're… uh… you're not going to take me back, are you? I didn't—"
"Focus," Sam says sharply. He nudges the glass of water towards her lips again and she obediently drinks the rest of it. Once empty, he takes the glass from her and goes to the kitchen to refill it, surprised when she follows him and pushes herself up onto one of the stools behind the counter.
Andy swivels in the chair, spinning it around several times until she sees Sam's face appear. In an attempt to stop herself, she grabs onto the counter, but is so dizzy at that point that she topples over.
Sam just barely manages to set the glass down in time to steady her. "I think that's enough spinning McNally."
Andy looks at her hands, which are firmly planted on his biceps. "You're fit. Like really fit." Her eyes shift to his chest before moving up to his face. "Did I just say that?" She shakes her head and blinks hard. "I—"
Sam releases her and hands her the glass of water, ignoring her comment. "You were about to tell me what happened at the residence."
"Yeah," she says, accepting the water from him. "They do a lot of really weird things there. Like this one guy was—"
Sam rubs his face. "Andy," he says sharply. "Focus on my question. I don't care what anyone else did. I don't care what you saw. Just tell me what's relevant. What did you take?"
"I…" Andy begins, but seconds later she's squeezing her eyes shut as a wave of nausea hits her.
Sam takes her hand and leads her to the bathroom, just barely making it there before Andy throws up. Sliding a hair elastic off her wrist, he pulls her hair back, then grabs a cloth and hands it to her.
Tears are streaming down her face when she finally pulls away from the toilet and sits down, leaning up against the counter.
"What did you take?" he asks again, his tone a little softer this time.
She hastily wipes away the tears and shakes her head. "I don't know."
He stares at her in disbelief. "You took something without knowing what it was?"
"No…" she says.
He gives her a hard look.
"Okay, well, maybe," Andy says weakly. "I mean, Tyler said he's done it before. Said it would loosen me up for a couple of hours, and like everybody was doing it there."
"So you thought you would too?"
"They were having fun."
Before she can ramble some more, he says, "Why though? Didn't you listen to anything I said before?"
"I heard you, but I... I snapped." She hesitates. "And I may have had too much to drink, and uh…"
"And what?" Sam presses.
Grimacing, she says, "I may have also had a brownie."
He stares down at her, struggling to school his features. "Let me guess, it was special?"
"Would you believe me if I said I didn't know?… That when I ate it, I didn't know it had weed in it," Andy says, wiping another tear away.
"Is that the truth?"
She nods.
"But you aren't just drunk and high on marijuana," Sam says. "What else?"
"I don't know," she says quietly. "It was some kind of pill… blue… It's supposed to be new."
"So you took something without knowing exactly what it was, and knowing that it was new?" he asks, stunned. "Do you have any idea how much product passes through this city that isn't clean? People die from this kind of thing. Why would you even risk that?"
"Because I'm tired," she says, the tears coming faster. "I'm sick of coming home to find my dad passed out on the couch. Sick of watching him drink his way to the bottom of one bottle after another. I don't want to have to deal with it anymore. I don't want to see it, or hear about it. But he won't stop or get help. And I can't ignore it anymore…"
"So you think this is better than what he's doing?"
Throwing herself towards the toilet once more, she empties the contents of her stomach. After wiping her face, she leans back against the cupboards. "I know it's not, but for a few hours, I was able to forget everything. Forget that there was a time when he was a good dad. Really good. The kind of guy that takes his daughter camping every year, reads a story before bed…"
"He loves you," Sam says.
"Yeah, well, it's always ramped up when people are over… puts on a show, tries to make it seem like everything's okay, but it's not. He hasn't been the same since my mom left," Andy replies. "You know, he doesn't come to any of my basketball or soccer games anymore, and he didn't even remember my birthday this year... I mean, I shouldn't be surprised, and I shouldn't be upset because it's not even a big deal. It's just a stupid day, but—"
"Did you talk to him about it?"
"I've tried, but he doesn't remember it in the morning anyway, and he won't listen when he's sober." She pauses. "I don't want to remember any of it though... I just wanted to have fun for one night, and just not care. I wanted to fit in, to feel like I belonged somewhere, and tonight I did."
"You don't have to do those things to fit in or be accepted," Sam says. "You're smarter than that."
"Can I have some more water?" she asks, rubbing her face.
He retreats to the kitchen to grab her glass and returns to find her passed out. After a hesitant moment, he slides down beside her. "I don't know what to do with you," he whispers.
Scene 3
The next day…
When Andy wakes up, the room is spinning, but she knows she's beyond the point where she'll be sick again. Head pounding, she squints as she tries to take in her surroundings, only faintly remembering coming to Sam's house. She remembers being in the bathroom, but she doesn't remember going there or coming back. And she's pretty sure she told him something, maybe even a lot; she just has no idea what. All she really knows is that right now she's on the couch in his living room. Sam is sitting on the opposite end, his head propped up by his left hand and his eyes closed. His breathing tells her he's still sleeping. Her eyes land on the clock. It's nine in the morning. She wonders how late they were up, and just how much she could have said in that time. Panic courses through her, but it doesn't last long. He helped her; he didn't arrest her. A small smile touches her lips before she slowly gets up off the couch and searches for a piece of paper and pen. When she finally finds what she needs, she scribbles a quick 'Thank you', then leaves the piece of paper on the couch before quietly making her way outside.
Thanks again for reading! Up next, Andy's life really starts to spiral out of control. But, what happens when Sam finally draws the line?