Page 75 of The Love You Fight For
“I’ve been busy,” I say. “It’s only been two days.”
“You are to tell us when you leave town. You are to check in every morning and every evening. These were the t?—”
“I don’t owe you every aspect of my life,” I snap, cutting her off. “Jesus, Agent, it was two fucking days.”
She takes a deep, irritated breath before she responds, and when she speaks, each word is like a lashing. I wince, and my shoulders cave inward as tears threaten to fill my eyes.
“Are you forgetting thatyoucame tous, Ms. Harper?Yousoughtmeout. You requested my assistance because you aren’t capable of achieving the desired results on your own, and in doing so, you agreed to do this my way. You said this was the most important thing. Theonlyimportant thing. Has something happened? Has that changed in the last two days?”
I swallow hard and shake my head, blinking away the tears, willing them to disappear. She’s ruthless. Unwavering and unforgiving. She’ll stop at nothing to succeed, and that’s exactly why I chose her.
“No. Nothing has changed,” I force out, hating every syllable.
“Okay.” Agent Sexton sighs. “Because there’s been a development.”
NINETEEN
I glanceup from the sink full of soapy water just as Sam hurries to the door, dragging her brown-and-gold designer suitcase behind her.
“Whoa.” I drop the plate back into the sink and dry my hands on my shorts as I rush out after her. “Whoa, hold up. What’s going on?”
I grab her wrist and she stops walking, but she snatches her hand away from me, and my heart falls to my stomach.
“What’s going on, Sam?” I ask again warily. “Where are you going?”
She’s wearing her sunglasses, but I can tell she won’t look at me.
“I’m having Lennon take me back to Franklin,” she says quickly, glancing everywhere but in my direction. “I need to go.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve been here too long, Casper,” she snaps. “I need to get back to civilization. I need good internet and a facial, and I have things to do. I can’t hole up out here in the woods with you and ignore my real life any longer. I don’t belong here.”
I flinch, but I don’t say anything right away. I blink slowly. I breathe deeply. Then I choose my words very carefully.
“What happened in the last ten minutes, princess? Is everything okay?”
“Stop fucking calling me that,” she says, her voice cruel. “I have a name. It’s Samantha. Use my fucking name.”
My head is spinning. I can’t get my bearings. I don’t understand what’s happening. I feel like everything is slipping through my fingers, like the bubble that had been keeping us safe all weekend has popped and I’m plummeting to the ground.
“You didn’t mind me calling you princess before...”
It’s the only thing I can think to say. I’m grasping for clues.
“That was before it started to sound like a term of endearment.”
Her voice cracks on the words, showing me the first fissure in her façade, and I shake my head. I take a step closer. I slide my hand to her neck and rest my fingers on her pulse point, then press my forehead to hers. Her muscles are so tense, her inhales and exhales shaky. She’s coiled so tightly I’m worried she’ll snap.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Take a deep breath. Whatever happened, we can work through it together.”
She’s quiet for a moment, and for a fraction of a second, she leans into me. A brief moment of tenderness, of surrender before she steps back, widening the distance between us, and my hand that was holding her drops empty to my side.
Sam clenches her teeth and sniffs. Every ounce of real emotion that I felt flowing from her a breath earlier disappears. And then she laughs. I can tell she’s going for cruel, but I hear the sadness there, and then I remember Macon’s words from just days earlier.
Her bite fucking hurts, but her bark is worse. And usually the nastier she is, the closer you are to something she’s trying to protect.
“The only thing that happened is that I’ve grown tired of this,” she says pointedly. Regally. “I’m bored. I need Pilates. I need brunch that isn’t swimming in grease. I need air conditioning, a professional massage, and conversation that doesn’t put me to sleep. I need to go back to D.C. where I belong, and you may remain here.”
