16. Sixteen
Sixteen
8-31-2024
I knew what I was doing.
-Sam
“Hello?”
“How long has it been?”
“Too long.”
Sharkie and Caspian's voices overlap, finally breaking through the static mixed with the screams begging to erupt in my mind. I glance down at Jasmine, who looks like she’s about to pass out in my arms. Delilah holds her other arm, but I pull Jasmine closer to me.
I don’t want anyone else touching her, looking at her, or getting near her. She’s mine to protect, and I've failed.
“They're bringing our cars around,” Jonathan says as he smooths his suit and glances back at the restaurant.
I need to inform my superiors to get Moe so he can check for any bugs in our room; the interaction with the two babbling idiots isn’t sitting well in my stomach. Besides, it’ll give me a fucking reason to go back in there and beat them to a bloody pulp.
Mission. Focus on the mission. No. Fuck that.
I can’t when Jasmine leans more of her body weight into my side and clutches her arms around her abdomen. I should be praising her, cheering her on, and complimenting how incredibly well she caught onto something that none of us would typically be able to process in that time frame. Instead, I find myself silently praying to a God who has me blacklisted, hoping that he’ll keep her breathing.
“She needs rest to sleep it off,” Delilah hums in a whisper, seemingly unfazed by the circumstances.
“You think I don’t bloody know that?” I snap. Just then, our car pulls up. The boy is startled when I rip the passenger door open and help Jasmine into her seat.
“Easy,” Jonathan mutters, and I fight the urge to turn and punch him in the face repeatedly like I did the first time we met.
I brush a stray hair from her pale face, ensuring her seatbelt is secure. She gives a lopsided smile, but it does little to ease the tension tightening in my chest.
“She’ll be okay. She got an antidote. I’m sure she’ll be sluggish and a little delirious for a while, but it’s fine.” Jonathan says in a low whisper. His words make me slam the door shut and turn toward him quickly, our chests nearly touching.
Is he forgetting who he’s talking to? He may be a high-ranking soldier with a title more important than mine, but he’s not my superior. He should be more concerned when discussing her, considering she’s the only thing preventing me from reliving our little meeting , as he likes to call it.
“As soon as you're in the car, we need updates,” Caspian crackles through the radio, forcing me to calm my temper. I step back; I need Jonathan by my side to get through this as quickly as possible and bring her back home, where I know nothing will hurt her but me.
Jonathan raises an eyebrow, and I collect my thoughts before rounding the car.
“We’d love to see you both tomorrow night,” I say, hoping he will understand my implication. I want to prepare for whatever may come our way next. We have names; now we just need locations.
He nods in response, but I can’t dwell on it as I slide into the driver’s seat and screech away from the restaurant—my mind races, trying to create a schedule for everything I need to do.
“Update Sam,” Sharkie says calmly, replacing Caspian's voice.
No, I can't yet. Just give me a minute. I need to…
I flick my gaze to Jasmine as she leans back against the headrest, her lashes fluttering.
What’s first? Get her to a bed and check on her… the mission.
I shake my head and settle on what I have to do.
Check if the car is bugged, so I need to get to a secluded location.
“I swear to God…”
I groan as Caspian's voice keeps coming through.
I need quiet. Let me hear the screams so I can remember who I am and remind myself that these feelings are warranted each time I look at Jasmine. I jerk the car into a side street, wincing at the way Jasmine's body slings against her seatbelt when I hit the emergency break.
No, no, no. That’s wrong, Sam. You need quiet to ensure the safety of your team.
I feel like I’m fucking suffocating again with this push and pull of what I need to do.
Check on her… . I rush out of the car, brushing my hand through my hair pulling the strands. I examine each inch of the exterior for anything out of place or devices that might have been placed.
“This is fantastic. I'm glad Carlisle finally accepted my invitation. So you're the best he has, huh?” The prime minister smiles as he takes another drink from his glass.
I look at the guards in all corners of the room before nodding.
“Look,” he pauses and sets down his glass as he leans forward on his elbows. We don't want any trouble. I'm sure we can work something out, right? We all have the same blood.”
“Do you plan on surrendering?” I ask as I lean back in the seat.
“We can negotiate an alternative," the prime minister bites out, and I smile.
“It was a pleasure doing business, sir, but unfortunately, my superior expects the whole world, not just half of it,” I state casually as I stand from my seat and brush my hands down my fatigues. A cough follows with a gasp, and a hard thump hits the table. The guards–my men–start laughing as they trail me out of the room, through the extravagant setting onto Downing Street. I give Carlisle a firm nod, and he addresses the crowd gathered in the area.
As I scan the faces, they blur together until I focus on one in particular. He doesn’t flash the toothy grin we shared as kids, nor is he clapping like I had expected. But just as I prepare to move through the bustling crowd toward him, another person steps into his place.
“You're a resilient little son of a bitch, aren't you? I see why your parents chose the high instead.” My uncle purrs, and I look around to find myself not in the middle of a street but in that damn building that follows my nightmares. Needles stick to the bottom of my feet as I try to take a step back, and a god-awful smell fills the room as my uncle's friends laugh.
“Don't worry. You only have eight years with me until I can get a pretty penny out of you. By the time you get to them, you'll know to do as your told and keep your fucking mouth shut.” I flick my gaze over to my cousin, who holds his bloodied nose, but instead of cowering like I am, he's fuming.
One day, I'll be bigger like him–stronger. No one will be able to touch me. Brady tackles my uncle, but before they hit the ground, my uncle's friends rush to the spot, and my vision goes dark as something jabs into the side of my neck.
“God damn it, Sammy. I swear if I have to keep fighting for your ass… Suck it up and take the line they offer you next time.” Brady mutters, and I open my eyes. Instead of seeing his furrowed brows or feeling him clean a wound like I usually would, blue and red lights flicker in and out. The hues illuminate the broken-down building as cops and paramedics rush around the scene behind a dark glass.
“Come on, talk to us. We can work out a negotiation.” A voice comes through the crack in the window before huffing, “Just tell us where Brady is. If he comes out here and vouches for what others are saying, you can plead insanity. Get a lesser sentence because you didn’t know what you were doing.”
I laugh and turn away from Bill as my thumbs brush over the cuff links behind my back.
I knew what I was doing.
I stand up, brushing my hand through my hair, trying to smooth the mess I’ve created and calm myself down once I realize the car is clear.
They're smart, but fortunately, they must have been too distracted by our presence to notice they had the perfect opportunity to bug us. My mind races as I realize the implications of Casey's words: they're watching us, not just where we go or how we act in their settings—everywhere we can be.
I get into the car, trying to steady my breathing, but as I glance over at Jasmine and see her head leaning limply against the glass, a surge of panic hits me.
In an instant, I move over the center console, crowding her space, grasping her cheeks, and tapping my palm against her face to pull her focus.
"I swear to the devil if you don't—"
Jasmine swats my hands away with an aggravated, groggy growl, and I take a deep breath.
“Open your damn eyes, and don't fucking close them until I tell you to.” I snap, and her lashes shoot open, fluttering to try and adjust, wide with fear. I flick my gaze between Jasmines before throwing the car in drive.
“I heard a voice!”
“Damn it, Sam, use your bloody words!”
“Get me, Moe!” I bite out, my impatience rising.
“Give me an answer!” Caspian snaps back. I know I shouldn't be demanding anything from my superior, but I’m running out of time, and my mind is fried.
“On it.” Sharkie intervenes. I flick my gaze back to my little devil and gently place my hand on the nape of her neck, brushing my thumb over the pulse point to keep her head up. I need her to stay awake; she has no choice.
“I’m sorry.” Jasmine murmurs, causing my brows to furrow and my grip to tighten reflexively around her neck. Why the hell is she apologizing?
The street lamps begin to flicker as they pass over the car's hood, but I slow my speed to the limit, allowing myself enough time to assess our situation.
“You said you guys didn't need me tonight.” Moe's voice is distant, but I’m relieved to hear it. He knows just as much as I do at this point. He can get through walls faster than Caspian and get me the answers I need.
“Moe!” Jasmine exclaims.
“Sam, you should let her rest. There's no telling what they gave her or what reactions she'll have even with the antidote. It can make her delirious or irritable.” Sharkie sighs .
“You always sound so grumpy.” Jasmine purrs.
“Run a sweep of the hotel. Locate every camera and microphone on the premises.” I demand. Jasmine shifts and runs her hands over her face.
“Just spit it out. Sam, what's the problem?” Caspian breaks through.
“Besides my wife being fucking poisoned as some sick test of our loyalty to people we don't fucking know?” I bite out but draw in a deep breath, trying to calm the red spots in my vision. “I don't know if we have one yet, but we're damn close to something. Too many eyes are looking in our direction. We got a wonderful introduction from the restaurant host and, surprisingly, the hotel's owner.”
Jasmine giggles, and I roll my eyes as she breaks into laughter.
“Watch your tone, soldier.”
I swallow.
“Uh.. Sam.” Moe clears his throat so his following words come out strong and collected. “Yesterday, when we swept, it was clear in all the rooms. I did a sweep last night, and it was clean besides the regulated security precautions, but I'm getting pings in at least eight different rooms now.”
“What does that mean?” Jasmine murmurs, her voice still hoarse, but her giggles sobered a little. I gently squeeze her nape once more.
“All pings are rooms of the people attending the ball. If I disconnect yours, I'll raise alarms, but I'm sure I can mess with the audio to try and at least make your voices muffled. They can blame it on a technical error.” Moe murmurs.
I stare at the hotel as it comes into sight, and my knuckles turn white against the steering wheel.
“Yeah, do that, but it still means the only place we can keep in contact is the car if it doesn’t get bugged next. That’s not the best scenario since we’re going out tomorrow night.” I wince when something jabs at my throat and quickly look at Jasmine, who is studying me with furrowed brows.
“That’s new…” she whispers, poking at what I believe is the vein that protrudes when I’m feeling overwhelmed.
“ You got backup?” Caspian asks, and I try to tilt my head away to focus on my response.
“Yes, sir.”
Jasmine huffs, and her touch leaves my skin.
“We will watch you two as much as possible.”
The car gently comes to a stop, and I loosen my grip on Jasmine's neck.
She’s still dizzy and out of it, so I slide my fingers through her hair and gently pull the device from her ear, repeating the motion with my own. Her soft hum of contentment is enough to calm me, if only a little.
Tucking the devices into my pocket, I round the car and lift her out bridal style, nuzzling my nose into her hair as her head falls against my chest.
“I'm sorry.” She whispers into my chest, and I wish she'd just stop apologizing. Especially when I don’t know what the fuck it is she’s so sorry for.
I clear my throat and walk through the lobby with a confident stride. Once we're in the elevator, I gently nudge her head with my nose, prompting her to tilt it to the side, allowing me to place my mouth near the shell of her ear as if I'm going to whisper.
I speak loud enough that if anyone is listening, they can hear me clearly, "I'm sorry I took a wrong turn to get us here. We'll get you in bed soon."
She makes a sound that suggests she might start giggling again, but before she can respond, I step out of the elevator and lead us to our room.
"Can you stand for a moment?" I ask.
She nods, and I lower her slightly to retrieve the key card and open the door. She tries to enter on her own, but I wrap my arm tightly around her waist to keep her by my side as she stumbles, giggling and grasping at anything to stabilize herself while I guide her to the bedroom.
If she were drunk, I might find the sight endearing; it could even make me laugh. But the concern outweighs any humor in our situation.
I lift her by her hips and place her on the edge of the bed before dropping to my knees to unbuckle the straps of her black heels. She’s too quiet and still, so I glance up to find her staring at me with hooded eyes and her lip caught between her teeth. Yeah, I definitely have a heart because it's beating against my ribs, pumping all my blood straight to my cock at the wrong damn moment.
Needing a distraction from how my body is reacting, I focus on the dark, hand-shaped bruise I had created and place my mouth to it as I toss her heels to the side. The feel of her smooth skin under my lips is too addicting to pull back now, so I take my time to drag my hands up the back of her thighs, then back down with her garter so I can tuck the knife into my sleeve in the process.
“Do you need anything to drink?” I murmur against her skin before pulling away. Her shoulders shake with a shiver as I stand and guide her to lie back on the pillows. I should've known delirious questions would start coming, but I can't respond properly to them right now. Seeing her sprawled out and willing is tempting me into giving the assholes the show they’re so desperate to see.
I can rip that dress off her so they know exactly who she belongs to. Who woman they fucked with. Let them hear whose name she’ll cry. ”
“Come here. I'm cold, and you're always so warm.” She whispers and sprawls her hands above her head. Swallowing hard, I tilt my chin and look down at her as I pull off my jacket. Keeping the blade tucked in the sleeve, I fold it over her nightstand.
“Get under the covers, little devil.”
Slowly, I unbutton my shirt, relishing the fire that ignites in her eyes.
She looks at me like I'm some kind of god that she's ready to worship. Little does she realize that she's the one with all the power. All she has to do is sit on her throne made of flames, and I'll gladly drop to her feet as the fire eats at my skin so that she can point me toward the next soul she wants to keep.
“This better not be another one of your little moments,” she says, begrudgingly complying as she tosses the covers aside, a mix of sleepiness and irritation in her voice. Just as she begins to pull the duvet back up, I nudge my knee between hers and place the blanket over us while I brace my arms on either side of her head.
“I’m here,” I murmur, leaning closer.
“I’m warmer, but I'm still not hot enough. You should come closer...” Her words escape in a breath against my mouth.
“I wouldn't want you to get burned.” I laugh, but her eyes lock with mine, and my smile fades as I notice how close her lips are to mine.
“Have you ever touched fire?” she whispers.
“When I’m near you,” I pause, brushing her hair back. “It feels like I’m caught in an inferno. It's not like touching fire but more like being stuck in it with no way out.”
“You burn for me?” Her nose grazes mine.
“I let the flames consume me, leaving only ash for you to walk on every single time, Darlin’,” I mutter as my lips whisk against hers.
She gasps, “Why would you do that?"
“So you never have to know that kind of heat.”
Before she can say anything else I catch her lip between mine with a low groan. My restraint fades with every glide of her mouth. It’s too smooth, almost natural, as if we've done this a thousand times before and will do it a million more. I need to slow down. I want to enjoy her in the most inhumane ways possible, but I can't do that right now. Not when she’s unable to feel every moment. I tear my mouth from hers and run it along her cheek to her jaw.
“Go to sleep, darlin’,” I whisper.
“Wh—”
“Please.” I kiss her throat, then her shoulder, and as her breathing slows, I kiss her head and pull her close, burying my nose in her hair.
“It's dark, Sam.” I sigh as her words trail into a soft breath, and she falls asleep
“I know, but you got your time to shine tonight.”