Where is Sam Grant?
Where was Sam Grant indeed. Even the papers had noticed he was missing and had no information on his whereabouts. It was only a matter of time before someone put two and two together and the media shitstorm would start.
Christine crumpled the tabloid and threw it on the floor. One week. It had been one week since she'd last seen Sam, since she'd last touched him, taking it for granted. Thinking she'd always have more time to talk to him, to be with him.
Where was he? His phone was switched off, he hadn't answered his texts or e-mails... Nothing had worked and she had stopped because it was already getting sad.
Her phone buzzed and her heart hitched. But once she picked it up, disappointment grabbed on to her. It was Harry calling. Again. Why couldn't he just take the hint? The only reason she hadn't blocked his number yet was because he might have some news about Sam.
"Leave me alone," she muttered, throwing her phone back on the vanity table.
It chimed for an incoming message. That guy just didn't know when to quit. But she glanced at the screen all the same.
Christine, answer me!
Yeah, right. That convinced her.
At least let me know you're alright.
How pathetic could he get?
Did he do something to you?
The last message had her picking up the phone just as it started ringing again. This time, she answered.
"Can't you take a damn hint?" she growled.
"Thank God! You could've said something!"
"I don't want to say anything."
"You have to let me know. Did he hurt you?" He sounded so serious, like he'd actually do something if Sam hurt her. Except he was a freaking moron.
"What the hell kind of question is that?"
Sam didn't hurt people, he didn't hit girls. The memory of his punch landing inches from her face had her trembling. But he'd only done it to intimidate her and it had worked like a charm.
"A justified one. I don't believe you. Is he home?"
Yeah, right. As if it could be that easy. "Just leave me alone."
"Not until I make sure you're not lying to me."
There was a heavy knock on the door. For a moment, Christine was tempted to ignore it, but the need to let out her frustration on someone was far greater, so she threw her phone on the bed and charged towards the front door.
Harry stood in front of it, wearing a black shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black jeans. He had a bandage on the bridge of his nose and his jaw was still purple and swollen even if it had been a week since Sam had punched him.
His eyebrows were drawn together in worry, his dark hair was messier than ever, and he hadn't shaved in a few days.
The look suited him, made his look like a ragged war hero, and Christine's heart skipped a beat. She chastised herself for it, because she was done with this. Yes, Harry was handsome and reasonably good in bed, but her indulgence in him had ruined everything so she wouldn't go down that road again.
Instead, she would appreciate Harry for his other use. Someone who adored her, someone she could yell at, a doormat she could use to wipe her dirty feet.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she said between her teeth.
He ignored her, stuffed his phone in his pocket and turned her around. Before she had a chance to catch her footing, he lifted her tank top, taking in her back.
"Hey, get your hands off me!"
He twisted her again, his eyes scanning her arms, her chest, her bare legs since she only had on a pair of shorts. And then, he finally let out a deep breath. Christine gritted her teeth, realizing he'd been searching for bruises or finger marks. Did he even know Sam at all?
"Don't ever touch me again," she said, poking him in the chest. "Don't you dare lift my clothes."
Harry let out a short laugh. "It's not like there's something under there I haven't already seen before."
She slapped him hard across the face, but he barely moved. She should've hit his other cheek and take advantage of the bruise Sam had left there.
"Slap me all you want," he said with a shrug. "It doesn't make it less true. Doesn't change the fact that you liked it and kept coming back for me."
"Oh no, don't pin this on me. You're the one who kept crawling back."
He chose to ignore this detail. "Where's Sam?"
"I don't know." The words were out before she could filter whether she wanted him to know or not.
"I don't either," he said, his voice low. "I've been trying to call him, but his phone's switched off. Predictably enough. He's not at his house either."
Christine had considered the option too, but had been too scared to pass by the Grant house. At least now she had information, even if it was troubling because she assumed he would be there. Of course he could be at any of his brothers', but that didn't make things better since those places were definitely off limits. If only Angie would pick up her damn phone...
She rubbed her arms, suddenly feeling cold. Harry was right there, next to her, a furnace of heat, but she refused to give in.
"He's not going to forgive us, Chrsitine," Harry said quietly. "He had limits and we broke them. I was hoping..." He took in a big breath. "It doesn't matter what I was hoping. It is what it is. But now, we have the chance to build something new. Something clean."
Her mind had wondered while he spoke, but the last phrase shocked her back to attention. "What?"
He put his hands on her shoulders, his touch gentle as he came closer to her, the hope in his eyes disgusting. "I hated what we were doing to Sam. And I never liked sharing you. This sucks, but it's our chance to finally be together."
Christine could only stare, unable to believe the crap coming out of his mouth. She knew she was a good actress, but she'd never even insinuated that she was in it for more than sex.
"You're crazy," she whispered.
"Am I? Maybe you're the crazy one. I give you what you need, Christine. Attention, physical affection. You're everything to me. I love you and would treat you like a queen."
She stepped back, breaking out of his grip. "You love me?"
"Of course I love you. I've loved you from the first moment I saw you. Seeing you with Sam has been hell. And knowing he wasn't giving you what you needed... You weren't good for each other."
"And you think we are?" She let out a cruel laugh, but he wasn't getting the message.
"I do. Because I'm willing to dedicate myself to you. So come with me. Be with me."
"Oh, my God, Harry, you're so pathetic!"
He winced, but it only fuled her to go on. For the first time in days, she was feeling strong and in control again, like less of a failure, like less of a rag. Because despite everything she had done, she knew it was wrong. She didn't try to justify it by using a flowery love triangle story. There was no triangle just like there had never been any question of who she had chosen.
"Don't you get it?" She took a step forward and was satisfied to see him stepping back. "I don't want to be with you. I don't need you. I don't love you. I love Sam. You were never anything but a means to get to him."
He frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"When Lisa said she'd hook me up with one of her best friends, I wanted it to be Sam so badly. It turned out to be you. You were cute, but definitely not what I wanted. You were fun until I could finally get his attention. I never wanted you."
He winced and took another step back, the stupid hope in his gaze finally dying. "You used me."
"Of course I used you! And I never hid it, never pretended to love you. I've been honest!" The only one she hadn't been honest with was Sam, the only guy she ever actually loved, and it tore through her.
"But you were so... vulnerable," he whispered as if he couldn't believe this very obvious information.
"I have my weak days, but it doesn't mean I care about you." This hurt. Why couldn't Sam just give her what she needed? Why did they have to get here?
"Christine..." Harry looked at his feet. "We could be happy if you just gave us a chance."
"Happy?" God, he was hardheaded. "I want to get back with Sam. Tell me, Harry, how would that work if I try to be happy with you?"
She finally seemed to have gotten her message across, because his face darkened. "Sam's never going to take you back. And not just because you cheated, but because you chose me out of everyone else in this world."
"You don't know me, Harry. I can get everything I set my mind to. Including Sam, and including you. Except I don't want you."
Silence filled the space between them. Harry's face scrunched up in disgust and the cold inside her seemed to grow. She could still do it. Reach out to him, make him hold her, praise her, love her.
"I'm not going to beg," he said, his voice low and even. "Because even if I'm willing to give you everything, it doesn't mean you actually deserve it. And I honestly deserve better than you."
His words cut her to the core, but she crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. "Really now?"
"Yes, really. But..." He let out a heavy sigh. "No, no buts. I should go. I won't be bothering you again." And just like that, he turned to leave.
"What if I bother you?" she asked before she could help it.
He hesitated for a second, but didn't turn around. "You won't." And with that, he was out the door and out of her life.
The realization was both freeing and terrifying. But before she could agonize over it, her phone chimed from the bedroom and for once, she was sure it wasn't Harry. Her heart started beating erratically once she realized Angie had finally answered her stream of messages.
Okay, we can meet. In an hour, location of your choice.
Cold, but better than nothing. Christine picked up the phone to type in the nearest diner.
♠️
Angie watched the text she'd received from Christine, a sinking feeling in her stomach. But she couldn't avoid it any longer and maybe Christine deserved having her side of the story be told. But it still made her feel like she was doing something wrong.
She glanced at Tom who lay next to her in bed, sleeping after an all-nighter surveying Von Crooken and his goons for a clue as to their next operation. He hadn't said anything about Sam or Christine since Sam had left, but Angie could tell he was more tense than usual, more worried and tired. He probably wanted to talk to Sam, but they'd all agreed to leave him alone and let him disconnect.
Sam would be back the next day anyway, so it would all be better soon. Or worse. Sam's impending return was what determined Angie to talk to Chrsitine in the first place. She wanted to make sure Christine wouldn't start hounding him. Sam needed time and space to heal before he could even face her.
With a sigh, Angie rolled closer to Tom and put her hand on his cheek. He didn't stir but opened one eye to look at her.
"What's up?" he mumbled, his voice raspy from sleep.
"I'm going to meet Christine."
Though she feared backlash, he only nodded. "Seems like the right thing to do. Just tell her to stay away from him."
"I'm planning to." She gave him a quick kiss on the lips and got out of bed. "Thanks for being so cool about this."
"You do know I want every detail of what she said, right?" He raised on his elbows, a smirk on his face.
The way his hair was messy and eyes hazy, Angie was sorry she'd given Christine such a short time frame. Tom was never too tired to rise to the challenge, but she didn't want to be late. So she just went over, kissed him again, much deeper, and pulled back with a smirk of her own.
"Of course. Now get some sleep. I want you in better shape by the time I get back."
"I'm always in good enough shape to own you."
"Tease all you want, but you're exhausted." Her smile softened. "I love you so much."
"Love you too, babe. To the moon and back. Now go show Christine how it's done." And he dropped back on the pillows, already half asleep.
Angie put her hair up in a pony tail, grabbed her phone off the bedside table and left. As she drove to the place Christine had chosen for their meeting, a big goofy smile stayed plastered on her face. She couldn't wait to go back to Tom. He'd been amazing over the past few months, even more so than usual, and she thought this thing with Sam would be the end of it.
Instead, he'd shown her how much he'd grown, how understanding and mature he could be, and it was that more than anything that made her realize they were grown up. The years they've spent together were showing and it kept getting better and better. It made everything so much easier to bear. Even this Christine thing.
Once Angie entered the diner and spotted Christine, she couldn't tell if she was surprised or not. Part of her had expected Christine to show some signs of what had happened. Have her looking tired, wear no make up, maybe show up in some old, comfortable clothes.
Not a chance. Christine was as well put together as ever, as if nothing had happened, and it made Angie want to turn and leave. She missed her chance since Christine spotted her and waved her over.
"Thank God you're here," she breathed, and while her look hid everything, the voice was an entirely different story.
Angie had never heard her sound so desperate. She joined her at the table, the need to hug her battling the need to punch her in the face. Christine pushed a cup of coffee towards her.
Angie eyed the drink. "I don't plan on staying long, so shoot."
Christine flinched. "I know I deserve to hear it, but not you too, Angie. I know what I did was wrong. It was just..." She sniffed and her eyes glazed over with unshed tears. "I felt so lonely."
"Seriously Christine? That's your excuse?" It was so lame, Angie felt insulted.
"It's not an excuse. There's no excuse. Look, I don't know how much you know--"
Anger rose inside Angie and she banged her fist against the table, rattling the cups of coffee on it. "I know enough. Cheating, Christine? Really? And with Harry out of all people?"
Christine flinched again and the tears escaped down her face. "It's easy to fall back into old habits. And I'll admit I'm so bad at handling rejection."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Of course he didn't tell you," she said bitterly. "Sam and I never had sex."
Angie's mouth dropped open. "What?"
Christine smiled, but it was bitter. "We had this weird thing where we'd start, but he would always find some reason to pull away at the last moment. I admit, I was a bit confused at first. But then, when it persisted, I just thought that maybe there was something wrong with me. And he kept leaving, coming back exhausted... So when he left me once, I slipped.
"Harry was there. I don't think you know this either, but before going out with Sam, I went out with Harry. He was comfortable and familiar and I was drunk with sadness. I was horrified after it happened. But then..."
She wiped her eyes and sniffed. "It was so easy to fall into it again. Whenever I felt lonely, whenever I felt like Sam was rejecting me, Harry was there to show me that someone wanted me. That I still counted for someone."
Nausea rose up Angie's throat and she felt like slapping Christine. The sadness in her voice was making Angie squirm and she sure as hell didn't want to be sympathetic about it. Tom's words rang in her head.
"If you had a problem with Sam, you should've told him so, not screw someone behind his back," she said between her teeth.
"You wouldn't understand." Christine's gaze darkened and the edge in her voice spoke of danger. "Not when Tom is all over you. Not when you probably had to beat him down with a stick to get him off you until you were ready. You don't know what it feels like to love someone so much and feel like they're not returning your affection."
"Oh, yes, because you obviously love Sam to bits, or else you couldn't get it on with his best friend." Maybe it was cruel, but Angie hated that she understood.
She knew Christine well enough to know how lack of attention screwed with her mind, turned her into a monster. Over the years, Angie had learned that the confidence Christine exhibited was nothing but a mask. Deep inside, she was nothing but an insecure little girl. And it was that part of her that had made Angie care for her. But now, she wished this side of her friend didn't exist.
"Don't pretend not to know better," Chrsitine growled. "Because you do. You're the only one I opened myself to. I know I made a mistake, but I expected better of you."
Guilt battled annoyance inside of Angie, so she was more than grateful when her phone started ringing. She dived under the table to get it out of the backpack.
"Seriously, Angie? You're going to answer your phone now?"
Christine sounded pissed, but Angie ignored her and answered without even checking the caller ID.
"Yes?"
"Hello? Um, Angie?"
She frowned since she didn't recognize the man's voice. "Yes?"
"It's Gabe Seymour, your parents' neighbor." His voice became more and more panicky with each word.
"Oh, hi Gabe." Yes, she could remember him, though calling him a neighbor was a bit far fetched, but he was the person living closest to her family's new house. The only reason he had her number was because he insisted and she thought it would be useful. "What can I do for you?"
"I don't know what to do." His voice lowered and trembled. "There's fire and smoking coming from your folks' house. I called 911, but it's been a half an hour and no one is coming."
The air seemed to drain from the world and ice filled Angie's veins. Her vision tunneled and she was sure she was choking. "What?" The word was barely discernable.
"Please. I didn't know what to do, who else to call. I'm pretty sure they were all home... You should come down here."
She should ask more questions, she knew she should, but she had nothing. Her ears rang and she thought she heard someone calling her name.
"That's it!" Christine snatched the phone out of her hands and stared at it. "Who the hell is Gabe?"
Angie ignored her. On autopilot, she dove under the table for her backpack. Her head hit the wood on the way up hard enough to darken her vision for a few seconds. She needed to go out of there, she needed to stop wasting time.
"Angie!"
"I have to go," she mumbled, digging into her wallet and throwing down a five for the untouched coffee. Her eyes scanned everything around her madly, but her fear and throbbing head made it very hard to focus.
Christine just stared at her like an idiot, but Angie had no time for her drama. Not anymore. She had to get out of there and to her family. So before Christine could say another word, she charged out, got into her car and shot off towards the airport. She needed a ticket to Tucson. She needed to get home and make sure her family was safe.
Her mind churned and her heart beat so fast it made her dizzy, nauseous. It was a wonder she didn't crash the car, didn't vomit all over the windshield. Even more so when there were no tickets available that day. She couldn't wait, couldn't be still. And through it all, her head throbbed so badly, she was sure it would explode.
So she got back in the car and drove to Springfield. There had to be a place where she'd find a plane ticket. There had to be a way for her to get home on time. If she kept chanting it enough times, maybe it would be true. She just needed to keep moving.
She'd reached the airport in Springfield and secured her ticket when she suddenly realized that she no longer had her phone. Not that it mattered now. Her plane would leave and she'd get her answers one way or another. And nothing else mattered.
♠️♠️♠️
I enjoyed this. Maybe a little too much. Did you expect Harry to feel this way? What about Christine's decision to cut it off? She's actually trying even if a bit late 😅
And yeah... Angie had to leave. Unexpectedly and she did a dumb. A big fat dumb.
There will be consequences. Stay tuned for the drama that follows. Trigger number two has been pulled.
Vote and comment and goat 🐐