Page 62 of Samson

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I love having you here, but I’ve got a lot going on. I don’t need someone lecturing me. I need a friend.”

“Hey, I am your friend. That’s why I’m worried about you. I’m trying to look out for you. After what I had to go through, I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“I’ll be fine. I can look after myself.” He stood. “Let’s get some sleep. Everything will look better in the morning.”

After Luca left, she trudged to her bedroom and flopped on the bed. She couldn’t get anything right anymore. She’d been turned around in so many directions, she couldn’t work out which way was up anymore. The only good thing about the day was Samson, and she’d just betrayed him to help her cousin, who didn’t want her input in his life.

She brought up Samson’s number. Somehow he’d convinced her to save it in her phone before he let her out of his car.

She wanted to text him to tell him what she’d done, but the ramifications of that were too much for her to handle tonight. He knew how to handle himself. Surely he’d find a way to defendhimself against knives. Or maybe Marc was really telling the truth, and they weren’t going to hurt him.

She started typing out a text telling him to be careful but deleted it. She’d have to wait it out. There was nothing she could say that wouldn’t make him suspicious of her, and the last thing she wanted was for him to think she’d turned on him.

She stared up at the ceiling. Was there nothing she could do?

“God?” Her voice was flat and strange in the silence.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d said His name. As a child, she’d believed that there was a creator of some kind. In fact, she could remember being sure of it. But life had changed that, and religion had become the last thing on her mind. Until, oddly, now.

“God, if you’re real, which…I’m not really sure, but if you are and Samson matters at all to you, can you look after him? I’d hate for him to get hurt because of me.” Praying felt like a cheap way out of guilt. Was it her way of allowing herself to be a coward? Or was there really help out there that she couldn’t see or understand?

But she’d been hurt by too much. If God was real, why had nothing gone right?

She grabbed her pillow and hugged it to her chest, pressing against the emptiness as she fell asleep.

Chapter 14

Samson walkedinto the empty Japanese restaurant and looked around. A small Japanese man with a straight, long beard came from the back, flanked by two larger men.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Vartan,” the man said, bowing.

Samson bowed back. “I was intrigued by your proposal, Ito-san, but I need you to know up front, I’m not a bodyguard.”

“As you can see,” Ito said, “a bodyguard is not what I require.”

“Then I’m all ears.”

“If you wouldn’t mind handing over any weapons. I can’t take too many precautions.”

“Of course.” Samson unbuttoned his suit jacket and pulled his gun from his side. One of the bodyguards took it while the other patted him down.

“I’ll return your weapon when we’ve finished here.”

“No problem.”

“Now, before we talk business, let’s drink.” He led Samson to a table, where they sat. Then he raised his hand. A waiter came over, setting two small cups and a bottle ofsakeon the table.

Ito lifted the bottle with two hands. “A toast.”

Samson held his cup while Ito poured, then nodded his head. “Kanpai.”

The two men sipped; then Samson set his cup on the table. “Now to business.”

“Do you have somewhere you need to be?”

“No.”

“Then why hurry?” Ito smiled and took another sip. “Drink. Please.”

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