6. Sam
6
SAM
Maximus glances at me after a long survey of The Thirsty Fox’s comings and goings.
“She’s gone, buddy,” I drawl.
She works here, and this bar isn’t going anywhere, but to see her disappear just now is like suffering from an irreversible loss.
My hands clasp together, trying to preserve the sensation of holding her. She was lying on that alleyway behind the bar, next to a van which, fittingly, stamped with a Fallen Angel logo. Right there, she gave me the most profound gaze, like she’d just woken up from a dream and into another dream. It was admiration in her eyes, I’m sure of it, and I was the only one there to soak it in.
As if following my thoughts, my dog releases a low bark.
“Don’t even think about it,” I warn him as his hunter instincts kick in, his body tensing like he’s ready to sprint off. “Maximus, stay!” And just like the soldier he is, he obeys and settles down. “That’s my boy.”
Ordering a pair of Fox cheeseburgers, which the waitress swears are killer, I wonder what the hell got into Max earlier. He’s never so much as barked at a stranger before, let alone pounced.
It shouldn’t have happened. Either my fitness had gone downhill already now that I’m in between missions, or Max is hiding some kind of canine super strength. Regardless, Max was legit lucky this time—had he done what he did to another stranger, he could’ve been put down.
What drew him to her, I can’t figure out. I’m sure it wasn’t retaliation for what he thought was a violation of his ass at the vet. The dog sensed something in her, like I did. Was it the pull in her eyes, flickering between confrontation and retreat, or her voice, hitting notes that made the background jazz pale in comparison? Or maybe it was the affection that radiated out of her when she said ‘I love you’ to whoever was on a call with her then (I suspect it was her daughter, as I saw Grace’s Daycare on her phone screen; surely she wouldn’t say that to anyone else at a daycare).
Or maybe it’s in her strength. She’s not one you could easily cross. Case in point: the loudmouth looking to toss us out. She had the balls to put him back in his place and defend my dog.
The waitress goes on, “Drinks, guys?”
I’m assuming Mark is going to answer. Instead he softly kicks my foot.
“Um… sorry?” I say innocently.
“What would you like to drink?” the waitress repeats with a smile.
I leave my internal debate for another time, concluding that the woman I’ve been infatuated with is probably, regrettably, off the market.
“If you’re not sure, may I suggest Fallen Angel?” the waitress offers. “It’s a new brand that we’re trialing. If you like bitter and crisp ale, you should try it.”
Mark nods. “Two Fallen Angels, then.”
I’m tempted to ask the waitress the name of my own fallen angel, but convincing myself that I should keep my dignity intact, I simply smile, thanking her.
The band is playing their third or fourth song. Still, I can’t erase the goosebumps peppering the back of my neck, nor can I ease the abnormal heart rate wreaking havoc inside my ribcage.
Mark’s eyes roam the bar. “Feels right here,” he muses.
“Good feng shui?” I rib him.
Mark was a green beret who has been awarded three Silver Star medals. He’s logical and meticulous, and never superstitious. He may have a baby face, but he means business. I know he asked me to meet in downtown Helena for a reason.
He chuckles. “Maximus picked it.”
“Huh.” I glance at my dog. He’s asleep at my feet.
“Plus, it’s like a sister to Red Mark’s fox,” my partner quips.
Red Mark’s logo is a fox. We chose it because the fox is a resilient and resourceful animal with sharp tracking instinct. Besides, they’re one of the most protective in the canine family.
“A new local?” I play along, even though the gears are turning in Mark’s head about something bigger. “But our office is thirty-five miles away from here.”
He takes a swig of the Fallen Angel. “Whoa, this beer is something else!”
I taste the ale—hell yeah, this has become my favorite already.
Mark observes the crowd, as if imagining himself being part of the action every Friday afternoon after work. Not that what we do is a Monday-to-Friday thing, but I think he’s visualizing our futures here, in this city.
“So, out with it. What’s on your mind?” I prod.
“You know, we’re doing pretty well—on our way to settling up with the investors, and we’ve built up some solid cred. Plus, the pipeline’s shaping up nicely. But the office? The location isn’t exactly convenient, is it? And facilities are limited,” he argues. “We’re here to serve, right? We’ve gotta make it easier for people to reach us.”
“Well, most of our clients have our private numbers,” I reason.
“Yeah, but?—”
“You’re eyeing Ivy,” I tease, knowing Ivy Forbes’ office is just blocks away.
Mark kicks my foot hard this time. “That’s the shittiest thing you’ve said all day!” he complains.
I laugh, catching the tail end of his reaction before our attention is stolen by her arrival.
“Why is she here?” he murmurs.
“Even the universe agrees with me. It’s a sign,” I insist. “Look, her marriage is on the rocks, there’s nothing wrong with making a move.”
“Stop it, Sam. I mean it. No more,” Mark gripes—but at the same time he keeps glancing at Ivy, who doesn’t seem to notice us.
“Just admit it, man.”
He leans toward me. With a cunning stare, he turns the table. “Well, how about that stunner you’ve been fretting about in your head?”
I narrow my gaze as he grins victoriously.
“She’s taken. She has a daughter,” I say. “I saw it on her cell. Grace’s Daycare.”
“You know that could mean many things, right?”
“Come on, Mark. You don’t have to hope on my account.”
“You need someone. You’re the type who needs someone.”
I frown at his remark. “I’m what?”
“You’re the needy type.”
“No, I’m not!”
Mark leans back. “Imagine this, if that bar manager was your girlfriend…”
“She’s married.”
“Humor me here, man. If that bar manager was your girlfriend, and you loved her and she loved you, would you have done what you did on top of the Mountain Hotel?”
“What did I do?” I pretend to have no knowledge of the event.
“Huh. Mr. Bourne has lost his memory?”
Without hesitation I answer, “I would do it—girlfriend or no girlfriend. It was a child’s life. Anything else would be secondary.”
Mark maintains his gaze on me, silently asking, are you sure?
The first answer that comes to you isn’t always the best answer, I know.
I angle my face toward the bar entrance, replaying the moment she strode out of the bar. Her sexy hips swayed as she gave me a last glance. And her tiny waist—what would I sacrifice to be able to hold it as I draw her close? She wasn’t the usual type of woman who would capture my attention, let alone leave a mark on my heart.
My past girlfriends were usually super blonde, wide-eyed and skinny, like Sienna. Not that I worshipped my first teenage crush to the point that I sought a companion who resembled her. It just happened that I kept falling for the same kind of girls.
The fallen angel was different in every way. She has slick caramel hair, and her eyes actually remind me of another old crush—Taylor Swift—although there’s more power packed behind her eyes than any woman I’ve seen. Her shoulders were broad, and she was more than firm—she’s taut, I know it because my hand was holding her. She was wearing a short skirt, revealing her long and slender legs. They’re not as muscly as her upper body, but I’m sure they were made for walking a hard road if not climbing mountains.
Most of all, she has captivated me like no other has. I still can’t pinpoint what it is, but the more I try to forget her, the more I seek the vision of her.
“I’m not interested in starting anything,” I say dismally.
“Afraid of her breaking your heart?” Mark gives me a look, which to me says, ‘so you admit there’s a chance of you two getting together.’
My last girlfriend cheating, it hurt, but my heart was never broken as there was no love involved. As a matter of fact, I question whether love had ever been the reason for any of my relationships. I had them because I wanted to feel normal. It was my way of burying my regrets and hurt that came from losing Jack. But as I’ve learned, relationships aren’t meant to fill a gap, they’re meant to build you up—and I don’t have even the foundation to do it.
I sigh. “Nah. I just don’t want to hope.”
“You’ve said that word twice now. Hope . Why are you afraid of hope?”
If it was her waiting for me to come home, would I risk my life so readily as I’d done on the top of the Mountain Hotel?
Fucking Mark! Why did he put me in this position?
“Evening, gents,” Ivy greets us, saving me from having to answer my partner.
“Mrs. Forbes,” Mark stands up. She has come to our table with one of her advisors, Charlie Travis, a guy from Britain who claimed that he was the father of Calamity Jane in his past life. He moved to Montana when he was fifteen and he’s been a U.S. citizen ever since.
“Soon-to-be Ms. Cavanagh,” Ivy clarifies.
“Ms. Cavanagh,” Mark revises his greeting.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Mark. Call me Ivy.”
My partner may be the strongest man I’ve known—in battle, in business, and in life—but in the presence of his secret love, he’s coming apart at the seams.
Ivy goes on, “Never thought I’d see you here. A new job?”
He responds, “We just needed a change.”
Recognizing a possible awkward pause, I chime in, “How’s Noah?”
“He’s alright. He’s seeing a therapist, but we’re hopeful that the trauma won’t be permanent. I can’t thank you two enough.” She smiles warmly. “And Sam, even though you hate it, what you did up there deserved acknowledgment. You’re a hero.”
I shake my head. I know she’s referring to my recent outburst at one of the press conferences. “I’m no hero, Ivy.” I take a deep breath, escaping her stare. But she soon turns her gaze to Mark anyway.
Silence follows as we’re unable to decide where to look and what to say.
“What d’you think of that?” Charlie nods at our almost-empty bottles of Fallen Angel, rescuing the conversation.
“It’s amazing!” I say.
“I thought the same, Sammy Boy. My next business venture would be to import those babies into Britain,” Charlie quips.
“Two cheeseburgers?” The waitress comes with a tray of two well-stacked and delicious-looking burgers.
“Would you care to join us?” I invite Ivy and Charlie, which prompts Mark to send a secret cringe at me.
“Oh no, you guys enjoy your meals,” Ivy says. “I just wanted to say hello.”
“Hey, Ivy.” I stop her from turning away. “We’re having a party this weekend at my place. It’s Red Mark’s anniversary. You’re invited.”
A smile paints her face while her eyes flick to Mark, as if asking whether he’ll be there—even though it should be a given. “Congratulations, guys!” she responds. “Send me the details and I’ll see if my schedule allows.”
“It’s a Saturday,” I say while my partner tosses me a horrified look.
“My job knows no weekend. You know that, Sam,” she says. “Besides, I heard the weather is going to be nasty.”
“I’ll come,” Charlie says and pats my back.
“A party?” Mark bites out as Ivy and Charlie step away. “Red Mark’s anniversary?”
I made it up. “Hey, it’s my party, and who cares what we’re celebrating?”
“Fine! I bet she won’t come.”
“Did you notice Ms. Cavanagh was sans wedding ring?” I tease him.
“Stop it, Sam.” He clutches his dinner knife. “You keep saying you’re learning to be me, and now you’re trying to make me fall in love?”
I laugh at him, and only stop to gorge a mouthful of my cheeseburger. Fuck me! The waitress meant it when she said it was the best in Montana.
I push thoughts of Mark’s bachelorhood to the side, keen on avoiding his analysis of my love life, and that dreaded label of ‘needy’ he threw earlier.
“So, tell me again,” I say and then pause to have another bite. “Why did you take us to Helena?”
“Our new office,” Mark says with conviction.
That makes me pause mid-chew.
He adds, “Look, we’re at a point where we can handle a heftier rent, bring more hands on deck, and set up the new space with top-notch security. We could even put together a cutting-edge command center.”
Something clicks.
In Red Mark’s two years of operation, the bulk of our income still comes from guarding important people. The money has been good, but there are more than two thousand children going missing every day in the country, and my brother had been one of the statistics. If my belief in finding Jack alive proves to be fallacy, then I’ll have to dedicate myself to stopping other kids from suffering the same fate—or my life would be wasted.
“I agree,” I say.
“Really?” My partner obviously expected a few objections from me. He knows I love Townsend, where our current office is—the mountain is our backdrop, and a stone’s throw away is the magnificent Missouri River. But for what we do, Red Mark will have to be accessible—and Helena will be perfect.
I lay it out for Mark, “We’re top-notch at guarding important people or people who simply can pay us. But how about we pivot to the ones who actually need us? Focusing our operations on missing persons, with priority given to children. Honestly, Mark, the look on Ivy’s face when she got Noah back hit me deep.”
Mark reclines, the weight of the thought settling in. “Can’t lie, that hit me hard too.”
We lock eyes, understanding the stakes.
“Let’s do it,” he says, yet there’s a cautious edge to his voice.
“But?”
“As long as you don’t mix business with your personal quest.”
I stroke my jaw, contemplating how the hell I’m going to do that.
He goes on, “We can’t have you going full-on action hero just because you’re chasing a hunch. Sure, we were up against the wall with Noah Forbes, but let’s face it—you were driven by the what-ifs and should-haves for Jack.”
I take a deep breath. I’m not going to deny what he says.
My partner softens his voice. “You are one life, who will save countless others. Just remember that. Sometimes your life is more important than those whom you’re trying to save.”
It will take a lot out of me to digest what he has just said. But the bottom line is, I’m a thirty-four-year-old man, and I’m capable of putting my own struggles aside. Mark and I have an opportunity to put together a lot of broken hearts. We can’t afford not to do it.
“Deal,” I say, giving Mark a firm handshake.
Mark nods, and then looks at his watch. “I’d better get back to Townsend.” He walks toward the counter and takes out his wallet.
“My manager said it’s on the house. You’re veterans. It’s the least we can do.”
“No, we’ll pay.” Mark gives her a hundred-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”
The waitress’ face lights up in a surprise, thanking us for the generous tip.
On the way out, my mind’s back on her, on the bar manager. Not good progress on my part. I’ve got to put a stop to this before it gets too far—especially since we are moving to Helena. I need to be able to accept the fact that I will see her in another man’s arms at some point.
Mark pats my shoulder. “Good night, buddy. Think about her.”
I let my partner have the last laugh and say goodbye. It’s still early in the evening, but I feel that the night is already over. I open my truck door to Maximus. “In!”
The dog jumps in, and then gives me a look.
“Yes, you’ve been good, Maximus.” I pat the top of his head and ruffle his chest coat. Then I whisper, “Tri-pawed.”
Maximus growls, and I greet his comical face with a smile. Hell yeah, my dog is back.
“You think she likes me? She sure likes you.”
This time he barks.
I hook up my phone to the car stereo. “Are you up for some Taylor Swift?”
The mutt stares at me blankly.
Jesus, I’m in deep. Only weeks after I vowed to be married to the job, I’ve failed miserably. Whatever I do from now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to kill my feelings for her. The more I tell myself she’s off-limits, the bigger the swell of my emotions.
There’s one other way?—
I take out the biggest gun in my arsenal: my quest to find Jack .
The reminder snuffs out my yearning, unyielding like a winter frost claiming the last bloom. But if I want to stay the course, there will be no room for her in my life. That angel belongs in heaven, while my hell will wait for no one.