me like a little girl.
I enfolded her with mine and pulled her into my chest. “Shh,
She broke into fresh sobs in my arms. I stroked her hair while she cried it out. After a time, she calmed. “Do you want some water?”
She nodded silently.
I filled a glass in her kitchen and led her to the couch. “Sit down,
She swallowed some water. I noticed the remains of a burrito on her coffee table. It reminded me I was hungry. I might have to eat it later.
“My mom is evil, Christos,” she cried, hitching tears. “She, she said you’re going to, to, to
“That’s craziness, Samantha,” I chuckled.
“Don’t laugh,” she pleaded.
“Sorry. It’s just, hearing you say that doesn’t make any sense to me because I’m not going anywhere, no matter what your mom says.”
She looked at me with naked fear in her eyes. “I hope so, because I feel like my parents are abandoning me. Without you, I’d feel like I have no one. I couldn’t bear to lose you, Christos. Not even for a second.”
Hearing her words tightened my heart. I hoped to fuck I didn’t turn out to be a liar the day after my trial was over. No matter how badly I wanted to keep my promise to her, I might not be able to.
I spent the night with Samantha in her bed. She curled against me like a frightened child. Did she somehow sense that no matter how strong my arms were, they might not be able to protect her from my past?
Luckily, she went quickly to sleep. She must’ve been exhausted.
I tried to block out my own chaotic thoughts, and get some sleep too. But the reality of my shitstorm life kept battering me awake.
In the morning, I was drained.
Chapter 24
CHRISTOS
Samantha slept hard.
I didn’t.
I was jittery all night, kept waking up, and tossed until 8:00 a.m. when I checked my phone. I had a message. A very important one. I couldn’t take the call here.
Russell Merriweather.
He only called when things got worse. It wasn’t like he was going to tell me the District Attorney had decided to give up. Those guys were pit bulls and had their jaws clamped around me good.
I was antsy to hear his message. I treated bad news like Band-Aids. Better to get it over with quick.
But I wasn’t going to make Samantha wake to an empty bed. So I paced the apartment. Sat on the couch for awhile. Pulled the remainder of her burrito out of the fridge where I’d stashed it last night. Downed it in two bites. Drank some water. Twiddled my thumbs.
Fucking-A, this was driving me nuts.
What did Russell need to tell me?
When Sam finally awoke, I was sitting on the edge of her bed, fully dressed. “Sam, I need to go.” I felt like an asshole saying it. She needed me. It was obvious. But I needed to check my message.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“It’s…” I didn’t want to tell her. “I’ve just got some stuff to do. At the studio,” I lied.
Her eyes searched mine. “What is it, Christos? You can tell me.”
No, I couldn’t. Then everything would shatter around both of us. “It’s nothing,
“Do you want breakfast?” she offered.
“No, I’m cool. I really need to jet.”
“Please stay.”
The look in her eyes tore me apart. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to tell her nothing, hoping my problems would go away. She didn’t need to be worrying about this.
“Please, Christos,” she begged.
“I have to go,
“Okay,” she nodded reluctantly.
I felt like shit when I walked out her front door.
I climbed in my Camaro and drove east toward the Five. I stopped at a gas station before getting on the freeway and checked my message from Russell.
I cruised onto the freeway and lurched through traffic. I had plenty of time to sweat bullets in my car while I thought about whatever plea bargain was on the table.
My guts were churning by the time I reached downtown. Too bad traffic was so heavy. If the road had been empty, I would’ve floored it all the way there.
After I passed SDU, I noticed the same landmarks that had taunted me back on the day the cops had driven me to jail, the day I’d met Sam in September. The surfer mural in Pacific Beach. The humpback whale mural in Mission Bay. At least this time I wasn’t caged in a squad car. Just caged in traffic.
I considered sliding my Camaro onto the empty shoulder and flooring it. But it was broad daylight.
And I was out on bail for aggravated assault and battery.
Fuck it. I was tired of rolling through traffic like an old man. I dropped the Camaro into second and revved the engine. It rumbled reassuringly, ready to tear up the road as I diagonaled across lanes toward the shoulder on the right.
Samantha’s eyes filled my mind. The sad eyes she’d given me when I’d left her apartment a half hour ago.
Fuck.
I couldn’t afford to be stupid. Not like when I was younger and didn’t give a shit. I had something to live for now, some
Samantha.
I huffed out a breath and slid the shifter back into third. My Camaro remained in the slow lane as I continued to cruise along at the same sluggish pace everyone else was going.
Traffic turtled along all the way downtown. I pulled off on Front Street and headed toward Russell’s offices.
I parked in the underground garage and marched up the stairs like I was going to a hanging. Every step got taller as my boots got heavier. I felt like I was going to collapse by the time I reached the 20th.
I walked through the double doors into Russell’s offices.
“Good Morning, Christos,” Rhonda said. “I’ll let Russell know you’re here. He should be out in a minute.”
“Thanks, Rhonda.” I walked over to the picture window and stared out at the San Diego bay once again. It was shrouded in fog. Appropriately moody.
“Christos,” Russell said as he walked into the lobby. He wasn’t his usual jovial self. “Come on back to my office, son.”
Man, had somebody died? Or was everyone mourning my impending funeral?
I walked into Russell’s office and dropped into the chair. He closed the door behind us and sat down.
“How have you been holding up, son?” Russell asked compassionately.
