Complicated Creatures: Part Two Read online

  “I don’t want you going after Nazar, Sammy. I want you to wait until I’m better, ’cause I’m going with you,” he insisted stubbornly, though his lids fell a little.

  “The hell you are,” Sam replied. “Think about it, Bear. Nazar knows me now. He knows who I am, where I live, what I do.” She shook her head. “I killed his oldest son. Heir to his kingdom. He won’t rest until he has me—and he’ll take out whoever he needs to get to me. So the best defense has to be offense on this one. You know it and I know it.”

  “Just give me a month—”

  “No, Bear,” Sam interrupted, firm. “I can’t risk you. Besides—I need you to take care of the ranch and our business. I need to you take care of everything if something happens—”

  “Sammy,” he continued arguing. “I promised you I’d never leave you. Don’t make a liar out of me…”

  Sam squeezed his shoulder. “I need you safe, Bear. This isn’t negotiable. Besides, this is a classic divide-and-conquer scenario. My biggest threat is Nazar. Lightner will be waiting for me to take my eye off the business, and he’ll swoop in thinking we’re weak. If you lay low at the ranch and keep everything on track, I can focus on eliminating Nazar once and for all.”

  Carey gazed at her, his brow worried. “This monster you’re determined to vanquish is a chimera, Sammy. You can’t cut the head off one without also having to behead the others.”

  She leaned forward. “Lightner is a slippery, tricky bastard. There’s no way he’s anywhere near Nazar. They won’t be together, and it’d be a fool’s errand to chase after Lightner when Nazar is the one who really wants retribution.”

  “But you can’t turn your back on Lightner.”

  “No, but I don’t have to chase him either,” she pointed out. “I’m going to enlist the help of someone who isn’t tied to me. Someone he won’t see coming.”

  Carey’s brows raised in question.

  “Roxanne de Soto,” Sam explained. “She’s one of the best fixers I know. She’ll figure out where he is and what he’s up to while I take care of Nazar. He won’t be expecting that.”

  Carey reluctantly laid back, his expression contemplative. “I guess if anyone can help you with him, it’s her.”

  “Takes a sidewinder to know one.”

  “Can you trust her?”

  “Yeah,” Sam nodded. “We go back, though few know that.”

  Carey shut his eyes, exhausted. “In case I wasn’t clear before, I don’t want you to do this.”

  “Yeah, I picked up on that,” she smirked. “I wish I didn’t have to do this either, but the past was bound to catch up with me sometime. Guess now’s as good a time as any to settle old scores.”

  There was a knock at Carey’s door. Expecting Marvin, Sam called out, “Come on in.”

  Jack stepped inside, relief on his face at seeing her upright, dressed, and talking to Carey.

  “You two sure know how to give a guy a heart attack,” he told them as he looked them both over.

  “It’s not a party ’til someone gets shot, right?” Carey joked, his smile a little dopey from the drugs.

  Jack leveled him a look, “Too soon.”

  “Hey—I heard you were sleeping,” Sam said as she stood.

  Jack rubbed the back of his neck, expression sheepish. “More like Rush knocked me out and had a nurse give me a sedative.”

  He looked worse for wear, his clothes wrinkled from travel and sleep, his hair tousled in a couple places, heavy stubble lining his jaw. He looked a ridiculous, disheveled mess, but the concern on Jack’s face warmed her, and it was all she could do not to step up and pull him into her arms.

  “You look how I feel, Jack,” Carey drowsed, his eyes drooping.

  “Yeah, well, it’s been a scared-shit-outta-my-mind few days,” Jack replied. “How are you doing, Carey?” he asked, nearing the bed.

  Carey’s grin was lethargic. “I hate getting shot—rather get knifed any day of the week, but the morphine’s good,” he slurred.

  “I can tell,” Jack replied, glancing at Sam. “In what world is getting knifed a preference over getting shot?”

  Sam shook her head, smiling before she leaned over Carey. “Bear, you’re crashing out. I’m gonna go talk to Jack and check in with you in a bit, alright?” She pressed a gentle kiss over his brow, ruffling his hair like she used to when he was little.

  Carey smiled, his eyes closing.

  Sam glanced at Jack, nodding toward the door.

  As they turned to leave, Carey called out softly, “The Chimera has three heads, Sammy.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. “The lion, the goat, and the snake,” she replied. “I remember.”

  “You gotta find the third and kill it too…” he said, trailing off into sleep.

  Jack looked down at her, his pale eyes puzzled and concerned.

  “I need to tell you some things,” she admitted after a deep breath.

  “I’d say so,” he agreed. “Jaime just fell asleep too. Marvin said you’re ready to be discharged, so let’s take a few hours to get checked into the hotel first. I could use a shower and fresh change of clothes.”

  “Alright,” she nodded as he led the way down the hall. “Jack,” she started awkwardly. “I know you’re still angry with me but—”

  “Tesoro,” he interrupted, pulling her into his arms. Jack dropped a kiss onto her hair, sighing as he wondered at how she could feel so perfect in his arms and yet stir such a tumult in his mind and heart. “I’m angry, and admittedly confused as hell, but I’m so goddamn relieved you’re not dead, I feel like my emotions are on spin cycle.” He squeezed her gently, resting his cheek against her head. “Let’s just get the little details sorted out first, then you can tell me why you didn’t trust me enough to tell me what you were doing in Texas and what’s really going on here in Rio.”

  Chapter 7

  December 3rd—Evening

  The Belmond Copacabana Palace Hotel in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

  J A C K

  Jack stood on the terrace of the penthouse suite he and Samantha had occupied for the better part of an hour. He’d gone for a swim in their private pool, hoping to work out his stress-related muscle tension, and he stood now overlooking the ocean, watching the setting sun paint the sky in deeply hued oranges and brilliant streaks of indigo. Copacabana, with stretches of creamy sand and deep turquoise waters, was as beautiful as he’d imagined. But he wasn’t able to enjoy it. Jack thought he might always hate Rio after this ordeal. In his current state of mind, he couldn’t imagine ever wanting to come back.

  Marvin sat at the terrace table, working on his ever-present tablet. “The surgeons will likely clear Jaime for travel within the next two days, since we’ll be bringing a private medical team on the flight back up to the US,” he informed Jack. “We’ve got a Bombardier booked, so if you and Jaime want to join us, it won’t be a problem.”

  “And Samantha?” Jack asked as he leaned against the railing.

  “When we arrive in the US, she’ll go with Carey to Wyatt Ranch,” Marvin explained.

  Jack felt his mouth tighten at the prospect of being separated from her again. He was about to mount an argument when he saw her step through the terrace doors in a thick bathrobe, hair damp from her shower. Her cheeks looked gaunt, her skin uncharacteristically pale, and she had slight bruising under her eyes, but she still looked beautiful to him. Jack struggled to reconcile the myriad of conflicting emotions he had for her, each fixating and revolving around the intense love he felt for this secretive, maddening woman.

  Samantha glanced at Marvin as she strode toward them. “Marv, I’ll need an update from the guys tonight on the NBS crew, now that the riots are dying down. I want a full headcount and a timeline on how much longer the crew will be down here filming.” She glanced at Jack. “And can you order up some food for me and Jack?” she smiled briefly. “Jack’ll need something more substantial than the sawdust he was probably eating at the hospital.”


  “You got it, Boss,” Marvin nodded, getting up from the table. “You want anything in particular?” he asked Jack.

  “Whatever she’s having.”

  “Thanks, Marv,” Samantha told him. “Just have them set it up in the dining room.”

  Marvin left them alone on the terrace.

  Jack felt uncharacteristically unsure of himself. He had so many questions, so many intense and complicated issues to hash out with her, he felt a little overwhelmed with it all. So he began with small talk, leaning against the balcony rail. “How long has Marvin been with you?” he asked.

  “Years,” she replied. “I found him in the mail room at Gage Pearson, the law firm I worked for. He was this wiry high school dropout with quick reflexes and a smart mouth. He had me at ‘make your own damn copies.’” Samantha smiled at the memory, sitting at the table Marvin had just vacated.

  “He didn’t finish high school?” Jack asked, surprised.

  “He actually just graduated cum laude from Loyola,” she replied, pride in her voice. “He went part time the past six years.”

  “Your idea?” Jack guessed, sitting down beside her.

  “I just facilitated,” she shrugged. “Marv did all the heavy lifting.”

  “He’s good,” Jack complimented.

  “He is,” she acceded. “Carey and I would be in the weeds without him.”

  “Everyone you surround yourself is loyal to you in some way,” Jack observed.

  “I’ve got their backs, they’ve got mine,” she shrugged. “I’d say it’s a fair trade.”

  “Many don’t think like that,” Jack pointed out.

  “We’re not the many,” Samantha replied as she looked out at the setting sun, the breeze gently lifting drying tendrils of hair.

  Jack moved toward her, kneeling down onto his haunches as he took her hands.

  “How are your wounds, tesoro?” he asked, glancing at the part in her robe. She hadn’t covered the area with gauze again. He saw two deep indentations the size of quarters, surrounded by dark red welts and deep purple bruises. He winced even as he pushed the robe farther back so he could see the wounds.

  “Hurts like a bitch,” she admitted wryly. “But it’ll be fine in a month or so. No V-necks for a while, I suppose.”

  “Men everywhere will have to console themselves with their private imaginings,” Jack replied in a play for levity, though he hurt just to look at her.

  “And here I thought I was respected for my mind,” she drawled, a little smile pulling at the bow of her lips.

  “Will you tell me what happened?”

  Samantha pulled back, drawing her robe closed. “I have a competitor,” she began, tucking her legs beneath her. “His name is Lucien Lightner. He runs the largest private security business in the world.”

  “He did this to you?” Jack asked, his face reddening.

  “He ordered it.” Samantha nodded. “I’ve recently stolen a few of his assets and clients. I guess you could say he took offense.”

  “Enough to try murdering you and Carey?” Jack asked, incredulous. “Why does that seem like a gross overreaction?”

  She glanced out over the balcony again, her eyes tracing the horizon.

  “My actions merely gave Lightner more incentive,” Samantha admitted. “He’s also representing a man I have a past with.”

  “What kind of past?” Jack asked, tensing with trepidation. As much as he wanted her to confide in him, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know, especially after the conversation with his father.

  Samantha took a deep breath, the weight of her confession already visible. “When I was in the military, I killed this man’s son.”

  Jack stood slowly, moving to the chair beside her while he processed that bit of information.

  “So Lightner was trying to kill you for retribution and Carey got involved?”

  She shook her head slowly. “Lightner kidnapped Carey to draw me out. He threatened me with his life in exchange for mine. When I went to the exchange point, he had his men fire on Carey, then me.”

  Jack’s jaw clenched. “You were going to go to him?” Jack said, incredulous. “You were just going to give yourself to this man, knowing he wanted to harm you?”

  “No,” she denied. “The plan was to get Bear, then have Talon shoot me, making it look like I’d been killed in an exchange gone wrong.”

  Jack was up on his feet before he could stop himself. “Jesus Christ, Samantha!” He shoved shaking hands through his hair as he strode across the terrace in anger. After several seconds of tense silence, he rounded on her, his temper getting the best of him. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  She sat back calmly, her dark eyes fathomless as she stared back at him.

  “I was thinking Lightner was going to kill my best friend and business partner either way, and I had to set it up as a Pyrrhic victory. If he thought I was dead, it’d give me enough time to round up a new plan of action without anyone being the wiser, but when his men shot Carey before we could finalize the exchange and stick to the plan, I acted, Jack,” she explained calmly. “This is what I do. This is what threatening me and people I care about leads to: war.”

  “But did you for one second stop to think of what losing you might do to me, Samantha?” Jack asked, breathing heavily as he gestured at himself. “Did you for one moment consider the implications of your being maimed or killed at this so-called exchange on the people who love you?”

  Samantha stared back, impassive. “I am one-hundred-percent clear on the implications of my actions on my business, my men, and my loved ones. And I recall telling you, very clearly in fact, that I was a tremendous risk for you precisely because I am aware of the ramifications,” she replied. “I told you I wasn’t a safe bet. You jumped in anyway.”

  Jack paced toward her. He dropped both hands on either side of her chair, leaning toward her as she sat still, her gaze unwavering. “If you had been killed—I would never recover from that,” he told her. “I would never be okay had that happened. Did that realization ever cross your mind?”

  “Honestly?” she murmured. “I assumed we were over. You were so upset about Jaime and with me for not being able to open up to you—”

  “And why is that?” Jack stepped back. “Why can’t you open up to me, Samantha? Why do I feel like I have to fight and beg for every tiny bit of trust, for every moment of true intimacy with you?” His increasing anger, Jack launched another verbal barb. “You’ll let me fuck you seven ways to Sunday, but when it comes to your heart, you won’t ever open up for that, will you? You let me inside you just fine, but close to you? No.” He glared. “Never that; right, tesoro?”

  Samantha grimaced, visible emotion dancing across her face for the first time since they’d begun this conversation. “Jack, that isn’t fair—”

  “Is it because of him?” he interrupted. “Is it because of this guy, Wes Elliott?” he asked, his heart constricting. “Is he the guy you’re in love with? The one you never got over?”

  Please say no. Please don’t say it’s him…

  Samantha stiffened, her eyes widening fractionally before she could hide it.

  Jack stepped back, reeling.

  “How do you know about Wes?”

  “I overheard him talking about you with Rush when I arrived,” Jack confessed gruffly, shoving his hands through his hair as he moved back toward the balcony. “I remembered what you said at Bavette’s that night. Put two and two together. It wasn’t exactly difficult.” He stared blindly out over the city lights that dotted the skyline as he pressed his hands along the marble edge. “Who is he to you?”

  “He’s no one,” she replied quickly. “Just the past.”

  Jack squeezed the railing. “But you love him,” he stated, closing his eyes. “He’s just one more thing you don’t want to talk about. Another closed door you won’t open for me.”

  “Jack,” Samantha sighed. “I’m not playing what’s tantamount to emotional Russian roulette w
ith you right now.”

  “Then why don’t you just stop spinning the chamber, Samantha?” he replied, turning to look at her. “Just start answering my questions for once. Just start telling me who you are, without me constantly having to drag it out of you—”

  “You don’t want the answers to those questions any more than I want to give them to you, Jack,” she answered.

  “That’s for me to decide.”

  “No, darlin’,” Samantha replied. “In this case, it’s not for you to decide. My business, my decisions, my past—these things are all my own. You don’t like the doors? Stop knocking on them.”

  Jack reeled back like he’d just been slapped. The resolute look, the tone that brooked no argument—He’d been shut down yet again. If there was one thing he could count on with Samantha, it was that. In a brief attempt at introspection, Jack attempted to process how much had happened in the last handful of days that had irrevocably changed his life. Hurt and confusion, meshed together with the dark and powerful anger that had been building for days, rose up in him, gnashing against the inviolate confidence he’d always had in himself. Jack realized in that very moment, he would never mean as much to Samantha as she meant to him. Something would always come between them. And whether it was her past with Wes or her inability to open up to him now—coupled with the dangerous and potentially lethal connotations of her profession—Jack would forever be sidelined. He would never have her. Not completely. Not the way she had him. And he would always love her more than she loved him. He didn’t think he could handle living constantly with that disparity.

  He turned his back to her, looking out over Copacabana without really seeing the vista. Jack heard her stand and move toward him, felt her gentle hand run down his back, a whisper of a touch.

  “I know this isn’t when you want to hear this, and I’m well aware I’m a day late and a dollar short here, but for what it’s worth, I do love you,” she told him, her emotion audible as she rested her forehead against the indent of his spine.