The Invisible Hand - A crime novel

Chapter 98

I get back to the RV at the Man Camp late. Too late for supper. Sam already ate. So it's granola bars and Tang again. Too bad. After today, I could go for a burger.

I hit the shower. Change into fresh clothes. Get the mud from the rig out of my skin.

"You always going to be this late?" Sam says after I'm done.

"Maybe. Hard to say," I say. Open a granola bar. "Moved a lot of Les's dope. Powders and pills. First one gets them to work. Second one keeps them working."

"Meth and pain pills. Like peas and carrots," Sam says. Takes a seat across from me. "What else?"

I finish the granola bar. Open another two.

"I'm still pressure washing. Help where they need it," I say.

Sam strokes the raccoon penis jewelry around her neck. Watches me eat.

"I didn't mean work. I mean you. Anything else you want to talk about?" she says.

It's hard to remember yesterday. Feels like trying to recall a boring movie.

"You want to talk about yesterday? Can't say I remember much," I say.

"I didn't ask if you remembered yesterday," Sam says. "Do you feel OK? That's what I mean."

I look for another box of granola bars. Find one and pop it open.

"I'm fine, I guess," I say.

"So you're fine with yesterday?" Sam says.

"Yeah. I'm fine," I say.

Sam doesn't look satisfied with the answer. It's like she's waiting for something. I'm too tired to guess.

"Maybe you'll ask how I'm doing," Sam says.

I swallow a bar in mid chew.

"OK. How are you doing?" I say.

Sam rolls her eyes. "You're missing the point. Never mind," she says.

It's not that like that at all. I realize I should've asked. But with this weary fog I'm in, my brain isn't catching up to my mouth.

"Hey," I say. My hand touches hers. We cradle the jewelry together. "How are you?"

Sam lets a breath out. "Fine," she says.

I don't believe her. She wants me to press her for more. But I'm no good at this budding relationship bullshit.

"Good," I say back. There. Settled.

"Holy shit, you're dense," Sam says. Gets up from the small table.

I rub my eyes.

"No," I say. "Just tired."

"Easy for you to say. You didn't have some guy on top of you. Some guy cutting you. Some guy underneath your clothes. No. You played hero. Then you went back to work like it never happened," Sam says.

"You want to talk about shutting down? You never told me what he even did," I say.

Now we're both standing up.

"Does it even matter what he did at this point?" Sam says. "You walk in here like you don't even care. Like it's just another day."

How are we arguing right now? What happened? Wish she'd just tell me what she wants.

"I do care," I say.

"You're not showing it," Sam says.

Showing it in the right way is more like it. Because I do care. But it's only been 24 hours since it all happened. Is there a manual for these things I didn't read?

"If you need to talk about something, let's talk about something," I say. "You want to get outta here, let's get outta here. But tell me what you want."

Sam shakes her head.

"You don't understand," she says. "I've had all day to think about what happened to me. All day. There's nothing else to do. This is difficult for me."

No more decoding. I go straight out and say what I'm thinking.

"You think you're the only one Taw was hurting? When I saw you all bloody underneath him, it's like I was being hurt, too," I say. "I killed Taw, Sam. I fucking killed him. And I killed a guy coming to help him. Do you mean to tell me I don't care about you? Seriously, Sam?"

I surprise myself with that bit. Feels strange to say I killed someone. But the phrase has a familiar ring to it. Like I've thought it before.

I shelve the thought. Because the admission of how much I care about Sam trumps everything. Sends a warm shiver into my dead muscles.

Maybe that's the reaction she wanted all along.

I keep going. Why the hell not? It's all true.

"I've never felt like I could trust someone like you," I say. "It's almost like it was..."

Sam finishes my sentence.

"Meant to be," she says and laughs. "That is so cliché. But it's true. It does feel that way."

I crack a smile, too. It's good to see her laugh. Especially when there's no reason for her to do it. Not after yesterday.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," I say.

"Another cliché," Sam says.

I hug her. Not sure if kissing her is the right thing considering yesterday. But making sense is the least of anyone's concerns on the Bakken. I do it anyway.

"That's what I needed from you," Sam says.

Her voice tiptoes over the words. Like it's walking on the first ice of the season on a frozen lake.

I smile and hug her again. Not too tight. Her body is still tender.

Sam gives my hand a squeeze. "There's some microwave pizza in the cooler. You want some?" she says.

"You sit down. I got it," I say.

It isn't fancy, but it's a meal. More importantly, we eat it together. Not two people sitting and eating. Together.

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