Chapter Thirty-One

Meg started from one again. She’d lost count of her steps back and forth across the room. As a child she used to count anything and everything to pass the time and deal with anxiety. She stopped counting years ago, but then life hadn’t been this stressful for a while.

What if he refused to pay? Perhaps she should have waited until after he posted bail then told him about Michael. She hoped to God he didn’t leave her rotting in jail. She needed to pee, and the stainless steel toilet with no seat or lid in the corner of the room held no appeal. She should pretend she was Chuck Norris playing a kick arse bad guy in a movie, he wouldn’t be afraid to piss in public. He would stand up to pee. She tried that once on a trip to Paris when the only public toilet she could find was one of those squat ones. The experience hadn’t ended well. She had to tie her jacket around her waist and seek refuge in Bon Marche until she became the owner of a pair of expensive designer jeans. Women couldn’t pee that way; they didn’t have the balance or coordination, never mind the equipment, to pull it off successfully.

The sound of metal on metal alerted her to the return of Officer Delaney. Meg sat on the bed, pulled her knees up to her chest and hid her eyes; she didn’t want to see the look on Delaney’s face if she had brought bad news. She didn’t want to see that sad pathetic expression people get when they try to pretend they’re upset, even when they don’t give a shit.

“Maggie?”

She didn’t sound like she was about to give her bad news. Perhaps she should risk a peek. Opening one eye, Meg scoped out Delaney. A big grin spread across the officer’s face.

“If you don’t open your eyes and follow me you’ll be here all night. Your man has paid the bail and is waiting for you.”

Sam hadn’t turned tail and run. “How did he take the news?”

Delaney shrugged. “I suggest you ask him. Now let’s go. I’ve got a couple of drunks with their names on this cell, unless you want to stay here and share with them?”

Meg shook her head. “No way. What about Aunt Maud and Michael? Are they getting out as well?”

Delaney nodded. “Sure, he paid their bail and even left some cash for them to get cabs home. He doesn’t want to meet Maud or Michael so we agreed to hold them until you were both gone.”

She felt sick. He wouldn’t want to see Aunt Maud because she couldn’t keep her hands off his arse. She had some sympathy with her; Sam had an amazingly toned rear end. Michael, she guessed he didn’t want to meet in case he felt compelled to throttle him. Would he want to throttle her as well?

* * * *

Delaney had graciously let her use the staff toilets before going to meet Sam. She splashed some water on her face and tidied up her hair as best as she could. The reflection in the mirror pulled no punches. She was a mess. What had she been thinking when she pulled on the purple track suit? It wasn’t her color, and the chocolate stain on the front added nothing to the style.

If there was ever a time in her life when she wanted to look good this would be the moment. Well, this moment and her wedding day, not that she thought she would have one of those anytime soon. Apart from the fact she’d fight her mother all the way not to turn it into a huge event, no one would want to marry a pimp besides other criminals. All the criminals she’d seen on the Crime and Investigation Channel appeared to be a few sandwiches short of a picnic and in need of some personal hygiene advice.

Regardless of her future marital status, she didn’t want Sam to think he’d rescued some hobo. She wanted him to feel like she was worthy of saving because she deserved some sympathy. Wanting to improve her appearance had nothing to do with how he might feel about her and their relationship—they didn’t have one. And it was definitely nothing to do with wanting to look desirable enough to be welcomed back in his bed, because they weren’t sleeping together anymore. No way. No how. No matter what.

Her life had been an out of control freight train heading for the edge of a cliff for days and now she finally had the brakes on. Maybe she wasn’t ready for life as a nun, but she knew she couldn’t be someone’s fuck buddy either. Her mother always told her girls only wanted to be intimate to make babies. She had been so wrong, sex with Sam had been the most fun she ever had, but she’d been right when she said outside of a committed relationship sex was the fast track to hell. Sam was only in it for the sex, she had to be strong for both of them if they were to ever move beyond this and salvage their friendship.

The further down the corridor they went, the faster her heart beat. Delaney held the door open and she stepped into the front office. Sam stood with his back to her, hands in his jacket pockets, eyes focused on something outside the window. She wouldn’t be able to read his expression and judge how he felt about the situation until he turned to face her.

When the door clicked shut, he spun around and made eye contact with her. She didn’t know what she’d expected to see, but the fierce look took her breath away. It was a mixture of rage and raw passion. Without a word he stepped to the front door and held it open for her. She walked outside, following him to his motorbike. Still silent, he handed her the spare helmet and she pulled it on before climbing on behind him.

He hadn’t said anything and she had lost her tongue. The discussion they needed to have was probably best saved for the privacy of their home. When he pulled the bike out of the lot she had no choice but to wrap her arms around him or risk falling off. He rode like a man possessed. Thankfully they didn’t have far to go or she feared they would never make it, wiped out under a truck, or wrapped around a light pole.

Sam parked the bike. She clambered off and handed him her helmet. His silence freaked her out. She felt sick to her stomach; he obviously hated her now. Perhaps the purple tracksuit and yellow shoes had pushed him over the edge, or maybe it was her selling Michael Monaghan’s body to old age pensioners, naw, it would definitely be the outfit. If that were only the case, then she could fix it by slipping into something a little less revolting. Too late now, apparently their friendship was over.

Why had she ever gotten involved in the entire dumb Male Order business? Bad enough Sam hated her, her whole family would find out soon enough. Maggie Riley the town’s madam. Head down, fighting a crying jag, she searched her bag for her keys then let herself inside. Sam followed behind. Why the hell didn’t he just say something? Anything? Even, you disgust me.

She tossed her bag on the coffee table, spilling the contents across its polished surface, then wiped a hand under each eye, clearing her cheeks of tears. Head down, she mumbled, “I’ll pack some things and move in with Laura for a while to make it easier on both of us.”

Sam grabbed her arm, dragging her closer before putting a finger under her chin and tipping her face up. She finally made eye contact with him and the fierce look was still there.

“Is that what you want? To walk out and leave me behind?”

Meg shrugged. She knew she didn’t want to get up every day and have him scowl at her because she had ruined their whole friendship. “I can’t sleep with you anymore. Being a fuck buddy isn’t working. My whole life is a mess and I need to sort myself out. I figured it would make things easier for both of us if I left.”

He stared into her eyes, his expression softening, voice husky with emotion. “What if I don’t want things to be easier? What if I don’t want you to go anywhere? Is leaving me what you want?”

Her resolve wavered. If she walked out it was over, their friendship, everything. She would never see him again. Now they weren’t having sex anymore he would find someone else and if she stayed, she would hear the hussy riding the wild stallion whilst she slept alone. Meg shrugged as another tear spilled down her cheek. “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

In one swift move, Sam lifted her off her feet and crossed the room, depositing her unceremoniously on the couch. “You might not know what you want, but I do.”