Page 2 of Sam's Salvation
Sam rolled his neck and stepped away from the window. He needed to move. Crossing to the small duffel he brought for the one-night trip, he dug out some running gear and quickly changed. Maybe pounding the pavement would pound Audra out of his head.
Downstairs, he exited the smoky lobby straight into a cloud of marijuana-scented air. Wrinkling his nose, he took off, hoping he could escape the smell. He knew he’d never find the clean, fresh air of home, but something that resembled a normal city would be nice.
Audra’s face kept pace with his footfalls as he ran, refusing to leave his brain. He ran faster. Why couldn’t he get her off his mind? It had been ten years since he’d seen her. Ten years since their little interlude in Rota. Sure, their time together had been amazing, but they’d both known it was temporary. When he left to rejoin his unit, he’d had no regrets. Over the years, he’d thought about her. What man wouldn’t revisit some of the greatest sex of his life? He’d even inquired about her a time or two, making sure she was doing okay. A month before Sam’s convoy was ambushed and his life changed, she’d gone off the grid. After he left the service and joined Ford in Costa Rica, he’d asked Asher to check into her whereabouts. He couldn’t find her.
Which brought him back to why the hell was she in Vegas pretending to be an American? She was either deep undercover, or she’d crossed over to the dark side. He was betting on the former, but she had a reckless streak, so he couldn’t rule out the latter.
Turning a corner, he found himself on the same street where he’d been earlier that day when he saw her. He slowed his pace as he came up to the restaurant. Tipping his head, he read the sign. Byrne’s. Sounded British. Or Irish. He didn’t stop. No need to attract attention in case someone was around who might have seen him earlier.
Instead, he crossed to the kebab shop across the way. He’d get a late-night snack and watch the place for a bit. After placing an order, he sat down at one of the tables tucked behind a pillar and turned his chair to face Byrne’s. He knew the odds were slim she’d show up again, but he could probably learn a bit about what she was up to by who came and went. It was none of his business, and he didn’t know what he’d do with the information. But he had to know. He had to be sure she was safe.
Twenty minutes later, he had a decent idea of what was going on. Several men with mafia tattoos had pulled up and entered the restaurant. He’d bet his pension it was a front for the Irish mob.
Sam scowled. How the hell did she get mixed up with them? And why? The New IRA had been quiet as of late. Even if they weren’t, it would make more sense for her to be embedded with them in Ireland or the United Kingdom. Not in the U.S.—with an American accent.
The restaurant’s front door opened. Audra emerged, dressed in a short black cocktail dress and a black fur coat. A man out front asked her something, to which she shook her head and walked several yards away. She dug into her small black clutch and pulled out a piece of chewing gum, stuffing it into her mouth. Sam smiled, remembering her habit of chomping on spearmint Extra every time she was annoyed.
He got up from his seat, tossing his trash in a can as he jogged down the sidewalk. There was an alley twenty feet behind where Audra stood. It was a long shot, but maybe he could get her out of sight and get some answers.
Keeping an eye on her, he went several storefronts down before he crossed the road again. When he reached the alley, he leaned on the corner of the building closest to her, then started whistling the song they’d danced to the first night they’d spent together.
She straightened away from the building where she’d been leaning. She stared straight ahead, but Sam knew her eyes were looking everywhere but at the jewelers. He kept whistling. After a few moments and a glance at the restaurant, she stuffed her hands in her coat pockets and wandered his way, looking like a woman just out for a stroll.
Audra passed him without a word, but turned into the alley. She wandered into the shadows. He only knew she stopped because he could no longer hear her heels clacking on the asphalt. With a quick survey to make sure no one was paying them any attention, he followed.
Three
Darkness descended on Audra Ridley, wrapping her in its arms, much like her heavy coat. Normally, she liked being able to see, but tonight she was thankful for the shadows. She didn’t want anyone to see her—see them. And she didn’t want to have to look into Sam Brackley’s eyes. She’d drown in the midnight blue pools. Of all the people she had to run into… Why the devil was he here?
Soft footfalls approached. Backlit by the bright lights on the street, Sam’s tall, imposing figure walked toward her. She tensed.
“Are we alone?”
His low baritone rumbled over her nerve-endings, sending a low voltage of electricity humming through her veins. How could he still do that after ten years?
She quashed the feeling and answered him. “Yes.”
“Good. Care to tell me what’s going on?”
“No. Why are you here?”
“Uh-uh. I asked first.”
“Yes, well, I’m not at liberty to say.”
He crossed his massive arms. Even in the shadows, she could see him raise that eyebrow at her. It was infuriating—though adorable—ten years ago, and it still was today. She crossed her arms and stared back.
He huffed. “A friend of mine got married today. I’m here for the wedding. Your turn.”
Audra swallowed and looked away. “It’s complicated.”
“It always is with you. Just—” He stopped and let his arms fall to his sides, propping his hands on his waist. “You’re safe, yes?”
“Yes. I’m safe. It’s an assignment. I really can’t tell you more than that.”
“I figured. And I’ve drawn my own—” He stopped again, circling a finger in the air, and growled. “Dammit,” he muttered softly.
Audra frowned. “Are you all right?”