Seeking Vengeance (5 page)

Molly walked into the living room, about to ask about the dinner, but stopped short. Kelsie sat on the coffee table, her sundress hiked up as she pointed out her owie to Sam.
“I got a boo-boo like you. My mommy's gonna fix it, but guess what? Tiger saved me, and we're gonna have chicken fingers!”

Sam nodded as he regarded Kelsie's injured knee and the stuffed animal.
“Yeah, that's some dog you have there.” He reached out and chucked Tiger's muzzle.

“
Yep!” Kelsie jumped off the table, the toe of her shoe colliding with Sam's injured leg. He jerked, but said nothing, his lips tight.

“
Kelsie!” Molly moved into the living room. “Say you're sorry.”

“
What?”

“
You just hurt Mr…Mr. Sam's owie with your foot. You have to be more careful.”

Kelsie looked from Sam to Molly, her lip pushing out.
“I didn't mean to.”

“
I know, hon, but you need to apologize.”

Sam waved his hand.
“It's fine. It was an accident and I had my leg in the way.”

“
See, Mommy?”

Molly sighed.
“Yes, I see, but you still need to apologize.”

Her eyes brimming, Kelsie turned to Sam. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kick your owie.”

The corner of Sam’s eyes crinkled as he tilted his head and reached out, his fingers brushing over Kelsie’s hair before he pulled his hand back. He cleared his throat. “I know you didn’t.”

The tears dried up instantly and Kelsie beamed first at Sam and then turned her smile on Molly.

Molly watched the exchange, wondering at the softness in Sam’s expression, but Kelsie ran over to her and hugged her waist before she could process it fully. Pushing Kelsie’s hair out of her eyes, Molly bent and kissed her forehead. “Go wash up for dinner and put Tiger in your room like I told you.” She gave her a nudge towards the hall. When the little girl was in her room, she turned to Sam. “Sorry.”

“
Don't worry about it. I can handle a six-year old's kick.” His mouth quirked, but sorrow shadowed his eyes.

“
She can be pretty headstrong.” Molly crossed her arms. “Thank you for managing dinner for me. I appreciate it.”

Sam shrugged, wincing at the motion.
“Not a big deal. I owe you.”

“
No. Johnny owes me, but regardless, I appreciate the help. It was very thoughtful of you.” Molly noticed a flush staining Sam's cheeks and bit back a smile. The guy was uncomfortable with praise. “So, do you feel up to eating with us tonight?”

“
Sure.” Sam stood, his limp a bit more pronounced as he made his way to the kitchen.

She wondered if she
should take a look at his leg to see if any damage had been done, but Kelsie ran out of the bathroom holding a box of bandage strips. “Oh, hon. I almost forgot. Let me fix you up.”

Feeling awkward, Sam leaned against the counter while Molly cleaned Kelsie's knee, and he felt a catch in his throat when she bent to kiss the scrape before putting the bandage on it. He remembered the days when a kiss could make everything all better. Looking for something to take his mind off the past, he scanned the kitchen and spotted the pot-holders. The chicken and potatoes were probably done.

“
Want me to get the stuff out of the oven?” Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the oven mitts, and opened the oven door.

“
Sure. That would be great. I'm just going to nuke some corn. It'll only take a few minutes.”

Molly opened the can of vegetables, poured them into a bowl and popped it in the microwave while Sam deposited t
hree chicken fingers and half a dozen wedges on Kelsie's plate. “How many do you want? Four? Five?” He held the baking sheet in one hand, a spatula in the other as he waited for Molly's reply.

The microwave beeped, and Molly glanced at him.
“Five. I'm starving. And lots of wedges.”

Sam grinned.
“You got it.”

He took the same for himself then returned the pan to the top of the stove.
“You want something to drink? I can pour us something.”

Molly laughed as she pulled the corn from the microwave.
“This feels so odd. I'm not used to having help, but that would be great. Kelsie gets milk, but I'll have some of the lemonade in the pitcher. Help yourself to whatever looks good.”

Sam pulled two glasses and a child's plastic
cup from the cabinet. It did feel odd, yet also comfortable. He chose orange juice again, poured Molly her request and filled Kelsie's cup with milk. He set his and Molly's drinks at their places, and turned to get the milk.

Mo
lly had already grabbed it, but struggled to carry the corn, ketchup and the cup. He did a quick hobble towards her, reaching for the ketchup and milk. “After you.” He gestured to her chair.

Molly slanted him a smile.
“What a gentleman.”

Sam felt warmth build in his chest.
“Not really. I'm just hungry.” He put the milk in front of Kelsie. “There ya go, punkin.”

The endearment slipped out before he could check it and guilt st
ole over him. It had been a long time since he'd used that tone of voice and he couldn't deny that it felt good, as though everything was okay. But, it wasn't okay and it wouldn't be until he finished his mission. He stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork and ate it, doing his best to tune out Kelsie's chatter and Molly's laughter.

“
Mr. Sam?”

“
Sam?”

He jerked his head up, suddenly aware that they were both looking at him as though waiting for a reply.
“I'm sorry. I didn't catch the question.”

Molly's head tilted and she regarded him with a curious expression.
“It's nothing. Kelsie just wondered where you learned to cook.”

Embarrassed, Sam pasted on a smile.
“All I did was stick the chicken in the oven.” He pointed his fork at Molly. “Your mom did the hard stuff.”

Kelsie dipped a piece of chicken into a pile of ketchup and
poked her finger at the ketchup covering the tip of the food. “Sometimes Mommy burns it.” She licked her finger.

Startled, Sam couldn't help laughing.
“Is that so?” He grinned at Molly.

Molly covered her mouth and nose with her hands,
but her laughter bubbled out. “Kelsie's right. I'm not the greatest chef in the world.” She lowered her hands and she shook her head. “Hon, you're not supposed to tell people that.” The crinkle at the corners of her eyes gave her away.

“
But it's the truth.” Kelsie's brown eyes became saucers. “You always said to tell the truth.”

She turned the look on Sam, and he was sure the ice around his heart melted just a little bit.
Damn it
. He had to get out of here tomorrow. He averted his eyes and ate a potato wedge.

Molly voice sounded puzzled as she answered Kelsie.
“Yes, you're right. I do say that.”

There was an uneasy quiet, broken only by the sound of silverware clinking against the dishes.

“I'm full, Mommy. Can I go out and play with Gavin?”

“
Sure, hon. Put your plate in the sink first.”

The little girl skipped out the back door, and Sam stood, carrying his plate to the sink, and rinsed it.

“You don't have to do that.” Molly followed him to the sink, her own plate in hand.

Sam glanced over his shoulder, ignoring her comment and taking her plate from her, adding it to his own as he rinsed it.
“I can clean this up if you have something else you want to do.”

Molly quirked an eyebrow.
“Seriously? You don't mind doing dishes?” Her lips curved.

He gave a half-
shrug. “What else have I got to do?” The truth was, he was tired of sitting on the couch and felt horrible for causing extra work. He soaped up a sponge and scrubbed the plates, running them under the faucet to rinse them.

“
Okay. I'll take you up on the offer, but I'm going to clear the table first.”

“
Suit yourself.”

A few minutes later, she left
a small stack of dishes beside the sink and wiped off the table before heading outside.

Sam made short work of the rest of the dishes, saving the baking sheets for last. A few times, he heard Molly call to Kelsie. The little girl's laughter floated back to him, a slightly deeper laugh mingling with hers. A boyish belly laugh.

He pressed his fingers against the edge of the sink until the hand clutching his heart released its grip. When would it get easier? He grabbed a clean sponge and wet it before he scrubbed out his pain on Molly's counter tops.

“
Hey?” Molly touched his forearm. “You realize that the gray is the actual granite, right? It doesn't come off.”

Sam couldn't look at her.
“Sorry.”

Molly glanced at the counter, then took the sponge from him and tossed it in the sink.
“Sam, I realize I don't know you very well, but what's going on? I don't have to be a paramedic to see that you're hurting.”

Sam stared at the speckled gray stone but words and emotions tangled in his throat.

“What were you doing at that bar? You don't belong there any more than Kelsie would.”

Had his underco
ver skills always been so bad? Had everyone seen through his cover? Deep inside, he'd known that somehow it had been his fault. Now, Molly's observations confirmed it. “You're right. I didn't belong there.” He laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. “I don't belong anywhere.”

He wiped his hands on his jea
ns and yanked a chair out, half-falling as he sat. It was the most that he'd been on his bad leg, but he almost welcomed the pain as a distraction.

* * *

“Tell me about it.” Molly leaned her back against the counter, arms crossed, waiting. She knew his wounds bothered him, but that wasn't the reason for his pain. It went deeper. He was quiet for so long, she thought he would ignore her, but he closed his eyes as though gathering his thoughts.

He finally focused on her.
“For the last twelve years, I've worked for the ATF.”

Surprise mingled with satisfaction that she'd been right. He wasn't a thug like most of
Johnny's friends.

“
A year ago, I killed my son.”

Caught off guard
by the statement, Molly could only gape at him. She managed to close her mouth after a moment. Sam could not have killed his son. Not intentionally. She recalled the way his expression softened every time he looked at Kelsie. He was no child killer. “I don't believe you.”

He broke eye contact, a faraway look settling on his face.
“I'd been working undercover and infiltrated the motorcycle gang called the Ravens. I finally had enough evidence to prove that they were running arms and drugs. They had several legit businesses they used as fronts and to launder the money, but I obtained some documents and ledgers. I had a contact, and I was followed one day when I went to meet her.”

Molly
shifted, swallowing hard as she glanced out the window and spotted Kelsie and Gavin engrossed in hunting for grasshoppers. Good. That would keep them occupied for a while. This wasn’t a conversation her daughter should overhear. She slid onto the chair opposite Sam.

“
Nothing happened that day. I didn't know I'd been followed, but Sherry, my contact, was run off the road on her way back to the office.”

“
Oh my God!”

Sam waved a hand.
“She was okay, and we attributed it to a drunk. It wasn't until later we found out it was intentional.” He rubbed his eyes, bridging his nose before continuing, “I was deep undercover—hadn't seen my son for over a month. He was staying with my mom.”

Where was the boy's own mother?  At Molly's questioning look, Sam said,
“His mother was someone I knew from high school. At our ten year class reunion, we had a…a thing.” He blushed and if the subject hadn't been so serious, Molly would have smiled and teased him. “She didn't want to be married to someone in law enforcement. Later, I found out why.”

He shrugged, wincing slightly.
“After Sean was born, she tried to be a mom, but was more in love with meth.” He made a face. “See, my job would have been a major cramp in her style. Eventually, she agreed to grant me full custody.”

Molly had
seen the nasty effects of meth and it wasn't pretty. “Wise decision.”

Sam
's eyes blazed and he slapped his hand down on the table. “
No!
It was the worst damn decision she ever made. If she'd been a
decent
mother, she would have kept Sean. She would have kept him away from
me
.” He lurched to his feet and limped across the kitchen, stopping at the back door. He leaned a forearm on the doorway and stared out into the yard. “It would have stopped him from being killed because of my damn pride.”

A muscle in his jaw flexed and she felt dread churn her stomach.
She was sure it couldn't be his fault, but Molly didn’t want to ask—didn’t want to know what had happened. As a mother, she protected herself by saying bad things only happened to strangers. Sam was no longer a stranger and she was afraid to find out how Sean had died, as if the knowledge would rip apart the protective barrier she had built around her own daughter. But Molly couldn’t let it drop—not when Sam blamed himself. Swallowing hard, she asked, “What happened to Sean?”

It seemed to take effort for Sam to tear his gaze from the children playing. When he did, she
caught her breath at the depth of pain in his eyes.

“
The enforcer of the Ravens had my mother's house torched. She and Sean were trapped inside.”

She gasped, tears springing to her eyes.
“I'm so sorry, Sam.” There was nothing more she could say. It wasn’t his fault, but she could see how he might blame himself.

If he noticed the tears, he didn't give any indication, instead, he stabbed a han
d through his hair, making it stick out in a dozen different directions. “My mother died trying to save Sean. Their bodies were found by the back door.”

Mo
lly stood, needing to comfort him somehow. She moved behind him and tentatively touched his shoulder.

His muscles quivered and when she tried to catch his eye, he averted his face.
“Sam. Look at me.”

He ignored her.

“Listen, Sam, I missed the part where
you
killed your son. The way it sounds to me, some thug was responsible, not you.”

He shook her hand off and brushed past her. She only had a brief glimpse, but the setting sun reflected a tear streak on his face an instant before he lifted his arm and swiped his face alo
ng his shoulder.

She followed him as he moved into the living room.
“Hey, you didn't answer me.” He might hate her for pushing, but he had to say it aloud. He needed to acknowledge that it wasn't his fault. “Look, I barely know you, but I've seen the way you are around Kelsie, there's no way you're capable of knowingly doing anything that would have jeopardized your own son.”

He shot her a bitter smile as he began folding the sheets and blankets on the sofa.
“You're right; you don't know me. You have no idea what I'm capable of.”

Molly crossed her arms.
“You don't scare me.” The dark look he directed at her made her a liar.

He stalked towards her and it was all she could do to hold her ground.
“You must have some notion that I'm this honorable ATF agent, but you'd be dead wrong. When Sean died, I decided that playing by the rules was for suckers.” He reached for her and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her close. “For example, an honorable agent would never do this.”