Chapter Twelve
“P roud of you, Starburst,” Julian said as they drove down the dark street. Her head was tilted back, and some of the tension she seemed to carry had ebbed.
“For what?” Her nose wrinkled. She had no clue how endearing he found her expressions. No clue that his feelings for her were already sprouting beneath his skin, and deep-seated roots were crumbling through the pain and distrust that fortified his heart. No clue she was healing the lesions that formed and swelled from his mother’s careless abandonment. His grandmother’s depreciating fabrications. “For being so goddamn brave. Telling the guys your story after Jacob went to bed took guts. Something you have in spades but don’t seem to realize.”
She said nothing for one heartbeat, then two. He hadn’t been trying to upset her by saying she wasn’t aware of her worth. Eventually, though, she’d understand, because as she was unknowingly binding his emotional wounds one by one, he’d be doing the same until there was no question of her worth.
“Because of you, I’m starting to,” she said, voice quiet. “You’ve opened my eyes to a few things about myself. Before I met you, part of me hated who I was. How could I not, with my father in jail for taking innocent lives? I think about them—the victims. Their families. That’s one of the reasons I hate my birthday. Hate him. That’s the night he came home, and I called the cops. And to this day, I’m disgusted by myself. How could I still wish for a father’s love, and feel robbed of that time, when spouses are missing their partners? Children wish their parent was still alive for their important milestones. I think that’s why I’ve dedicated my life to helping others, not only because I like to comfort them but also to prove I am not the monster he is. I am proud of what I do and don’t struggle with the worthlessness of being regular old Sam Campbell when working with patients. Daughter of Rick Campbell, traitor and homegrown terrorist.”
“There is not a goddamn thing worthless about you.” He bit out the words, struggling to hold on to the rage welling up inside him. Rick Campbell had not only broken up dozens of military families by deliberately passing on information that was ultimately signing their death certificates, but he’d also broken the most precious gift he’d ever received—his daughter. A woman who, even shattered, was able to hold those broken pieces together, letting her light pour through the cracks, spilling her goodness to others.
“I’m starting to understand that some of the things that happened in my past—my mother’s neglect, the embarrassment that boy made me feel in high school—are not a reflection of who I am. That’s just what I lived, and that’s on them. You helped me see that.”
“What happened in high school?” Cold trickled through his chest and into his blood, tightening his sternum and chilling him from the inside out. The possibilities of what she was about to tell him made his muscles twitch, and he tightened his grip on the wheel.
She pressed the heels of her hands against her cheeks and blew out a quick breath. “There was this boy, Connor Spitz. He started being nice to me, which should’ve been my first warning sign. He wasn’t super popular or a jock, but he was well-liked. I should’ve seen his desire to be part of that crowd. Anyway, I ate it up when he started asking me to sit with his friends at lunch and walk me home after school.” She drew her arms and legs closer to her body, physically trying to mask her pain. “I was a pariah at school after my dad’s arrest. No parent wanted their kid to be friends with the terrorist and military murderer’s daughter. Even the teachers treated me differently. I ate lunch alone. Walked home from school alone. I sat in the back of the class, hoping I would disappear. Any interactions I had with others chipped away at my self-esteem. They were cruel and violent. But Connor continued to be kind to me. I soaked up that kindness, blind to what he was doing. I worried about his reputation. It seemed like everyone was always watching us. I thought they had been judging him for spending time with me, when really, they were watching a virtual reality show playing out before their eyes.”
He reached across the truck’s cab and squeezed her hand, giving her silent support, even as his gut churned. He wanted to tell her to stop, that whatever had happened was not her fault. If he interrupted her, though, he wasn’t sure she’d ever want to tell him. “When he asked me to prom, I was over the moon. I didn’t have anything to wear, so I did chores for one of my neighbors until I had enough to get a thrift store dress. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I was proud of it. Excited to do something a normal teenager would do. There was also this overwhelming sense of hope that things would begin to get better. Connor, his friends, and their dates picked me up for the dance in a limo. They were so nice. I went to an after-party with Connor. I thought I was in love with him, but now I realize that feeling was gratitude.
“I slept with him, and it was nothing like I expected. Painful. Cold. I was confused and chalked it up to my first time. After that, he dropped me off at home. I didn’t hear from him all weekend and then Monday morning, I found out why. Someone had compiled video clips that I didn’t know were being taken. The first time he approached me, the surprise on my face when he asked me to sit with him at lunch. Me at the thrift store buying my dress. Us dancing at prom. Me and Connor coming out of the room at the party after we had sex. I had exited first, and Connor was giving one of his friends a thumbs-up from behind. The video circulated around the school. I could hear kids listening to it over and over during classes, snickering. I felt worthless and broken. Violated emotionally and physically. That’s when I started hating myself.”
*
“Fuck, Sam. Fuck,” he shouted, gripping the steering wheel so hard with his free hand that either his bones or the wheel would crack if something didn’t give. He wanted to gut the kids who’d been so heartless. How could they be so cruel? Her experience went beyond bullying, from being recorded without her knowledge and stalked to engaging in a physical act under false pretenses. If she’d had a support system at home, maybe they would’ve encouraged her to file a police report and bring charges against the perpetrators. Now it made sense why her insecurities disappeared when she was on stage, lost in her music. A place where the pain didn’t touch her.
“I’m trying to find the right words.” He wasn’t embarrassed when his voice quivered. Caring about Sam made it impossible not to feel her words and pain along with her. “And all I really want to do is punch a hole through the windshield, track down that loser fuck Connor and everyone else in that school who made you hurt.” He planned to pinpoint Connor and tell him how badly he’d fucked up. To ensure he knew Sam had the protection and love of an entire SEAL team and never to contact her under any circumstance. Sam would never know he had done it, but it would give him a little peace of mind that there wasn’t someone lurking around, waiting to mess with her.
“Sam, what they did goes beyond deplorable and grotesque. The fact that you’re sitting beside me today, that you’ve dedicated your life to helping children, especially when so many of your peers turned their backs on you, and made your life a living hell, is another thing that speaks to the goodness in your soul. The compassion there.”
“That’s another reason I left your apartment. I didn’t want to wake up and see disappointment or regret in your eyes. The memory of being with you was going to be the best I’d ever had. I never felt more cherished and cared for than when I was in your arms.”
“You wouldn’t have seen any of those things reflected in my eyes, just wonder. What we shared was never just about sex but connecting on an elemental level. Something changed in me that night. The first moment I met you, I felt something click into place. I wanted to ignore it, but damned if I could.” At the end of the street, he pulled into her driveway and switched off the engine. His fingers connected with the latch of her seat belt, and he hauled her onto his lap. His heart thrashed, and the weight of her in his lap flooded him with warmth.
“Julian.” His name tumbled from her lips. “Is the bedroom still off-limits?”
“Nothing is off-limits. Not for you, Sam.”
The stroke of her small but powerful hands skimming up his chest, winding around his neck, was all the encouragement he needed. He cupped her ass and dragged her flush against him. Once she was melded against his erection, he buried his hands in her hair. “So fucking beautiful,” he said before crashing his mouth down on hers, tongues gliding together, quickening, pushing to get a closer angle. Sam nipped his bottom lip, and a groan rumbled through him. He caressed her soft curves, hands running over the rough fabric of her jeans and then the soft cotton of her shirt. When he cupped her breasts, she arched against him, hard nipples shoving into his palms.
A fever was already burning through his veins before she rocked against him. She did it again. The bite of her nails at the base of his scalp made his lungs seize. They were fully clothed, but having her grind against him as they kissed might just be the most erotic sensation he’d ever experienced. Especially because he knew just how wet she’d be when he was ready to strip her out of those clothes. His cock was throbbing, on edge with each downward movement of Sam’s body. There was a good chance he was going to embarrass himself and come before they got their clothes off. Sam broke off from the kiss, breaths coming in quick pants. She was quivering all over. Fuck, she was so responsive. He’d barely touched her, and she was almost over the edge.
He gripped her hips hard, helping her increase the friction where she needed it most. When he grazed his teeth over the pulse hammering at the base of her neck, she gasped, spiraling into pleasure, his name a breathless shudder on her lips. He brought his hands up to her face, palms framing her cheeks, and lowered his lips. He pressed kisses on her brows, eyelids, and nose, then rested his forehead against hers. When she didn’t say anything for a long time, he straightened. “You okay?”
“Only mildly mortified that I basically dry-humped you—actually, that’s exactly what I did—in your truck in the middle of my driveway.”
“And since I was an active participant, I can tell you there is not a single thing to be embarrassed about because it was hot as fuck. I can’t wait to get you in the house, strip you down, and taste how wet you still are.”
Sam made a little sound in the back of her throat. She liked that idea. There was no way he wouldn’t have a zipper indent running down the length of his—“Sam?” All thoughts of getting her inside, into bed, vanished. “Is it possible you left your front door open?”
“What?” Her body stiffened. “Why would you ask me that? Of course I wouldn’t forget to close and lock my door.”
“It’s ajar. I can see the hallway light shining through the opening.” Scared the shit out of him that he hadn’t noticed it before she’d straddled his lap. That rookie mistake could’ve cost them dearly. What if whoever had broken into her house lurked around the shadows armed and snuck up on them kissing in the truck? Fuck.
Sam scrambled off of his lap. “Angel,” she screeched and wrenched open the passenger-side door. He wrapped his hand around her upper arm, halting her forward progress.
“No way in hell you’re going to run in there. Let me call this in, and I’ll do a walk-through and get Angel.”
“If you think I’m going to sit in this truck while you put your ass on the line, you’re sorely mistaken.” She narrowed her eyes. It was a damn shame there wasn’t time to admire how sexy she looked all riled up. Instead of calling the police first, he called his team. Ransom would notify the others and meet him at Sam’s address.
“Does your mother have a key?” He wouldn’t put it past the woman to stumble over to her daughter’s house unannounced and wait inside even if she wasn’t home.
“No, she doesn’t. And I don’t leave a spare tucked under the mat or under a rock or anything.”
That was both good and bad. If her mother had broken the terms of the restraining order, she’d be arrested and no longer a threat to Sam. Someone else inside the house meant the possibility of a new threat against her. One that still might have something to do with her mother. The woman could have a friend working with her to hurt Sam, or could’ve told the people looking for repayment on the money she borrowed that this was really her home. He called nine-one-one and informed them of a possible break-in, mentioning the restraining order on Sam’s mom. She could very well be the person inside the house. He hung up before the operator could protest and insist he stay on the line. He wanted to enter, and Sam already had one foot out the truck’s door.
“Listen. Whoever broke into your house could still be in there—”
“With Angel! She’s been through enough. What if she’s hurt?”
This woman who thought herself unworthy of love seemed to have an endless capacity to provide love to others. Her fierce loyalty and her first thought for the three-legged creature, not her home, possessions, or personal safety, added another layer of trust in the woman. Angel’s wellness was one of the reasons he wanted her to stay in the truck. Some things you couldn’t unsee, and if someone wanted to hurt Sam, going after the dog would be a way to scar her. At the same time, he didn’t want her sitting in his truck in a dark driveway. He’d make sure she was behind him and protect her. Even with his life.