Page 21 of Sam
“What?!” I gape at him.
“It’s the right thing to do,” he tells me. Kissing his fingers, he places them on my lips before turning and getting on his bike.
He holds his hand out to me with a smirk. I realise I’m still standing there, looking stunned. When I glance around, the others are smirking at me, and some are outright laughing. Taking his hand, I get on the back of his bike and wrap my arms around him. I’d worry about him speaking to my dad later. For now, I’d enjoy the ride with the handsome, hot boy who gets my motor running with just a look.
***
I wake the next morning and run my hand over Sam’s side of the bed and find the sheets cold. I’m not worried. He usually gets up before me and gets some work in. My body aches in all the good ways that only come from being thoroughly fucked. And Jesus, Sam knows how to play my body. We’d stopped at a grocery store and bought a box of condoms. And we’d made good inroads into it, which would explain the stiffness in my body this morning.
Running my hands over my body, my hands graze my scar, and I stop as I run a finger over it. Not once had it seemed to bother Sam, and as for me, it’s the first time I didn’t think of it since the night of the attack.
Lifting my hands above my head, I stretch and luxuriate in how amazing I am feeling. That’s when it hit me. I wasn’t tired. I’d slept all night. For the first time in over a year, I slept through the entire night. It was an amazing feeling.
That feeling lasted until I found Sam’s note telling me he was going to go and speak to my dad and that I wasn’t to come home until he got back.
“Oh fuck,” I mutter. Reaching for my phone, I call Mum. “Hi, baby,” she sounded amused.
“Sam’s coming to see Dad,” I rush out.
“I know,” she chuckles, “I’m looking at him.”
“Oh, thank God. I was so worried.”
“You need to have faith in your dad, baby. He hasn’t even mentioned The Hole.”
“Mum!” I shriek, alarmed.
She laughs, and in the background, I can hear Jeanie joining in. “I hate you both,” I grumble, but I’m smiling.
“Relax, baby girl. Your man is safe on the veranda with your dad, uncles, and grandfather. So far, no blood has been shed, and I doubt it will if he keeps that smile on your face that you’ve been wearing the last month.”
“He told me not to come home until he’s spoken to them,” I groan, a little put out.
“He’s right, baby girl. Let him speak to them. He’s doing the right thing. Your dad and he will sort everything out. It’s old-fashioned, I know, but it’s the life we live.”
“I know,” I agree. “If Jeanie’s with you, do you fancy getting breakfast?”
“Breakfast,” Mum chuckles, “Ally, it’s one in the afternoon.”
“No way,” I say in disbelief. “Wow. I slept all night.”
My mum understands the significance of that, and she was a little choked up when she asks, “All night, love?”
Tears prick my eyes, and my nose burns as I hold back my tears, “All night, Mum. I always sleep well when I’m with Sam, but last night was the first time I slept all night.”
“That’s fantastic, baby girl,” Mum replies, then says something to, I’m assuming, Jeanie.
Yep, it’s my sister because the foghorn bellows so that I can hear her, “That’s what a good dicking will do for you, big sister.”
I snort out a laugh and laugh harder when Mum says in an aggrieved tone, “Jesus, Jeanie, your mouth,” but she’s laughing when she says it. “We’ll meet you at the café for lunch in forty minutes. Be prepared, your aunts are coming with.”
I laugh because, while I know they’ll want to check on me, it will mostly be for gossip. And I’m right when they all turn up and grill me. I’m bright red by the time they're finished with me.
Abby, Molly, and the rest of the Crow Old Ladies join us, plus Bren, Ellie, and Carly. We move to the pub for a few drinks, and that’s where Sam finds me when he walks in with the men from my family. He’s still in one piece.
“You’re alive!” I shout out, waving my arms.
“Fuck’s sake, baby girl,” Dad says, rolling his eyes, and Sam laughs. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he pulls me towards him for a kiss. It’s long and deep and hot, so fucking hot. We only pull apart when Dad complains. “All right, all right, put my girl down.”
