Protective Instincts (27 page)

"I'll go with you." Brit rose. "I'm done here." What more could she offer for Sam's life?

* * * *

At six AM, shades of pink morning light filtered through her windows to tint her walls. Brit sat at her kitchen table, sipping coffee. She'd showered to wash away the strain of the night, to remove the scent of blood … Sam's blood. After hours of tossing and turning in bed, moving from one nightmare to another, she had given up. She had never seen so much blood.

Images of Sam falling haunted her sleep, waking her to the horror that he could have died without letting her say goodbye.

After Tommy's death, she had believed she'd never love again. Did she even deserve to? If she hadn't sent Tommy out to work distracted, would he have seen Douglas Drake's truck and avoided being hit? If she'd stayed with Sam's parents, like he'd told her to, would he have been stabbed?

She didn't like being told what to do. Sam was an in-charge kind of man. They'd lock horns all the time. Their being together wouldn't work. The lovemaking was beyond wonderful, but it couldn't always make up for their differences.

Sam deserved to build a life with a woman who could make him happy, one who could give him children. He was so good with them. She and Sam had done nothing to prevent pregnancy, but she knew there would be no child from their lovemaking.

After the operation, the surgeon had given orders that each family member and Brit could see him, in pairs, for two minutes. Drew went in with her. He seemed as teary as she felt. She'd never seen Sam look so pale, even against the stark white of his bandages.

"Good job, old buddy," Drew's voice shook the tiniest bit. Sam's eyes stayed shut, as they had expected. "We got the bastard. Now we can all get on with our lives. I'll call Sean and Adrienne before any news reports can mention the killing. Reporters are waiting downstairs for details. Here's Brit."

She'd held Sam's hand and he'd gripped it, even in his sleep. She'd kissed his lips. She was certain he'd kissed her back. "I love you," she whispered.

Detective Briggs had smuggled her out a back door to avoid the reporters and taken her home in a squad car. He had been so kind, after he'd read her the riot act for putting herself in danger. He hadn't mentioned Sam's danger.

He'd seen her inside, checking her house, in case Drake's employers had sent someone to do his job. "You still need to be careful."

He'd blushed when she'd hugged him before he left.

* * * *

She'd been home only minutes when the loud jangle of her phone shattered the eerie quiet. She almost let the answering machine take care of the call. Then she'd remembered.

Her message needed changing. She should be safe for now and she wasn't going anywhere. With Drake dead, she'd seen no reason to stay away; in spite of Detective Brigg's warning, the people who hired him still wanted her dead.

"Brit?" Drew's voice reassured her. "How about if I bring Monster home?"

"Oh, please. I miss my baby."

"I'm on my way. Thought you'd feel that way." She could hear her pet whine into the cell phone. Slurping noises came through. "Stop that, I'm taking you to your mama. Save your kisses for her, you monster."

"Oh, baby," Brit crooned.

"Just around the corner." Drew laughed. "I'm not dessert, you overgrown mutt." As he ended the connection, Brit could hear his truck engine in her driveway. He had made good time after leaving the reporters.

She raced to open her door. A bundle of energy hurtled itself at her. She dropped to her knees, then to the floor. She heard Drew laughing but saw nothing. Her eyes were closed to protect them from the tongue bathing her face.

"Someone will be in to clear out most of the surveillance equipment in the morning." Drew set a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, yeah, it is morning already."

"Thank you, Drew. Thank you." Brit held Monster's head, rubbing her face against his muscular neck. She pulled away from the enthusiastic doggy hugs to stand.

"Gotta get by headquarters, then get some rest. I'll have to be in Atlanta by noon to file reports and question Drake's employers. I think we can convince them we have the goods on 'em and get enough confessions to bury them all. Are you okay here alone?"

"It's my home, Drew. Besides, I'm not alone now, thanks to you." She hugged him.

He was nearly out the door when the question popped into her mind. "Who actually killed Drake?"

"I don't know." Drew shrugged. "We'll know more after ballistics tests come back."

"I never killed a man, before." Her voice shook, "I never even shot any living thing before tonight."

"For what it's worth, I don't think you killed him."

"I'd do it again to save Sam or anyone I love." Her voice hardened. Her eyes stared into Drew's amber ones. "I would!"

Brit planned to get to the hospital. She just had a few things to do first. She watched Officer Briggs and his men remove their equipment. The FBI men and Sam's technician cleared out the rest, leaving only Sam's security cameras and the usual home security measures.

By afternoon, she'd called the hospital twice to check on Sam. She left her house to go to the hospital, but detoured by Julie's. Together they watched television coverage of the nightmare. Would making everything so public make Brit safer? Who would dare threaten her now?

Julie talked about the hours she had spent at the police station and with the FBI agents. A certain bar owner had taken her home.

Remembering the first night she'd gone with Julie to Mustang Red's made Brit laugh. Julie had been with him on the night Drake had been captured at her home after the second attack. Jessie and Julie seemed so well matched.

The more Brit talked to Julie or Sam's family about him, the more she worried she should just try to stay away from him. It made no sense, but it made all the sense in the world. Her life would be busy without Sam.

* * * *

Sam reached for consciousness but it hovered outside his grasp. He heard voices, those of his family and other voices that became familiar as doctors and nurses tended him.

When he could finally make his voice work with his eyes and his brain, he asked questions. Everyone came but Brit. Julie and Jessie visited him. From Julie he learned that Brit had meant to visit but hadn't been able to. Esther told him about Brit's fear that she'd put him in danger and nearly cost him his life.

He couldn't believe she'd bargained with God for his life. Not once had he believed he would die. He had to make her understand they had been brought together by a power greater than either of them or any killer.

His premonitions had chosen her and they'd probably haunt him if he let her go. For the first time since he'd believed he loved Sean's mother more than anything, he knew he loved a woman so much he couldn't lose her. Brit and Sean were his life. He had to make her understand.

* * * *

By evening, the police had brought the Mustang home and it was back in her garage.

Life was back to normal, but there was no Sam in it. He must have gotten the message when she'd failed to visit him in the hospital or even call him. Each time she'd picked up the phone to call, she'd put it down without dialing the hospital number. He hadn't called her either. She was glad. Explaining things over the phone would have been so difficult.

Her sleep the first night after all the excitement had been filled nightmares. Sometimes she could have sworn she smelled the copper stench of blood after she awoke. Loving someone left a person open to pain and worry! She couldn't risk her heart like that again. She'd learn to live without him, but at least she wouldn't have to wonder when he'd look at her and remember what she had done. She couldn't be the kind of woman who didn't argue or put herself at risk again.

* * * *

Sam heard all the publicity about the shooting and threats against Brit. Newspapers and television channels covered every aspect they could. They even brought up Brit's husband Tommy and the crime he might have been suspected of committing if the media folks had been around then. He hadn't been accused of anything. Drew had returned to Atlanta, assured Sam he'd used Tommy's papers to finish nailing the lid in a coffin for the small town crooks.

Sam walked slowly from the street and up Brit's driveway. His arm and shoulder were stiff. His arm rested in a sling.

Why had the woman stayed away from the hospital? Esther had tried to tell him she didn't feel she would be good for him. Bull! Having her in his life was in his plans, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. She'd agree to marry him, if he had to talk to her all afternoon and all night. Sean was waiting to be his backup, if he needed to. He and his mother had flown into Atlanta and headed straight to the hospital.

Within minutes after Sean's mother had left his hospital room to take Sean home, Sam had been on his way to the nurses' station to check himself out.

By the time Sam was ready to leave, Sean had returned with his car. Adrienne had offered to drive Sam, but he and Sean refused her offer.

He didn't really think of his house as home anymore.
Where Sean and Brit are is home. All I have to do was make her believe it. And I will.

He knocked, but no one answered.

She has to know I'm here. Monster's raising a ruckus. Her garage door is open and I can see her Mustang.
Had everything really started with his following her home after school one evening to protect her?

He looked back at Sean. Sean's nod was encouragement enough.

Again, Brit stood at her screen door, looking like a lost soul. He remembered standing on this porch in the dead of night trying to persuade her to let him, practically a stranger, into her house to be sure she was all right.

She'd looked so vulnerable in her robe that night. In the daylight, wearing faded jeans and a short-sleeved sweater, she seemed fragile, especially with one bare foot resting on the other. He could stare at her all day and night and still need to drink in her freshness, her beauty. His heart raced at the thought of having her in his arms as his wife. Once she agreed to marry him, he could let his son take him to their house.

He cleared his throat and chanced a tentative half smile.

"Gonna let me in, Teach?"

"How'd you get here?" she asked instead of opening the door.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" She glanced at his wounded shoulder and winced as though she felt his pain.

She had to feel how much he loved her.

Sam tilted his head toward Sean. "My ride." He shrugged, then wished he hadn't. Shrugging hurt. Likely would for a while.

Brit looked back at him. Even through the screen, he could see tears brimming onto her lashes. "It's okay, sweetheart. Just let me in, please."

Her teeth worried her lip as she unlatched the door. She pushed it open. Before he stepped up to go inside, she moved to the edge of the step. Her trembling hands touched the sides of his face. "I'm so sorry I put you in danger!"

He groaned with the need to bury his face in the softness of her breasts. She brushed back a lock of his hair but returned her hand to hold his face. He saw her eyes close, just before her lips touched his forehead.

Air became scarce. Her scent was exciting, comforting, tempting. He'd know it anywhere.

His mouth opened to let out the breath he'd held. Her mouth touched his and set him ablaze. His uninjured arm slid around her waist, pulling her close. He slipped his tongue past her teeth, to caress and taste. Her need, matching his, shot through him to every part of him. His moans vibrated from his chest. His skin burned from her touch on his face, his neck, his shoulders.

Pain shot through the wounded arm and his chest, making him forget the pain building in his groin, reminding him they stood in her doorway, in plain sight of his son or anyone on the street, or watching from a window.

"Oh, Sam." She stepped aside, but reached to touch his uninjured arm to help him inside. "I'm so sorry I hurt you. I'm so sorry, I forgot."

He stepped inside. "I'm not." He touched a finger to her lips. "I'm not sorry, darlin'. I needed that."

"The pain?"

"The kiss. I need another one." He was gonna need it to get through the discussion ahead.

The large wet tongue washing his hand alerted Sam to Monster beside him. The big dog seemed to sense that he couldn't have handled the usual roughness and play.

"Sam, you need to sit." Brit guided him to a chair. She could see he was in pain. She hadn't planned to kiss him, but he'd looked so good, so much better than she'd expected, considering the way he'd looked when she'd left the hospital.

Had she really believed she could let him go? How could she live in the same town, teach his son, live in the same world, without showing how much she loved him?

"Sit with me, please?" He pointed to his lap.

She gingerly perched on the knee of his uninjured side.

"While I was lying in bed without you, I had a lot of time to think."

She knew about having too much time to think. Between her nightmares of losing Sam, she'd thought about nothing but him and her prayers and promises.

"Everyone told me about what you did. I remembered a scream, pain, then a gunshot. I was drowning in the black void. I heard your voice."

She remembered begging him not to die, ordering him to stay alive. In those moments, she'd known she couldn't live if he had died. She'd been in that place before and almost hadn't survived the pain of loss.

Sam's voice grew hoarse. "I could never have left you. I plan to marry you and start our family. So --"

"You haven't asked me --"

He grazed her palm with his lips. "Esther told me some nonsense about you having doubts."

"But, Sam …. "

"She said, I'd need to convince you we were right for each other. She said you can't have kids. You told me about that a lifetime ago and we'll adopt, if we have to. We have Sean."

"But I've never been a mother."

"Your students love you. Sean promises to try to be good, most of the time. At least you missed nasty diaper changing, and teething and childhood diseases …. "