The Damsel Wore White

By WritePassion

After giving Yvette the necklace that he bought in Rio while on a mission, things changed between her and Sam. He got his first clue when he woke the next morning to the scent of eggs frying in a skillet and fresh coffee brewing. This was dangerous, having her stay with him until she felt comfortable going back to her own place. Roche was in jail and there was no way he was getting out for quite some time. There was no reason for her to be afraid. So as he prepared himself for the day, Sam decided he had to be the tough guy, but gently push her toward leaving.

"Morning, Sam," Yvette greeted him with a smile as bright as the sun coming through the window.

"Morning, Yvette," he replied as he took in the little scene in his kitchen. The table was set and she even had fresh flowers in a glass jar. God only knew where she found those this early in the morning! As he surveyed everything, a chill ran up his spine. He remembered a time long ago when he found himself entrenched in what on the surface looked like domestic bliss, but was in fact a cage that kept him confined. His only escape was going on missions, which in the end drove Amanda away, into the arms of his best friend. The memory touched a chord in him, and he turned away.

"Sam, is everything okay?" She followed him down the hall to his bedroom and watched as he methodically picked up his wallet, phone, keys, and spare change from the night stand and stuffed them into his pockets. "Sam, please talk to me!"

"It's nothing, Am...I mean, Yvette."

Yvette took a step back and stared at him. "Who..."

"It doesn't matter. It's just a part of my past that's better left there, that's all." He shook his head, wishing he hadn't misspoken. "I...I've gotta go meet Michael and Fi at Carlito's. I'll, uh, see you tonight?" He turned and saw the pained expression on her face and immediately regretted being so cold. He took a step and closed the distance between them, and the fact that she met him half way helped to ease his troubled conscience. He took her in his arms and rested his chin on the top of her head as she burrowed into him. "I'm sorry. I...I just don't think this...living together..."

To his surprise, she nodded and looked up at him. "I understand. You don't have feelings for me like I do for you, so this is uncomfortable. I get it." She looked up at him, and in her eyes he saw her struggle to keep the hurt inside. "Will you take me back to my apartment this morning? I don't have to be to work until 10."

"Sure." He gave her a smile, knowing it was hardly enough to console her. "After breakfast?"

"Sounds good." She reached up on tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek, turned out of his arms and hurried to the kitchen to finish making breakfast.

His fingers grazed the spot she kissed. That was the most action he'd had in the bedroom in awhile, but it was definitely the most chaste. He had to wonder about her and her past. Yvette never mentioned a man in her life, ever. When she was young, her family came from Wales and was taken in by the Roche family as servants. However, their employment wasn't at-will. They were being held as slaves because of a debt gone bad, and the Roches held the note. When Yvette was old enough, Frederick Roche brought her to Florida to assist his wife Romana on their yacht. The girl grew up seeing the world, but she could never be free as long as she was under Roche's thumb.

All that changed when Roche had his wife murdered, and Yvette was the sole witness still alive. She barely escaped with her life and nearly lost it in the Atlantic. Only Sam's decision to go fishing that morning saved her, and their lives were intertwined in a way that wasn't entirely comfortable. It wasn't her. It was all him. He had trouble with commitment, plain and simple, and Yvette was too sweet and innocent to fall victim to the mess that was his life. Somewhere was the one woman he bound his life to forever, and forever regretted it afterwards. They never bothered to sever the ties, and now it seemed irrational. Sam needed to find Amanda and end their marriage once and for all. Then maybe he wouldn't feel so guilty about letting Yvette into his heart.

"Sam? Are you coming out here, or what? Everything's ready!"

"Yeah. I'll be right there." He made a mental note to call his buddy in Houston and find out what he knew about Amanda's whereabouts. If that didn't pan out, he'd use his other sources to find her. Then he would contact her and get it over with. He'd been kidding himself if he thought that simply forgetting about it would make the problem go away. And usually that was just not in his nature. Time to take out the trash of his past, clean house, and start fresh.

After breakfast, Sam noticed that Yvette was eager to pack up and go, so he said, "I'll take care of this stuff. You just...get yourself together."

"Okay. It won't take long, I promise."

He picked up the dishes, carried them to the sink, and set them in a bath of soapy water to soak. He would deal with them later when he returned to the apartment. He understood that his reaction hurt her, and it grated on him. If he was clueless about anything, it was how to deal with a fragile heart. For a moment he considered calling Fiona while Yvette packed, but he didn't need that Irish temper flaring up at him. That wouldn't help matters. He was surprised how little time it took her to pack, but then she was only there for one night. One night too many. He would be kicking himself for this for a long time to come.

The ride to the apartment was too quiet, so Sam drove with the window down just for some background noise. Yvette let out a small relieved breath as they arrived, and she got out before he could be a gentleman and open her door. He watched her slam the door, trying to figure out her silence and haste, and met her at the back of the car while he popped the trunk. They both reached for her suitcase at the same time. She gave him a placating smile and said, "I can take my stuff up alone, thanks." She grabbed her suitcase, but Sam pulled her other bag out of the trunk, and without another word she grabbed it and headed for the building.

"So much for letting her down easy," he muttered as she disappeared inside. He was about to slam the trunk lid when he spotted a movement in his peripheral vision. Carefully, he scanned the area around him, searching for...he had no idea what. All he knew was that something was not right. Movement in a black SUV in the parking lot, half hidden by two shade trees, got his attention. He peered at the vehicle and noticed that one of the two men spoke into a walkie-talkie. The fine hairs on the back of Sam's neck prickled as his instincts kicked in. In one fluid movement, he reached into the trunk, pulled out a semi-automatic handgun from a side pocket, and slammed the trunk lid as he tucked the gun into the back of his waistband and let his shirt drop over it.

He hurried up the walkway to the building, knowing full well that his actions would spook the occupants of the SUV and make them hesitate. But if they had a crew inside, Sam was taking a chance that they had already been alerted that he was on the way. As he hit the stairs running to his destination on the fifth floor, he looked up between the staircases. Footsteps were coming, and suddenly, a woman he knew had to be Yvette screamed. A head appeared, and Sam recognized that it was one of Roche's men who had promised to turn state's evidence in exchange for freedom. He didn't waver as he took a shot at Sam, who was at a disadvantage, because he had no idea where Yvette was. He didn't want to shoot and accidentally hit her. The footsteps, instead of approaching as he expected, headed in the opposite direction. He followed. With every landing, he was thankful that he'd gotten himself in shape or he would be a vulnerable, heaving mess when he reached the rooftop.

Sam stopped at the door and waited, but he heard nothing. There was no way they could have found another way out, so he pushed the door open with one hand while he stayed out of the direct line of fire. Someone out there was determined to kill him, because they opened up the rest of their clip on the door. When he heard an ineffective click, Sam popped into the doorway with his gun drawn on the would-be assailant. The man stood near the parapet, and as Sam took one step forward, he took one back. Yvette was turning red, and Sam knew by the way the man had his arm locked around her throat, it was only a matter of seconds before she would pass out. Then she would fall, and he might have a clear shot.

"Put the girl down," Sam called across the open space.

"Oh yeah, I'll put her down alright," the captor answered with a sneer and twisted Yvette so her body ran into the short wall around the roof, and she doubled over. Her hands gripped the worn concrete, saving herself from a fatal fall.

"Yvette!" Sam took a step and a flash of movement came from his left. He threw out his arm and dropped the guy with a chop to the larynx. He returned his attention to Yvette and the leader, who had her back in his grip.

"You...and your friends think you're so smart. You really thought we were gonna just rat on our boss? This is bigger than just some rich dead wife. You have no idea, and you're never gonna know, because the only people getting out of this alive are me and the boys."

Sam suddenly found himself face down in the loose roofing gravel as a third man pounced and pinned him down with a gun pressed into the back of his skull. Yvette's screams were useless now. He might as well just loosen up and hope he could take the guy by surprise. He heard cold, bitter laughter and stole a glance up at the leader. The guy kind of reminded him of Sugar, Michael's old drug dealing neighbor, except Sugar turned out to have some heart. This guy must have had a big empty space in his chest where his heart should have been.

"So what are we gonna do with these two?"

"Mr. Roche wanted us to end this thing the way it should have ended months ago."

Sam heard the unmistakable ripping sound of duct tape being pulled off a roll. His captor grinned as one of the guys from the SUV began to bind up his hands. He glanced up at Yvette, and she was getting the same treatment. Terror colored her eyes a violet blue, and she screamed again, but the leader backhanded her and she crumbled to the rooftop. Her hair fell in front of her face, so he couldn't get her attention. They taped her mouth shut and didn't care if a few tendrils got stuck into the makeshift gag.

"Get up!" Someone hauled Sam to his feet with enough force to cause his shoulder to pop. The pain nearly caused him to drop to his knees, but he endured it. He had no choice. If he showed any sign of weakness, their captors would have complete control. It was best to keep his pain hidden and bide his time, continuously searching for an opportunity to escape.

Since it was the middle of the morning and few people were about, their captors easily got Sam and Yvette downstairs and into the waiting SUV without anyone seeing that something was odd about their little group. They were both thrown into the back without benefit of seat belts, and there was no chance anyone would see them because the windows were heavily tinted. They lay on their sides, facing each other, with their knees touching and Yvette's head against his chest. The driver hit a bump and the landing irritated Sam's sore shoulder. Yvette's eyes widened and conveyed her concern. He shook his head, trying to tell her he was okay. It seemed as if the aim of this kidnapping was more than a double murder. They wanted to torture their victims a little before ending it. Sam lost track of time as they drove around and took a lot of turns. A couple of times the men stopped and got out to confer before taking to the road again. He had no idea if they were still in the city, up the coast, or for all he knew, they could be heading for one of the Keys.

The SUV swung in a wide arc and stopped. The doors slammed. Sam prepared himself to take an offensive posture, and as the hatch swung upward, he lashed out with both feet at the man who stood in the way. The captor screamed as his knee bent backwards, and he dropped like a bag of lead. Sharp pains assaulted Sam's shoulder as he used it to force himself into an upright position. Unfortunately, there were too many other of Roche's men to get the jump on him. They pulled him out of the vehicle and before he could try anything, he was knocked unconscious.