Chapter Seven Dance in My Darkness ~September~ #3
I wait, glancing at the clock, and when five minutes have passed and her tears have ceased, I reach my breaking point. I squeeze Jace’s hand and give him a nod and a quick smile. “Jace, I’m willing to talk with you whenever you want. Call me, come over. Whenever.”
More tears slip down his pain-ridden face as he looks at me with regret. “I’d like that. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I turn my focus to my mother for a moment before looking to Dr. Weston. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. If my mother truly wants to make amends, then I’ll come back, but until then, I’m done.”
With a succinct nod, he replies, “I understand. I appreciate you trying.” He shakes my hand as I stand to leave. “I’ll be in touch,” he says before turning his focus to my mom.
Jace and I hug, and then I slip out the door. I don’t know if he’ll stay. Perhaps she’ll talk to him. At the moment, though, I’m finding it difficult to even care.
Tears block my vision, making it nearly impossible to find my way. I manage to exit the building, only progressing a few steps before I hear him.
“Sweetness.”
“Oh, God, Joseph.” I all but crumble to the ground. Joseph’s quick reaction saves me as he sweeps me into his arms.
“I got you.” He holds me tightly, one arm below my legs and the other around my back, anchoring me to his chest.
I hold on to him for dear life, giving in to the grief, and let go.
His lips press to my head as he whispers, “Christ, baby. I got you. Shh, I got you.”
Joseph
I don’t know what the hell happened in there, but I’m angry as fuck to see Samantha hurting so deeply.
I cut my meetings short, leaving my team in Vegas to do what they’ve been trained to do: seek, find, acquire.
I’ve never been so thankful that I listened to my gut and came home to meet her at the care facility where her mom has been staying.
Once we’re sitting in the back of the SUV with Victor at the helm and Michael in tow, driving her car, we head home. I hold her for the entire ride with no desire to ever let her go. Her crying has stopped, and I can feel her drifting off to sleep.
The forty-five minute drive feels like a lifetime. I don’t try to wake her once we pull into the garage. Victor grabs her purse that I leave on the seat as I slip out with her cradled in my arms.
Michael parks in her space and grabs her belongings from the car. I stop cold when I see a box tucked under his arm.
“What the fuck is that?” I whisper with clenched teeth, determined not to wake Samantha.
“It was on the hood of her car,” Michael replies with concern written all over his face.
I tremble with rage at the idea of her being alone, coming out in the condition she was in, and finding that box sitting on her car. A person can only take so much. I’m worried she’s reaching her tipping point, and this box might put her over.
“Fuck,” is all I can manage.
With a knowing look to Michael, Victor hands over Samantha’s purse and leaves us to head up to our penthouse. I have no doubt Victor is heading to Fin’s for a tumbler or two of Fin’s cherished 1939 Macallan.
I manage to settle my girl on our bed without waking her. I turn on a lamp in the sitting area of our suite, in case she wakes up and is confused about where she is. Shutting the door behind me, I head back to Michael, whom I know is waiting.
I find him in the kitchen, eyeing the package and drinking a beer. Without even looking, he hands me an opened bottle of Heineken. He pulls a knife out of his front pocket.
“We can’t open it.” I move toward him, placing my hand over his.
He scowls. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not addressed to you or me,” I state the obvious. “But also because she needs to trust us not to hide anything from her.” I take a long pull on my beer.
He sets his knife down and leans back against the counter. “What if it’s a bomb?”
I grimace at the thought. “Do you think it’s a bomb?”
“No.” He drinks his beer, his eyes studying me. “She needs 24/7 protection.” He points his bottle at the box. “Whoever delivered that followed her tonight, left it, and I imagine they stuck around to be sure she found it.”
“Shit.”
“It’s escalating. The first two came to the office, but this one was delivered personally.”
“You know about the box?”
We both whip around to see Samantha standing in the living room.
“Wait? ‘First two’? That sounds like there’s been more than two.” She moves closer and stops, waiting for a reply.
I close the distance between us. “There was a box on the hood of your car tonight. That makes three.”
“What?” She steps back, fear written all over her face. “No, that can’t be.” Her head shakes. “No.”
“Baby.” I pull her into my arms, hold her tightly, and kiss her temple over and over again. She’s shaking. “It’ll be okay, Samantha. I’ve got you. Michael’s got you. We won’t let anything happen to you.”
Calmer, she looks up. “So, you know about the first box, the second delivery?” Her eyes bounce between Michael and me.
I cup her cheek. “I knew something was wrong. You’ve been off for days. Michael checked the security footage and saw Teddy hand you a box.”
“Oh.” She steps out of my arms. “That makes sense.” She turns and walks down the hall toward our bedroom.
I glance at Michael, who simply raises his eyebrow at me, but remains silent.
Samantha comes back a moment later, stopping in the living room with an identically sized box in her hands. “I didn’t want to tell you about this over the phone. I didn’t want to ruin your trip. That conference only comes once a year, and I know you had big plans for it.”
“I understand that, but you should have gone to Michael. That’s why I left him here, to be sure you remained safe and had someone to rely on if you needed it.”
“We agreed I’d tell you first.” She glances at Michael, who’s still in the kitchen watching us, before meeting my eyes. “You didn’t like it when I went to him first about the office betting pool.”
I grip the back of my neck and squeeze. “You’re right. I’m sorry. From now on, if you can’t tell me, you tell Michael. What matters is not who hears it first, but that you tell someone and don’t have to deal with this on your own.”
“Okay.” She glances between me and Michael. “Where’s the other box?”
She’s calm, no longer upset. Is it because she’s truly okay, or is she only worn out from earlier? I point to Michael. “It’s in the kitchen.”
With a nod, she gives me the box in her hands. “I guess you’d better open this first.”
I take the box from her, grab her hand, and join Michael in the kitchen.
“Before you open it,” she says. “I want you to know that even though I’m confused on how the item in that box could be there, I don’t believe what the letter says.”
Fuck. What the hell could be in this box? “Okay.” I kiss her forehead. It’s good to know her faith in me hasn’t been broken.
I start to open the box, but freeze when Michael hollers, “Stop.” He looks around the kitchen.
“Let’s be smart about this. Sam’s fingerprints are already on the box and its contents, right?
” He looks to Sam, who confirms it with a single nod.
Michael finds what he’s looking for and pulls out box of Ziploc baggies.
“Put this on your hand before you touch anything on the inside.”
With the box on the counter and my right hand in a large baggie, I awkwardly open the box, revealing my blue tie. “Hey, I’ve been looking for this.”
“You have?” Samantha’s worried eyes meet mine.
“Yeah, I haven’t seen it in weeks. I can’t even remember the last time I wore it.”
“You’re sure it’s yours?” Michael chimes in.
“It has his initials on the back,” Samantha says. “And his is missing from the closet. I checked.”
I turn it over, and sure enough, JPM is stitched into the back, like all of my custom ties. “Yep, it’s mine.” I drop it and look at Samantha, her blue eyes locking on me. “I bought it because it matches your eyes. I only have one this color, like I only have one of you.”
A single tear drops down her cheek. “Joseph.” She snuggles into my side.
“Only one of you, Sweetness.”
Michael clears his throat. “That’s really touching and all, but could we move this along? I’d really like to get this other box opened sometime this century.”
He’s right. “I’m sorry your tie got tainted by all of this,” I say to Samantha as I reach in to pull out the note. Her response is lost on me as I fume at the words on the page. “What the fuck?”
“It’s worse than the first one, huh?” Samantha says.
I read it again before showing it to Michael. As he reads it, I finger her chin, guiding her face to mine. “It’s total bullshit. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
“There’s nobody but you.”
“I know.”
“There sure as fuck wasn’t anybody with me in Vegas.”
She places her hand on my chest, soothing the beast in me. “I know.”
“You know?” I need her reassurance.
Her smile is unexpected but wholeheartedly welcomed. “I know, Joseph.” She pats my chest. “I trust you. I believe you. I don’t know how she got your tie, but I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. We just haven’t thought of it yet.”
“God, I love you.” I hold her against my chest, ignoring Michael’s eye roll. “Are you okay if Michael opens the other box?” I ask Samantha.
She waves her hand. “Please, have at it.”
We exchange a quick look in agreement, then watch as he slowly opens it. Michael dons two baggies, one on each hand, and lifts out a pair of black Mack Weldon boxer briefs.
I recognize them instantly as the brand I exclusively wear. I grip the counter. What the hell is going on?
Samantha gasps.
Michael scrutinizes me. “I take it you recognize these?”
“I recognize the brand and style, but I have no reason to believe they’re actually mine.” I point to the crusty-looking white stuff along the front. “What the hell is that?”
“Oh my god!” Samantha exclaims.
Michael turns them around so he can see, then looks back to me like I’m an idiot. “Really?”
Realization dawns. “Even if those are my underwear and even if that cum is mine, there is no way that proves anything other than someone managed to get a pair of my dirty underwear.” I point to the other box.
“And my favorite tie. Whoever the fuck this is has proven themselves to be quite resourceful, but none of this proves I know them or have ever had sex with them.”
Michael agrees. “It’s cir-cum-stancial at best.”
“Seriously? Tell me you did not make a cum joke at a time like this?” I suppress a smile, nearly giving in to it.
“Hey, if not now, when?” Michael retorts.
“Grow up, you two,” Samantha barks. “It’s entirely too soon for cum jokes.”
I groan at my stupidity. “You’re right.” I motion back to the box. “What’s the note say?”
Michael places the underwear back in the box and carefully slips the piece of paper out from under it, holding the note so we can all read it.
This is proof of what I do to him.
He comes for me like he’ll never come for you, Sweetness.
Sincerely,
The ONE Joseph calls “Baby”
I catch her right before she goes down. “Samantha!”