Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
This is the most awkward flight in the history of planes being in the sky. I’m sitting across from Sammie’s mother and his uncle. Sammie keeps touching me. Small touches. Brushing his fingertips down my arms. Moving my hair off my shoulder. Or holding my hand in his.
“You look stressed. Need another orgasm to relax your mind?” he whispers into my ear.
My eyes widen, and I look across from us to see if his mother or uncle heard what he said. They’re not paying us any attention—thank god. “You cannot say things like that to me in front of your mother, Sammie.”
“I agree with Poppy, Sammie J. You shouldn’t say shit like that in front of your mother,” Mrs. Russo chimes in, and my face heats in embarrassment. “There are some things a mother does not need to know.”
“Oh my god.” I sink farther into the seat in a lame attempt to get away from this situation.
“Don’t listen to her. When I was fifteen, she sat me down and told me all about the importance of a woman’s pleasure, and if I was going to engage in sexual activity, I better make sure whoever I’m with enjoys it,” Sammie says, while pointing at his mother.
I feel like I should thank her, because Sammie obviously took that discussion seriously.
“I wasn’t wrong.” Mrs. Russo shrugs.
“My mother told me to sample as many meals as I could before I settled on a favorite,” Alfie adds.
“That’s because you have shit taste buds,” his father grumbles.
“There is nothing wrong with the women I date,” Alfie argues.
“I’ve got Imogen’s doctor meeting us tomorrow. You need to have some tests done,” Mrs. Russo changes the subject.
“Okay. When does she start the treatment?” Sammie asks.
“Next week. She starts conditioning. That will take ten days. And then, if everything goes well, they can do the transplant,” Mrs. Russo explains.
A stewardess approaches with a tray of drinks. When she hands a crystal tumbler filled with amber liquid to Sammie, I snatch it out of his hands.
“You can’t drink that,” I tell him, downing what I now know is whiskey.
“If you want a whiskey, you can just ask, Poppy,” Sammie says to me before turning to the stewardess. “Can I get another?”
“No.” I shake my head at him. “You can’t be drinking alcohol.
Your body needs to be in the best condition it possibly can be.
So, no alcohol. I’ve also been looking up what kind of diet you should be on.
I can go to the store when we get to Kestral Valley and make sure you have all the right foods.
” I spent the entire drive to the airport looking up bone marrow donation.
The cabin goes quiet and everyone is staring at me.
“What?” I ask, looking around.
“If he doesn’t marry you, I’ll adopt another son who will,” Mrs. Russo says.
“Mom, seriously?” Sammie grunts.
“What? I like her. I want her as a daughter-in-law. Make it happen, or I will.”
Sammie looks at me. “Ignore her.”
I smile, turning in my seat to face him. “Why? You don’t want to marry me, Sammie? And here I was, planning our big day. I was going to wear a big white dress. We’d get married on the ranch, on horses.”
“I’m not getting on a fucking horse,” Sammie grunts. “And we’re not getting married at a place that makes you sad.”
I blink at him. “I was joking. We’re not getting married at all. I’m not the marrying type.” I want to ask him what he means by the ranch makes me sad. It’s not a conversation I want to have in front of an audience, though.
“Okay, if not him, what’s the criteria for a husband?” Mrs. Russo asks me.
“Unfortunately, she’s not joking.” Louie sighs. “She really will find some poor guy and adopt him to make you her daughter-in-law.”
“That’s… crazy,” I say. “But also, kind of flattering. Thank you.” I want Sammie’s mother to like me.
“Okay, I’ve been looking into your mother’s old partner.” Mrs. Russo drops the folder she’s been reading through back into the bag at her feet.
“Cane Searlait.” I sigh. He’s still an active sheriff. “You all really believe my mother wasn’t killed by the cartel?”
“I know she wasn’t,” Mrs. Russo tells me.
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve worked for Emmanuel for a long time, and he doesn’t lie. Besides, he’s never had a setup in Kestral Valley,” she says.
“There’s also the fact that his organization doesn’t deal in small quantities that would be workable out of a house. They have warehouses, farms, not small cottages,” Louie adds.
I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. Leaning my head back against the seat, I close my eyes and count to ten. I don’t like thinking about my parents. It’s hard.
Someone unbuckles my belt. My eyes open to find Sammie standing in front of me.
“Come with me,” he says, pulling me to my feet.
He leads me to the back of the plane and then opens a door to a bedroom. “You have a bed on this plane?” I ask.
“Mhmm.” Sammie closes the door behind us. “It’s also soundproof in here.”
“I’m not having sex when your mother is right on the other side of the door, Sammie,” I grumble.
“Fine. We won’t have sex. But you’re tired. Lie down for a bit. I can wake you up before we land.”
“I’m not tired,” I insist.
“Why are you sad?” Guiding me over to the bed, he sits down and then pulls me on top of him.
“Why am I sad?” I repeat and shake my head. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” Sammie’s hands cup my cheeks. He forces our gazes to lock. “I can’t fix whatever it is if you don’t tell me.”
“You can’t fix this anyway, Sammie. You can’t bring my parents back to life.
You can’t put me in a time machine and take me back to when I was sixteen and lost both of my parents in the same week.
” I climb off his lap and stand. “There’s a reason I don’t talk about them, because I do my best to not think about them.
It only brings up horrible memories. It’s why I hate driving into the ranch.
It’s why I’ve hated living in that town forever, because they’re everywhere. ”
“Are all of your memories with your parents horrible? Did they mistreat you?” He tilts his neck to the side and looks at me.
“What? No, they were great parents.”
“Then why don’t you focus on the happy memories?” he asks.
“Because when I do that, I remember that I’m never going to have any new memories with them, and then I remember why.”
Sammie looks at me without saying anything for what seems like forever before he stands.
“What do you want me to do? I can work on your mother’s case without bringing it up to you until I’ve finished and have the proof that you need.
Or I can keep you in the loop during the entire process. It’s up to you.”
Do I want to know?
“What exactly are you going to do? To find this so-called proof, Sammie?”
“Whatever it takes.”
“You do know that he’s still a sheriff, the man you intend to question.”
“I’m aware,” Sammie says. “Nothing is going to stop me from getting the truth for you.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to trust me. I don’t want you thinking that my family is responsible for what happened.”
“I don’t need to know the details,” I tell him. “I don’t need you to tiptoe around me either.”
“Okay. I will keep the details sparse and make sure those idiots out there don’t say shit that upsets you.”
“Oh god, don’t tell them to not say stuff around me, Sammie. I don’t need them to think I’m some fragile little flower.”
Sammie laughs. “No one is going to mistake you for a fragile flower, Poppy. You’re tough. You have faced adversities at a young age other people would have crumbled from. You didn’t. You are amazing.”
“You have a biased opinion because you like my vagina.” I smile.
“It is a really nice vagina. Want to show me it now? Maybe give me a taste?” He smirks.