A Foreign Affair - 5

The picture is of Sam. Ok IDEAS, IDEAS, IDEAS!!! I am at an extreme loss, which is why this chapter wasn't very long. So I need your help!! give me a comment with what you guys would like to see happen, maybe even a story line if you want, it's up to you, I'll take anything. Problem is, I can't remember exactly where I was going with this story in the first place. So if you really like it so far, then help me out so I don't lose interest and quit writing it. that would suck bad. Hope y'all like!
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Awkward.

That was the only word Sam could think of at that moment.

Completely and totally awkward.

These boys, whom Sam had never met, never spoken to, never even seen before, had saved her life three days ago. What in the world did you say to someone like that?

Darin stood before her, towering over her bed in all his glory. His nose was cut a little, the scab healing, ready to leave just the faintest of scars. He had switched his denim jacket and blue bandana for a simple black t-shirt and faded blue jeans. His sand colored hair was loose, left to fall where it pleased. His green eyes flashed brilliantly at her, a small smirk hiding behind them. Sam eyed his angelic face for a moment, taking in the silky tan of his skin, the flecks of brown in his eyes, the slight downward curve on the left side of his lips. He truly was a sight to behold.

Sam cleared her throat, tore her eyes away, and made a show of pouring herself another glass of stale water from the pitcher next to her bed. She suddenly became aware of how she looked. What she wouldn't kill for a mirror. Sitting away from the mattress slightly, she noticed the lack of air reaching her back, and was thankful her hospital gown was fully buttoned behind her. She wondered if she had any clothes here.

After sipping from her water, which she noticed seemed to provide no comfort for her aching throat, Sam pushed the blanket from her body, exposing her legs to the chill of the air, and swung them over the side of the bed. In what felt like a nanosecond, someone was at her side, and she looked up only to be met with the silky blue of Nick's eyes.

Startled, Sam paused, taking him in, drinking in the features of his weathered face. He was just as handsome as his brother, his hair sandy, but half a shade darker it seemed, almost brown. His face wasn't quite so angelic, but seemed more rugged, as if he'd known a lifetime of pain. His ocean eyes were lined with thick lashes, doing their best to hide the concern and worry she was sure she saw. She realized with a start that this was the first time she had even noticed his features.

Reaching up, she touched her fingertip to the cut above his eye, wincing for him at the pain she was sure she caused, but he never flinched. He had gotten that cut because of her, because she hadn't had enough sense to move out of the way of those jerks on the bus. Nick and Darin's pain was all because of her. She wondered if they blamed her. Sam's finger traveled down the length of his jaw, fingers meeting the stubble of a light five o'clock shadow.

How awkward had she made everything now?

She quickly dropped her hand and saved herself. "I'm ok, really," she said, her voice hoarse and scratchy. She cleared her throat and finally tore her eyes away. "Just looking for my sweater."

And maybe a brush and some toothpaste, she thought bitterly.

Nick allowed her to stand, moving back slightly, but staying within arms reach. She gave herself a moment to assess the strength in her legs before putting all of her weight on them. She silently thanked whatever higher being was out there that her knees didn't shake too much.

Walking over to the cabinets next to the sink, she opened the top door and felt her heart swell happily at the sight of her suitcase. Grams must have packed it for her just in case. Reaching up, she swiped it from the cupboard and closed the door.

"I'll just be a minute," she said to them, turning in time to see Darin nod. Sam glanced over at Nick, his eyes still concerned, but warming to her as she smiled. Against the cold tile of the floor, Sam turned and made her way into the bathroom, closing the door behind her and locking it with a small click of the button.

Sam set her suitcase on the diaper changing table the room provided and opened it quickly. She rummaged through, happy to see that Grams seemed to have read her mind. She pulled out a pair of loose jeans, a thin black shirt with long sleeves, and a small bathroom bag. Stepping quickly out of her hospital gown, careful not to disturb the shunt that was sticking out of her hand in case she needed an IV or anything, Sam went about dressing herself as quickly as possible. She managed to dig up a pair of Earth Spirit sandals from her suitcase, and she slipped them over her feet, thankful to get off the cold floor.

Sam turned to the mirror, and stopped cold in her tracks. She couldn't believe the person staring back at her. Stepping closer, she surveyed the damage.

Her blonde hair was disheveled, angry at the lack of care given to it during her stay. Dark shadows bordered her brown eyes, causing them to look small and sunken. A nasty bruise screamed from her jaw, like a black and green beetle on an angel food cake, making her look pale and forlorn. Her skin color was ashen, and beneath the sharp V-line of her shirt, you could see a faint show of bones from the lack of nourishment. She hadn't eaten in three days, and she noticed that her jeans were much looser than they should have been.

"Alright, that's fine," she hissed stubbornly at her reflection. "I'll just do my best with what I have to work with."

Opening her bathroom bag, Sam was relieved to find a toothbrush and toothpaste, a brush, some mascara and lipstick, and thankfully, a case of rouge. Working quickly, she brushed her teeth and applied the make-up, then decided to tackle the hair. She combed through the rats as fast as she could, wincing slightly as she ripped a few strands out, then pushed the long locks over her shoulders before cleaning up.

The door opened silently, and she stepped out of the bathroom to see Darin and Nick deep in conversation by the window. The blanket she had laid under was folded neatly at the bottom of her bed, and she smiled slightly at the obvious note that her pillow had been fluffed.

Nick looked her way first, and he stopped talking at once. His eyes danced over her, grimacing at the bruise on her face. "You look better," he said, "but too thin."

"You should really eat something," Darin chimed in, his face a mask of worry.

Sam waved her hand through the air in dismissal. "I'll eat when you leave. Right now, I want to talk." She made her way to the bed, sat down, and motioned for Darin and Nick to sit closer to her. They took the chairs, Darin moving his a bit closer to the bed, and sat in them, neither of them saying a word.

And again, awkward.

"Ok," she said, but stopped to take a quick drink of water. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "Ok, first, I want to say thank you, you know, for helping me on that bus. You really have no idea how much I'm in your debt-"

Darin waved his hand in the air, much in the same manner Sam had moments before. But she continued anyway.

"-And, I was also hoping you might be able to answer a few questions that I need answers to."

"Like what?" Nick said blatantly.

"Like, how do you know those guys? And what happened after I blacked out? And, well, what's your deal with Detective Gibson?"

Nick tensed at the mention of Gibson's name. Darin glanced at him, and then turned back to Sam. "Let's make this short and sweet, huh? Don't want the good ol' Doc telling us we need to leave in the middle of our conversation."

Sam nodded in response, thinking almost the exactly the same thing, and truth be told, she simply wanted answers. She wasn't a patient girl, and therefore didn't really care for long stories.

Darin took a deep breath, glanced at Nick, and began to speak.

"We know those blokes from back a few years. Nick and I were out with our brother, Simon. We were all drinking and having a good time, until Simon got into a fight with one of them. It was bad, real sick if ya know what I'm sayin'. To make a long story extremely short, JT ended up killin' Simon. Shoved a pool stick right through his heart. Dropped like a stone. The cops didn't show in time, but they came before I had a chance to lose it. Nick was already in deep with a couple of the others, and I had Manny by the throat when they pulled us apart. We were all arrested, but good ol' Gibson believed JT's story of self defense. The sad thing was, Simon had his back turned to JT, walkin' away to someone else when he put the stick in his back. It wasn't self defense, it was cold murder, and that bastard let 'em all walk."

Sam looked at Nick, noticing the way his knuckles had turned white from clenching his fist.

"Gibson ain't done nothin' about it, and he won't let anyone else either. We've been trackin' those blokes for months, just waitin' for a chance to bring 'em down, but until the other day, we ain't had any luck. This may sound harsh, but you ain't the only reason we fought them that day, you were just a very good reason."

What to say? These men had saved her life, but he was right, it did sound harsh. Sam had a vivid flash of what would have happened had Darin and Nick not been after them. The pictures weren't pretty to say the least. No wonder Gibson had been so rough with her.

"Does Gibson have some sort of connection with JT or the others?"

"Not that we know of," Darin said.

"But we were thinkin' the same damned thing," Nick interjected, shooting a meaningful look at his brother.

"What?" Darin quipped. "What is that look for?"

Nick shifted in his seat, facing his body a little more towards his brother. "I'm tryin' to say that it's not such a far-fetched idea."

"How do you figure? It's plain nuts mate," Darin said, and Sam knew there was some deeper meaning to their conversation.

"I think," she began, having to clear her throat again, "what he's saying is that it might be a good piece of info, considering the fact that a complete stranger just asked you that question. I mean, if it's so preposterous, then why would I think it too?"

"See," Nick said, turning back to his original position. "It ain't dumb."

Darin rubbed his chin. "I suppose it's something to look into, but at the same time, why should we waste time on Gibson when it isn't him we're after?"

Sam spoke before Nick could. "Because Gibson might be the key to bringing them down."

Nick's eyes found hers. His gaze confirmed what she had said, and she blushed a little. It was a moment before she could tear them away, but when she turned back to Darin, she was startled to find him staring between the two of them.

"Holy crow," he said loudly. "You two are fallin' for each other aren't ya?!"
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Love y'all!!