Page 27 of Operation: Integrity

Because she’d expected him to rescue her without asking. He was supposed to be the knight in shining armor and the princess shouldn’t have to tell him she was in danger. The knight was supposed to foresee anything and everything. But this wasn’t a fairytale. It was a nightmare, and the rules of fairytales didn’t apply.

“I’m sorry.” She wept, reaching for him, surprised thathe allowed her to cling to him. Wasn’t that against one of the rules Connor had briefly mentioned?

“For what?” Sam asked.

She couldn’t answer that. The tears came and came until she couldn’t breathe with the force of the sobs. It was like her body was catching up for lost time. Fear for Jasmine’s life only added to the spring that wouldn’t let up.

After a few minutes, though she couldn’t say how many, Sam fished a handkerchief out of his back pocket. He didn’t let her go as he handed it to her. “I know it’s silly and old-fashioned, but you’d be surprised how often we need these around here. So, I always keep one.”

Why did Sam care? He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be offering her anything to catch her tears or a shoulder to cry on. He shouldn’t be there at all. He’d walked away from her. Listening to her now would only entangle him in the same mess as before. She knew better now. Sam wasn’t going torescueher from the inevitable, he would be trapped by it.

She swallowed her tears and handed him back the red bandana. “You need to go.”

“What?” His dark brows dove downward in confusion. He was so sweetly handsome, and she knew his nature wanted truth and justice. There would never be justice for what she’d been through. She would never see Nathan in prison. He wouldn’t pay.

“I said you need to go. It isn’t right for you to be here.”

He slid back from her, but his face didn’t change. He obviously was confused, but still wanted to show her care. Drat him, why couldn’t he just leave her to fend for herself?

“Connor is moving you into one of the family cabins.You’ll be staying with me. There are two rooms, so you’ll have your own space, but he doesn’t want you to be alone.”

It was her turn to let shock flow down her spine. “What? I can’t . . .” If she did, she wouldn’t be able to meet with Nathan. One more mistake and Jasmine would die if she wasn’t dead already. “I don’t want to.”

Sam didn’t quite hide his flinch. “I told him it wasn’t a good idea and even offered Edwyn instead of me, but his decision was final. I’m sorry.”

Edwyn? That would be even worse. Edwyn had managed to be understanding of her peculiarities for all of ten minutes. If she had to live with him, she’d pitch a tent in the barn and stay there. “Edwyn would be worse.”

Sam stood and turned his back to her as he headed for the door. “I know you’re keeping secrets from us, and I know that he’s one of them. It’s okay. I get it. Connor won’t let that go any further, but secrets just don’t keep around here.”

Secrets about Edwyn? What did he think she’d done? It was like living the past all over again.

In some ways,time had stopped when he’d given up on Kelly. He’d shut down any plans to ever let anyone that close to him again. So, his heart had closed a door that he hadn’t had any intention to open. Sam headed for his bedroom and pulled a boot box off the top shelf of his closet.

Blowing off the years of collected dust, he paused. Just like life, he had to let the dust settle before he tackled anything else. In years past, he would’ve called his dad orsomeone he trusted to help him through the problem, but everyone he trusted now was too close to the issue. They were all at Wayside.

“Nothing will happen until I make it happen.” He set the heavy box on his bedside table and took off the lid, then tossed it on the floor. More dust puffed into the air as it hit the rug. That’s what vacuums were for.

Right on top were the letters he’d gotten from Kelly, wrapped lovingly in twine like a gift. He’d treasured every note back then. No one wrote personal things like that anymore. Kelly had always hated phones, hated television, so a written note was how she showed she cared. She’d barely listened to the radio, preferring to talk to people face-to-face. He set the bundle of notes and letters to the side.

Right under those was a stack of pictures. His appearance hadn’t changed much between when they’d been taken and now. At least, he didn’t think he had. Maybe a few more lines around his eyes, but other than that he was the same old Sam. Kelly, on the other hand, had changed drastically. She was thinner and had worry lines around her eyes. Where she used to have almost a perpetual sunshiny smile, she rarely let her mouth get anywhere close to making one now.

He slowly flipped through the images, taking the time to remember those moments. He hadn’t let himself do that sincethat day. As he slid one picture to the back, he found one he’d forgotten about. It was a picture he’d taken at a party shortly before he’d found her cheating on him. Nathan was talking to her. He hadn’t recognized him since he’d never actually met him at that party. He’d wanted the picture of her. No wonder why she hadn’t wanted a copy of that one.

He tapped the picture, really taking a look at her face. She didn’t want to be talking with him. She had a smile on her face, but he could see that it was plastered in place, not genuine.

“What were you doing at a party with us, Nathan? How long did you know Kelly before I found her?” He set the picture aside and focused on the few other pictures from that party, but all the others were taken with mutual friends that he could recall. If he hadn’t taken that picture, he wouldn’t have ever had proof Kelly had known Nathan before.

Which meant Brendon could be right. She may have been tricked or coerced into a life of prostitution before Sam knew anything was wrong. It still begged the question, why didn’t she ask him for help? Was she ashamed? Worried that he would walk away from her because she wasn’t pure as the freshly fallen snow? He had walked away from her, but would he have done the same thing if he’d known why?

He set one of his favorite pictures against his bedside lamp. When the light shone down on it, brightening the picture and making Kelly’s smile radiant, he wanted the old Kelly back. If he hadn’t walked away, would she still be there? Her life would’ve been better if he would’ve busted into that house and asked her what was going on. But he hadn’t. Just like with Edwyn, he’d assumed the worst. Not only of her, but of himself. He’d assumed he wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t exciting enough to keep the attention of such a beautiful, vivacious woman.

So, which was the truth? One could ask about the chicken or the egg, but a religious scholar would tell you it was the chicken, as God didn’t create a world of babies, but fully grown animals. Science might have another view,but he didn’t much care about science at the moment. He cared about what he’d done. The Kelly he knew could easily find herself in over her head because she was trusting of people and loved to be with them. She always assumed that they felt the same way about her, which had led to hurt while they’d been dating. He’d have to remind her that he thought she was amazing, but she’d always said he was biased.

He set the stack of pictures aside and found various ribbons from gifts given, a little paper heart Kelly had made for him for Valentine’s one year, and a ring made from wax that she’d melted and molded to be his size. He’d worked really hard, so wearing a metal band had scared him a little. A friend of his had lost a finger while putting in fencing when he was a teen. Since then, Sam had been worried about wearing rings. Kelly had understood. He’d never planned to wear the wax ring as a wedding band, but he’d gladly worn it while they were dating. He slipped it from the bottom of the box and put it on his finger. It still fit perfectly.

If he was already this sentimental about all of Kelly’s old things, how was he ever going to live with her? Even though she didn’t want to, Connor would have the final say. She wasn’t safe alone. Not with the messages that had come through. He’d read the string of texts Dominic had hacked into and they made him sick. Nathan should be in prison. If Sam could find a way to put him there, he would.

He couldn’t remember exactly when that party was, if it was months before that fateful day or merely days, but he’d thought it was longer. Memory was fickle though, and he hadn’t bothered to think about any of it for so long.

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