Samson's Lovely Mortal
Page 66
“Anything else?” the voice from the speaker continued.
“Thanks, Gabriel.” Samson didn’t take his eyes off her as he disconnected the call.
Delilah glared at him, unable to speak for a few seconds. None of the guys dared say a word as if waiting for an outburst. She’d give them one.
“You had a background check done on me?” She tried to make her voice sound even in order not to show the pain she felt.
“Delilah, I’m sorry, I can explain.” Samson didn’t even bother denying her accusation. That confirmed it.
She shook her head. “I’ll save you the trouble. I’m leaving.” She spun on her heels and stormed out. Taking two stairs at a time, she headed to the second floor. Tears burned in her eyes, but she pushed them back. He wasn’t worth it. If he wanted to know something about her, he could have asked her. She would have told him everything, every little detail about her life.
But he hadn’t asked. Instead he’d checked up on her behind her back as if she was a criminal. After the wonderful night of passion they’d shared, he had felt the need to check up on her? What had he thought he would find?
***
After locking Billy up in one of the containers, but leaving him with water and a blanket, Ricky and Thomas left the warehouse. They weren’t savages. If Samson could treat the man who had attacked him and Delilah with civility, so could they.
“Did you catch what Samson said about her?” Ricky asked.
“You mean the speech about my woman?”
“Exactly. Do you think he meant it?”
Thomas shrugged his shoulders. “You tell me. When it comes to you straight guys, I really can’t tell when you’re into somebody or not. Too much hiding your feelings and crap.”
“Trust me, I can’t tell any more than you can. But I’ve never heard him talk like that. I hope she isn’t getting under his skin. Something like this can only end badly.”
Ricky took the helmet Thomas handed him and swung his leg over the motorcycle to take his place behind him.
“He should have left me my car and taken your motorcycle instead of us cramming onto it.”
“What, you’re worried because you have to hold onto me?” Thomas laughed. “Since when so homophobic?”
“I’m not; I’m worried about my car. He was ready to kill me today. I hope he’s not taking it out on my brand-new ride.”
Thomas jerked his head. “Kill you? What did you do to him?”
“I walked in on him while he was shagging Delilah in the shower.”
“You can’t be serious. That’s why he wanted to kill you?” Thomas’ reaction was not unusual. Among their kind, sex wasn’t necessarily always seen as a private act, unless it happened between a bonded pair. So there was no reason why Samson should get all bent out of shape about being seen fucking Delilah.
“That’s what I’m saying. He basically told me to kiss our friendship and my job goodbye if he ever saw me looking at her again.”
“Sounds pretty possessive to me.”
“Yep.”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Yep.”
“Oh boy.”
Ricky slung his arms around Thomas’ waist, and the motorcycle took off. It was still drizzling lightly. Thomas expertly guided them through light traffic. He knew the city like his back pocket and had a keen eye for spotting obstacles in advance, helping him avoid major delays easily.
They drove toward the Sunset district past the forties and fifties era homes, the often unkempt front yards, and the ticky-tacky shops on the way. It wasn’t a neighborhood either one of them liked particularly. It was mostly flat and architecturally uninteresting.
The address Billy had given them was a corner home, which looked larger than others on the block and appeared to have been completely renovated. It stuck out like the most expensive house on the block. There was light coming from several of the windows of the home.
Thomas parked his motorcycle around the corner.
“How do you want to play it?”
“Straightforward. We ring the doorbell,” Ricky replied.
Their footsteps made virtually no sound as they walked on the pavement. Thomas’ nostrils flared as they approached the house. He inhaled. A strangely familiar scent wafted into his nose, but he was distracted instantly when he heard a scream from inside the house.
He and Ricky stared at each other for a fraction of a second then ran to the front door and kicked it in.
The sound was that of a woman, hysterically screaming at the top of her lungs. It came from the back of the house. Then the whining of a toddler mingled with the woman’s screams. The sound of the woman was bloodcurdling.
“Thanks, Gabriel.” Samson didn’t take his eyes off her as he disconnected the call.
Delilah glared at him, unable to speak for a few seconds. None of the guys dared say a word as if waiting for an outburst. She’d give them one.
“You had a background check done on me?” She tried to make her voice sound even in order not to show the pain she felt.
“Delilah, I’m sorry, I can explain.” Samson didn’t even bother denying her accusation. That confirmed it.
She shook her head. “I’ll save you the trouble. I’m leaving.” She spun on her heels and stormed out. Taking two stairs at a time, she headed to the second floor. Tears burned in her eyes, but she pushed them back. He wasn’t worth it. If he wanted to know something about her, he could have asked her. She would have told him everything, every little detail about her life.
But he hadn’t asked. Instead he’d checked up on her behind her back as if she was a criminal. After the wonderful night of passion they’d shared, he had felt the need to check up on her? What had he thought he would find?
***
After locking Billy up in one of the containers, but leaving him with water and a blanket, Ricky and Thomas left the warehouse. They weren’t savages. If Samson could treat the man who had attacked him and Delilah with civility, so could they.
“Did you catch what Samson said about her?” Ricky asked.
“You mean the speech about my woman?”
“Exactly. Do you think he meant it?”
Thomas shrugged his shoulders. “You tell me. When it comes to you straight guys, I really can’t tell when you’re into somebody or not. Too much hiding your feelings and crap.”
“Trust me, I can’t tell any more than you can. But I’ve never heard him talk like that. I hope she isn’t getting under his skin. Something like this can only end badly.”
Ricky took the helmet Thomas handed him and swung his leg over the motorcycle to take his place behind him.
“He should have left me my car and taken your motorcycle instead of us cramming onto it.”
“What, you’re worried because you have to hold onto me?” Thomas laughed. “Since when so homophobic?”
“I’m not; I’m worried about my car. He was ready to kill me today. I hope he’s not taking it out on my brand-new ride.”
Thomas jerked his head. “Kill you? What did you do to him?”
“I walked in on him while he was shagging Delilah in the shower.”
“You can’t be serious. That’s why he wanted to kill you?” Thomas’ reaction was not unusual. Among their kind, sex wasn’t necessarily always seen as a private act, unless it happened between a bonded pair. So there was no reason why Samson should get all bent out of shape about being seen fucking Delilah.
“That’s what I’m saying. He basically told me to kiss our friendship and my job goodbye if he ever saw me looking at her again.”
“Sounds pretty possessive to me.”
“Yep.”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Yep.”
“Oh boy.”
Ricky slung his arms around Thomas’ waist, and the motorcycle took off. It was still drizzling lightly. Thomas expertly guided them through light traffic. He knew the city like his back pocket and had a keen eye for spotting obstacles in advance, helping him avoid major delays easily.
They drove toward the Sunset district past the forties and fifties era homes, the often unkempt front yards, and the ticky-tacky shops on the way. It wasn’t a neighborhood either one of them liked particularly. It was mostly flat and architecturally uninteresting.
The address Billy had given them was a corner home, which looked larger than others on the block and appeared to have been completely renovated. It stuck out like the most expensive house on the block. There was light coming from several of the windows of the home.
Thomas parked his motorcycle around the corner.
“How do you want to play it?”
“Straightforward. We ring the doorbell,” Ricky replied.
Their footsteps made virtually no sound as they walked on the pavement. Thomas’ nostrils flared as they approached the house. He inhaled. A strangely familiar scent wafted into his nose, but he was distracted instantly when he heard a scream from inside the house.
He and Ricky stared at each other for a fraction of a second then ran to the front door and kicked it in.
The sound was that of a woman, hysterically screaming at the top of her lungs. It came from the back of the house. Then the whining of a toddler mingled with the woman’s screams. The sound of the woman was bloodcurdling.
