Shattered Illusions - Part 3 - Jack/Samantha Fanfiction
Title: Shattered Illusions
Author: M. Elizabeth Ravensblood
Rating: NC-17, language, violence, sexuality
Warning: Non-Con between Jack/Samantha and very graphic violence
Pairing: Jack/Samantha
Summary: For two years, Sam has been dating Albert Newquay, unaware of his true identity she pines for a man she thinks doesn't really exist. A spurned proposal leads to violence and a romantic evening turns into something dark and ugly. Post Season 3, Jack never showed up and Lucas killed himself.
Author's Notes: This is for my lovely friend moonvoice who had been craving some Jack/Samantha non-con. I tried very hard to write something that has a lot of psychological complexity and that could take the characters to a very dark place without making them unredeemable. The result was a very long and dark tale that is probably my darkest piece to date. The rape in this story is very graphic and as realistic as possible - it is about violence and not about sex. I tried very hard to capture the mixed feelings of love and hate a woman feels when someone she loves betrays her in the worst way possible.
This is the final installment of Shattered Illusions. Previous Parts: Part 1 & Part 2
Neither spoke on the way to the hospital and Samantha felt strange sitting next to Jack in the small space with the deafening silence. Normally when they went somewhere, if they didn't take the limo, Jack would drive and he would hold her hand with his free hand. Jack was slumped against the passenger window, staring out blankly. He hadn't just hurt her tonight, he'd himself as well. She didn't know what they would do after tonight. Could she ever trust him again? Was it possible to really ever forgive what he'd done to her? Even if she was able to forgive him, would Jack ever forgive himself? Samantha wondered, casting a glance at him. And then there was that tiny matter of having committed murder earlier.
Sam tried to must some guilt over Matthews death but felt nothing. He was nice enough when she'd talked to him over the past few months since Albert or rather Jack had hired him and he'd meant well when he'd wanted to call the police. It was unfortunate but she felt little more about it. Although she wanted to ask Jack about it and talk to him about it, she knew it wasn't the right time for it. Focusing her attention on the road, she hoped that there would be minimal police involvement. After what happened she didn't want to face Bailey. It would be difficult to lie to him after the night she'd had, Samantha decided as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
They finally arrived at the hospital. After finding a parking space in the emergency lot, she pulled the tuxedo jacket tightly around her and got out. Jack got out and started to stagger towards the entrance. She moved quickly and caught him as he was about to fall. Although he tried to pull away from her, she helped him the rest of the way into the emergency room entrance.
At the desk, the clerk drawled disinterestedly, "Can I help you?"
Samantha raised Jack's hand with the rose stabbed through it and the woman was suddenly on the phone and a moment later they were being swept into the inner sanctum. Questions were being fired at them both in rapid succession. She answered as she'd planned but felt nervous as she waited for Jack to corroborate. True to his word, he stuck to the story she'd told him to stick to. When she heard one of the doctors mutter to a nurse about the police, she mentally swore. It was expected but unwanted. Her hand was worked on and bandaged in quick order. Jack they were having to carefully assess and hadn't started on yet.
He was laid out on a table with a brace holding up each arm. One team was getting ready to work on the hand with glass in it and another the rose.
"Perhaps you'd better wait outside," a nurse suggested. "There's a gentleman and a lady from the police department who need to talk to you." She glared at Jack and added, "Alone."
"I'm not leaving Ja- Albert alone. Once they're done with him, I'll answer any questions Atlanta's finest have to ask."
"We'll see," the nurse replied and disappeared.
Samantha felt a wave of rage wash over her. Although she'd known she'd have to talk to the police, she didn't want to. It had been hard enough telling the lies to the emergency room staff. Lying about the evening and saying Jack hadn't hurt her and that he hadn't raped her while enduring the pseudo sympathetic looks and ginger encouragement of a pair of cops would be miserable. She would do it to save Jack but every bit of hate blazed through her anew as she considered what she was about to have to endure. He'd victimized her and now she would have to endure an interrogation, albeit a gentle one.
"Okay, Albert," one of the doctors said. "We're going to start working on you. When we're done we're going to give you some Darvocet. It will help with the pain. It might make you a little sleepy-"
"I don't need any any."
"You may change you mind in a bit But what I can do is give you some local anesthetic, that will-"
"No," Sam interjected. Her hand was numb from a local anesthetic and she had pain pills in her purse that would knock her out later. But it would be hours before she could take them and it did nothing to take away the stinging between her legs from Jack's assault which added to her anger. Hurting physically and emotionally, she wanted him to hurt. Standing at the end of the bed, she met his gaze and said, "He doesn't want any. Do you Albert?"
A ghost of a smile crossed his lips and he agreed, "My Samantha is quite right."
"But Sir! We need you to stay very still," a young intern chimed in.
"I'll be fine. Please go ahead."
The doctor didn't look happy; but he couldn't force medication on a patient either. Samantha hovered near the end of the bed and watched as the staff began working on Jack's hands. Glass was cleared away from one hand and they hovered nervously over the hand with the rose. As slivers of glass were removed, blood seemed to well up unendingly. At first his winces and gasps made her feel happy. But as they started stitching and he turned pale and bit his lower lip, she started to feel guilty. The one hand was nearly finished and they'd started a blood transfusion. It was the most blood she'd ever seen in her life outside of a crime scene. Normally the sight of blood didn't bother her, but seeing so much blood from Jack as he lay in front of her made her feel dizzy.
"Now Albert, we've got the stem cut so it's been narrowed down and we've removed the thorns. We're going to have pull it out. I need you to stay, really still for me. We need to try to pull it out in one piece. It will do less damage that way."
Jack agreed and closed his his eyes. The doctor maneuvered his hand around the stem just under the blossom carefully. Samantha's heart was racing. She wanted them to stop and to give him medication. Why had she said no? The hand with the glass cuts had been far worse than hers. And the rose?! It was unimaginable. Just as she was about to tell them to stop and give him medication, the doctor pulled the rose out. Jack cried out and his eyes went wide before he mercifully passed out. A moment later, Sam collapsed on the floor in a faint.
Several minutes later she came too on a table nearby. Although a nurse urged her to rest, Samantha got up and walked over to where Jack was. He was still unconscious and she felt relieved.
"We're going to keep him overnight for observation," the doctor told her.
"Have you given him anything for the pain?"
"You mean he might want something for it?" the doctor muttered under his breath giving her a disdainful look. Resuming his professional demeanor he said, "Yes. While he was unconscious, I had them start him on a morphine drip and we're going to start him Cipro for a week to prevent infection."
Distraught and on the verge of tears, she asked, "He's going to be okay, isn't he? I mean- Ja- Albert will have full use of his hand?"
"He'll be fine," the doctor told her. His voice was a bit gentler than before, he assured her, "He'll need some help around the house for a few days when he's released but otherwise, he should be good as new in a couple of weeks."
Sam thanked the doctor and let the nurse lead her to the officers who were impatiently waiting. They seemed skeptical when she gave her account of the evening and insisted on sending officers into the mansion. She felt nervous as they walked through the bedroom, but they after a few minutes of poking around they seemed to accept the evidence. After a final look through the room and asking her once more if everything had indeed been consensual and if she was all right, they left. They hadn't even looked at the bathroom and they didn't poke around the closet and find Jack's secret room. Jack was safe, she realized with a sigh of relief.
Now what to do? She didn't want to go home. If Angel saw her like this, she would ask questions and have Bailey over within minutes. Looking around the room, she felt a wave of nausea and sank to the floor. Her uninjured hand brushed against something and Samantha looked down. It partially buried under the rose petals was the black velvet box Jack had tried to present her with earlier in the evening. She'd never given him the chance to show her what was inside. Curious, she opened the box and looked inside. Samantha wasn't sure what she'd expected to see, but she was taken aback by the sight.
On a bed of black velvet shining up at her was an asscher cut diamond. It was probably two carats, give or take a bit, a bit on the modest size for Jack's wealth but it was flawless and caught the dim light of the bedroom and sparkled. The silvery setting was platinum and from the looks it was an antique. Gingerly, she took it out for a closer look. Ornate and beautifully executed, the setting had a rose carved into either side, it was his way as Albert to subtly claim her as Jack. Her heart constricted as she looked at it, the ring was breathtaking. Not that it should surprise her both Jack and Albert did everything on a grand scale that made a girl's heart race.
Turning the ring around to look at it, she saw it was engraved. Inside was etched with a single word. Mine.
His. She could have been his. And for a time she had been his. Or at least Albert's. But then if she were honest with herself, she'd always belonged to Jack, that was why she'd spurned Albert. Mine. Possessive and indelible. The inscription was pure Jack. Looking at her bandaged left hand, it was swathed almost entirely in gauze, save her ring finger. Chiding herself, even as she was doing it, Samantha slid the ring onto her finger. She held her hand out and looked at the ring. It sparkled enticingly and seemed to nestle comfortably on her finger.
A lump of emotion formed in her throat and she started to pull the ring off. Snug around her finger, the shining circle wouldn't budge. Samantha tugged in vain. The irony of it hit her and she began to laugh loudly, then broke into sobs.
Samantha cried until she didn't have any tears left and her eyes ached. Emotionally and physically drained she felt raw from one end to the other. Standing up, she went into the bathroom and rinsed the tub carefully in case there was any broken glass that had landed inside. After she was sure it was safe, she drew a bath and immersed herself in the water. There was a sharp pain between her legs as her bruised sex made contact with the water, then it abated slightly. Lying back in the tub she'd often shared with Albert, she thought about Jack and wondered if he was in as much pain.
At the start of his treatment, she'd wanted him to hurt. Sam had proposed no local anesthetic as a way of testing his devotion and to get back at him. He'd hurt her and she'd wanted him to hurt to. Except when she'd realized how much agony he was in, she hadn't felt any joy, she'd felt sick. It was different but in a way it mirrored what Jack had done to her earlier. He hadn't raped her because of desire, it had been anger and hatred. He'd wanted to make her hurt and she'd done the same thing to him at the emergency room. It was entirely different and yet their was some similarity.
Nothing would ever change that Jack had raped her; but she could understand the blind fury he felt when he did it. And as the echo of his scream rang in her ears and a wave of nausea washed over her, she could understand how sickened he was by his own actions. She didn't feel suicidal and the two acts were impossible to compare and truly call even, but in a sense she'd held a mirror up and seen what was behind Jack's betrayal. Her own betrayal weighed on her heavily and filled her with regret. Matthews death had barely given her pause, but hurting Jack had touched her deeply.
When her fingers were starting to prune, she got out of the tub and tried to avoid looking at the mirror. She didn't want to look at the ugly reminders of what had happened earlier. After drying herself off, she went into Jack's closet to the small section that was hers for when she stayed over. Everything was either too formal or too sexy. Finally she settled for putting on a pair of silk pajamas she'd given him at Christmas. Sweeping some of the rose petals off the bed, the ring glinted at her accusingly. Sam climbed into bed and fell into an uneasy sleep.
******************************
In the morning, she woke up as the sun was coming up. Samantha hadn't slept for long and she still felt exhausted, but she wanted to get to the hospital and see how Jack was. Between her thighs the flesh was tender but not quite as bad as it had been the previous night. As she dressed, she made a mental note to try and soak in the tub again later. She opted for an old fashioned looking long sleeved peplum suit in pale blue that came below her knees that he'd gifted her with a few weeks before. The modest and feminine cut had seemed strange from Albert but seemed totally fitting for Jack's romantic sensibilities. She tried once more to remove the ring but it was still stuck and her finger looked slightly swollen.
Maybe she could hide her hand from him, Samantha thought as she headed downstairs. On her way out, the housekeeper intercepted her about Matthews and Sam told her that she hadn't seen him since the previous evening and then gave an edited version of Jack's injuries. She told the woman that Albert had gotten cut on a broken glass and had to go to the hospital, omitting how it had happened. The housekeeper was distraught over her employer and quickly forgot the errant butler. Sam made a mental note to ask Jack about how to handle Matthews termination of employment before requesting the driver bring the car around.
Her hand was throbbing and she didn't feel like driving. Once she was ensconced in the back of the limousine and she'd called the hospital to ascertain what room Jack was in, she called Angel.
"Why weren't you answering your cell?! I've been worried sick!" Angel shouted at Sam through the phone.
"I never answer my cell when I'm with Albert. You know that," Samantha replied.
"Bailey came here this morning looking for you. He said there was some sort of an accident and that Albert might have tried to hurt you."
"Albert didn't hurt me. Where's Bailey now?"
"On his way to the mansion looking for you. Sam what happened? What's-"
Sam cut her off, "Sorry, Angel. I gotta go. Call you later."
Hanging up before her friend could protest, she punched in Bailey's number and crossed her fingers he would pick up.
"Sam! I've been worried sick! A friend of mine at Atlanta PD said there's been a domestic disturbance at your boyfriend's place. He said there were no charges being filed. Sammy, if that rich bastard-"
"No! Bailey, it's not like that!"
The voice on the other end argued, "You can tell me that in person, I'm on my way."
"I'm in the limo on my way to see Albert at the hospital. He got a nasty cut-"
"From a rose?! Sam, I can meet you at the hospital in the lobby. We'll talk there."
Damn it! Samantha mentally swore and said, "Fine. I'll see you there."
Sitting back in her seat, she tried to think of what to do. Opening her purse she removed her makeup and started applying it. She took care to erase the dark circles under her eyes and add blush to her cheeks. Then she took a brush and a few pins from her bag and styled her hair in an elegant updo. Grimly she looked inside her wallet and took out her credit card. She had a part to play and if she was going to play it to the hilt, she needed to look the part. Lowering the window to speak to the driver, she told him to stop at a plaza of upscale stores that were en route to the hospital.
Samantha dashed into a jewelers and selected an ostentatious sapphire and diamond pin that she put on her card and pinned to her suit. Another stop wielded a wide brimmed pale blue hat to match with white ostrich feathers trimming it. She was about to leave when a display in the window of a designer vintage shop caught her eyes. Ducking inside, she emerged moments later with a long white fox fur coat with a pale silky blue lining. Although she didn't care much for fur, she wouldn't need it for long and she assuaged her guilt with the fact it was vintage rather than new.
Back in the limousine, she put her new hat on and checked her reflection in a small mirror that popped out of the console. The woman who looked back wasn't quite herself, but she would do the trick. Putting the mirror back, Samantha took a bottle of perfume from her purse that Albert had gifted her with and sprayed some on. The custom blend of tuberose and gardenias had an expensive air to it and would lend itself nicely. As they pulled up to the hospital, she saw Bailey pacing frantically. Samantha made no move to exit the car, but stayed inside and waited for the driver to come around and open her door. Fur coat over her arm and her hat perched on her updo, she got out and stood face to face with Bailey.
Ignoring him she turned to the driver and instructed, "Don't go too far, Kingston. After I see Albert, I'm going to want to go shopping again."
When the driver was gone, she turned to Bailey. He moved to hug her but she put her hands on his shoulders and gave him a quick european kiss on each cheek and said, "Let's get inside, Bailey. I don't want to risk the wind damaging my hair."
"It's only a slight breeze kiddo," Bailey protested and trailed behind her.
"It's practically a wind tunnel," she countered petulantly. Then smiled, "Besides, I have to look my best for my poor darling Albert, don't I?"
"You look lovely," he assured her.
Fussing over her outfit, Sam paused to preen in front of a mirror. "I'm all right I suppose for visiting a hospital. And of course Albert doesn't care if I wear couture or nothing at all." Giggling, she told him, "Actually he prefers when I wear nothing but diamonds and a smile."
"Look, Sam. I know this isn't easy, but if he's done something to hurt you. You could come to me," he told her, his voice laced with concern. "I would protect you. He doesn't scare me hiding behind his money and his arrogance."
Shifting her fur so he would notice it, she commented, "Things must be awfully slow at the VCTF now a days for you to be chasing down alleged domestic disputes."
"My friend at Atlanta PD-"
"Should know better than to spread nasty gossip about a man of Albert Newquay's wealth and consequence," Samantha interjected.
"They said you had bruises," Bailey said insistently.
His concern was sweet. Her lies to everyone else had been painless, but prospect of lying to her friend and mentor made her feel guilty. She cared about Bailey, but she loved Jack. Even though she still was unsure if she could forgive him, she wanted to protect him. If Bailey got near Jack while he was suicidal, Jack might confess. And if Bailey got near Jack at a time he was feeling less guilt ridden, her paramour might well kill him. Better to hurt Bailey a little and keep both men safe rather than risk Bailey finding himself at the end of Jack's knife. Sam knew what she had to say to make him leave but it was hard to say the words.
Although she'd done everything imaginable and a few unimaginable things in bed with Jack over the past two years, she'd never discussed it with anyone, even Angel. With Tom and Coop, she'd given Angel details with relative ease aside from a few blushes. But Albert had been different and no amount of prying had gotten her to talk. Angel had been amused and still pushed for her to spill, but Sam had never felt right discussing the matter. Now she was faced with telling an embarrassing lie. It was hard to contemplate after everything that had happened in the past 24 hours, but for Jack's sake and her own piece of mind she had to.
"I have a few hickeys," she dismissed his comment airily and sat down on a bench in the lobby.
"Sam, it doesn't matter how rich that bastard is, I can see to it that he never hurts you again!" Bailey growled angrily and sat down beside her.
"Bailey, trust me, Albert's not doing anything I don't want him to. We got a bit carried away in the bedroom the other night."
"Sex doesn't leave bruises."
"It does when it's done right," she purred. His face was shocked and she hated having to damage his view of her, but she had to help Jack. In a soft voice she confided, "Look Bailey, I don't really want to tell you this and I wish your friend in PD hadn't stuck his nose in this. This is embarrassing and definitely not the sort of thing that Albert and I want to have getting out. The thing is I like it rough."
"You like it rough," he echoed in disbelief.
"Well, not every time, of course," she told him with an embarrassed laugh.
"Sam, if Albert's forcing you into some sort of deviant-"
"God, I wish! Are you kidding me?"
"You never intimated- That is I never got the impression-" Bailey stammered and blushed. "You and Tom-"
"Heaven's no!"
"Then I don't-"
He was resisting and she was having a hard time making the lies come. Samantha had always taken care to never let anyone see what lay beneath the carefully cultivated mask. Jack had been the only one to see what she was capable of. Perhaps she needed to give Bailey a hint of what was beneath the surface. Tell him enough that he would leave her alone but not enough to be suspicious of her. It was a delicate balance and so much was riding on it. Although Jack probably knew what she felt, her friend and mentor had no no inclination.
"I- I-never told you because I didn't want to- couldn't tell you-" Sam began uneasily. Looking downwards she caught sight of her ring and the reminder of Jack made the words come with greater ease. "I couldn't tell you about, Jack."
"Donald Lucas," Bailey corrected.
"No! Not Lucas. The illusion of Jack. The idea of Jack," she told him. "I felt a connection that I never had before in my life."
"Sam-"
"No! Bailey, please," she entreated and looked up at him. "I know you don't want to hear this. But, it's true- always has been true. I don't connect with people. Not really and not the way people are supposed to. I think that's part of why I went into psychology- I hoped for a magic answer that would fix me. I'm not exactly a sociopath, but the only way I've ever been able to feel is through killers and their victims. Jack gave me the most intense emotions I've ever had in my life."
"Sam, you loved Tom and I've seen you with Chloe, you're a wonderful mother."
Shaking her head, she disagreed,"You've seen what I wanted you to see. You haven't seen who I really am. Jack saw and that was what I loved about him. It wasn't the brief flicker of emotion I'd experienced working other cases."
"He was evil-"
"No, Bailey. He made me feel alive. Sometimes I've loved him and sometimes I've hated him. But whether I felt flattered or disturbed, whether I had to suppress the urge to laugh or he made me cry, Jack made me feel so many things and they were wonderful. I loved him clear back when Tom was alive and it scared me. God, how it scared me."
"You just got burnt out at the end," he suggested, taking her hand as if holding her uninjured hand could heal what was wrong inside her. "He's dead now, you can move on with your life."
Offering him a slight smile, Samantha corrected him, "It wasn't burn out Bailey. Do you know how many times I dreamed of him? How many times I would touch myself in the dark and think of him? It scared me for the longest time. Then Donald Lucas came along and I felt- lost. My illusions was shattered. It was like I didn't have a friend in the world."
"You have me. And Angel. And Chloe."
"And it's never mattered," she replied. Seeing the hurt look no his face, she amended, "It's never mattered the way that it should have. It mattered but not on the level that I know is normal."
Bailey looked uncomfortable and tried once more, "That still doesn't mean you need to let that rich SOB hurt you!"
"Albert is the closest to normal I've ever been. I feel more for him than I have for anyone else. He's sweet and kind," she said.. It was true, she thought. Albert had been very sweet and she'd loved him. If it weren't for the ghost of Jack she might have loved Albert completely. It was ironic that she'd loved him in both incarnations. But then perhaps it didn't matter what identity he assumed, Jack was the only man who made her feel and was the only one she'd ever been connected to.
"Sweet and kind doesn't make bruises like that," he said pointing to a bit of her wrist that was exposed.
"No. But sometimes I force him to be something else. He threw up the first time he marked me like this," Samantha told him, omitting that it had only been last night. "I can't say he likes doing it. But sometimes he gives me what I crave. And that's Jack."
"You mean he pretends to be-" Bailey trailed off in horror.
Guilt washed over her. Even though Albert wasn't real, she felt badly for making him sound weak. Still, it was better to sacrifice a bit of the manliness of one of Jack's disguises rather than Jack himself.
"Not all the time of course. I think Albert would kill himself if I demanded he give me a night like last night all the time."
"What kind of man would-"
"One who loves me. He's a gentle soul and I know he hates himself and me when I demand it of him, but Albert wants me to be happy."
"So, he's not abusing you."
"He's not abusing me. I love him, Bailey. In fact-" Samantha trailed off and flashed the ring on her injured hand at him. "He's asked me to marry him."
Overwhelmed by her confession, he sat blinking at the ring rather blankly, before saying, "If that's what you want."
"It is."
"Have you told Chloe yet? You said a while back she didn't care for him."
"No. And it doesn't matter Bailey. She can stay with Angel or go to her grandparents or go to boarding school."
"But she's your daughter," he protested.
"I'm tired of pretending, Bail. It's not fair to me and it's really not fair to Chloe either. I'll figure out what's best for her, but in my heart I know it's not me. There's only one person who needs me now and he's waiting for me upstairs. So if you don't mind-"
His expression was sad and defeated as he said, "Of course. I'll- I'll see you around kiddo."
She hugged him and disappeared into the bank of elevators. Bailey was disturbed by her confession; but it would keep him alive. Aside from a few small lies and omissions, most of what she said was the truth. Let him think she was immersed in the wealthy world of Albert Newquay and that she was perverted beyond all redemption. Jack was safe and strangely after admitting her feelings aloud, she felt better.
******************************
When she reached the floor Jack's room was on, she tried to think of what to she would say to him. Her thoughts were scattered in a million different directions. She loved him, talking to Bailey and speaking of her isolation had ironically made her feelings even clearer to her. But as the dull ache from her bruised wrists and arms radiated as she walked, Samantha felt her hatred renewed. However much she cared about him, nothing changed what Jack did to her. Reaching his room, she hesitated outside the door for a moment. A nurse walked out and looked at her.
"May I help you?"
"I'm here to see Albert. How is he?"
"In a lot of pain and stubborn. He's refusing his pain meds and isn't pushing the morphine button for his drip either."
"Has he been like this for long?"
"Only since he's been conscious. Are you Samantha?"
Sam nodded.
"Good," the nurse told her. "Maybe you can talk some sense into him. He won't listen to us. In fact he hasn't said single word since he woke up."
"Then how-"
The nurse interjected, "When he was asleep, he kept saying the name over and over. He didn't sleep well though, he kept having nightmares. Every time we came in he was saying your name and saying how sorry he was."
"We had a quarrel last night," she supplied. "I'll see what I can do."
Samantha walked past the nurse into the room. Jack was deathly pale, a fine sheen of perspiration on his face. His eyes were closed and was suppressing a groan as he bit his lower lip. Apparently he was adhering to her orders from last night still. Moving closer to the bed, the feelings she felt guilty as she remembered how she'd wanted him to suffer because of what he did to her. Looking at him in pain, she felt no pleasure. Worse, she wanted to hold him and try to comfort him. Moving near the bed she dumped her coat and purse on a nearby chair.
"Samantha," Jack acknowledged her without opening his eyes.
"I told them to give you pain medication last night. Why aren't you taking it?" she asked as she removed her hat and discarded it.
He laughed bitterly, "Because I deserve to suffer for what I did."
"I thought so too," she confessed and sat on the edge of his bed. "In the emergency room last night, when I said no pain medication, I wanted you to hurt. You'd hurt me and I wanted to hurt you back."
"I know," Jack said opening his eyes. "Did it help?"
"In some ways. I felt really guilty about it. But it made me understand a tiny bit about last night. You wanted to hurt me for hurting you and regretted it afterwards, you were too blinded by pain and anger to think about what you were doing. What I did was similar."
"Our crimes are hardly, equal," Jack protested. Sitting up he insisted, "What you did wasn't a fraction of what I deserve."
"Maybe," she replied. Their eyes met and her feelings overwhelmed her. Pain and love, guilt and hate all mingled together. Her lower lip wobbled as she tried unsuccessfully to hold back tears. "But it- it doesn't change how sorry I am."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," he assured her, his voice thick with emotion.
"I'm sorry I let them hurt you last night-"
"I deserved it!" Jack sobbed. "I'm so sorry, Samantha."
"I know."
"I love you so God damn much and when I thought you loved someone else-"
"You hated me," she sniffed. "And then you hated yourself for what you did."
"How did-"
"Because I hated myself for last night in the ER. And because I hated you after what you did because even after you hurt me, all I wanted was for you to hold me until it was all better!" Samantha hiccuped.
Jack started crying harder and she found herself wrapping her arms around him. Awkward and unsure, he wrapped his arms around her. Samantha clung to him. Burrowing her face in his chest, she wept on his hospital gown. Her neck grew damp and clammy as Jack cried on her. During the course of their outpouring, they had shifted slightly and Jack was lying back as she rested on his chest. When she stopped crying, she looked up at Jack.
"Your eyes are red."
"So are yours," he told her. "Actually you probably look worse because your eye makeup ran."
"Thanks," she told him. He reached for the tissues from the nightstand just as she dried her eyes on his hospital gown.
"Did you just wipe your nose on me?" Jack asked as he handed her a tissue and took one for himself. The procedure was awkward since his fingers were stiff from his injuries. He blew his nose and discarded the tissue in a nearby trash can.
"Maybe," she admitted sheepishly.
Jack laughed briefly and met her gaze. His expression was serious as he asked, "Do you ever think we can move past this?"
"It's going to take a long time," she replied. "But I can't imagine my life without you."
"I would wait forever," Jack told her.
If any other man said that she wouldn't believe them, but if it were any other man who had hurt her like Jack had, she wouldn't be snuggled up in a hospital bed with them either. It would be a long time before she would be ready to contemplate further intimacy. Sex would likely take a lot of false starts and her needing him to stop before they would have much success, Samantha knew from what she'd read and heard about rape victims. She still felt hurt and it would take quite a while to forgive him. But that was normal given the circumstances. On the other hand, she and and Jack had never been normal she thought as sunlight came in the window making her ring glint and she smiled to herself
"You're wearing the ring I bought for you," Jack murmured, interrupting her thoughts.
Meeting his curious gaze she explained, "I tried it on and it wouldn't come off."
"Oh. We can have it cut off if you-"
"No!" Samantha exclaimed in horror. Trying to appear a bit more non-chalant she added, "It's a shame to ruin it. I'm sure it will come off when the swelling goes down."
"Naturally," Jack replied. "I'm sure I can return it then."
Giving him an annoyed look, she demanded, "What do you mean return it?!"
"Nothing," he countered in an amused tone.
"I hate you," she told him peevishly.
Jack smiled slightly and asked almost shyly, "So you liked it?"
Reluctantly she nodded.
"And the inscription?"
"We'll see," she told him as she pushed the button for his morphine drip and nestled close to him once more as he began to get drowsy. It might be months or it might be years before she was ready to forgive him and admit to it, but she'd been his all along and she always would be.
******************************
Sitting at the opera, Samantha looked at her companion and sighed contentedly. From his good looks and charm to the impeccable taste that came from being born into old money, he was everything any normal woman could possibly wish for in a man and she saw how other women envied her. But she wasn't normal. Albert Jackson Newquay was quite a catch, she had to admit. However, Jack-Of-All-Trades was even better. Some nights were filled with passion, some with homicide and often a combination of the two.
It had taken the better part of a year to move past the dark cloud their engagement began under and they still discussed it on occasion. But they had worked through the pain of that night together, and on nights like this it felt like like something from another life. And in a way it was, she thought as she cast a glimpse at her ring. Samantha had finally admitted to Jack that she was indeed his and always had been. They had hurt each other along the way, but had found that even in their darkest moments they could not imagine a life without one another. Her reverie was broken as Jack place his hand over hers and she saw his fading scar and the rose carved wedding band he wore with an identical inscription to hers. They had belonged to each other long before she could admit to it and would belong to each other for the rest of their lives. In a word, their world was perfect.
******************************
Author: M. Elizabeth Ravensblood
Rating: NC-17, language, violence, sexuality
Warning: Non-Con between Jack/Samantha and very graphic violence
Pairing: Jack/Samantha
Summary: For two years, Sam has been dating Albert Newquay, unaware of his true identity she pines for a man she thinks doesn't really exist. A spurned proposal leads to violence and a romantic evening turns into something dark and ugly. Post Season 3, Jack never showed up and Lucas killed himself.
Author's Notes: This is for my lovely friend moonvoice who had been craving some Jack/Samantha non-con. I tried very hard to write something that has a lot of psychological complexity and that could take the characters to a very dark place without making them unredeemable. The result was a very long and dark tale that is probably my darkest piece to date. The rape in this story is very graphic and as realistic as possible - it is about violence and not about sex. I tried very hard to capture the mixed feelings of love and hate a woman feels when someone she loves betrays her in the worst way possible.
This is the final installment of Shattered Illusions. Previous Parts: Part 1 & Part 2
Neither spoke on the way to the hospital and Samantha felt strange sitting next to Jack in the small space with the deafening silence. Normally when they went somewhere, if they didn't take the limo, Jack would drive and he would hold her hand with his free hand. Jack was slumped against the passenger window, staring out blankly. He hadn't just hurt her tonight, he'd himself as well. She didn't know what they would do after tonight. Could she ever trust him again? Was it possible to really ever forgive what he'd done to her? Even if she was able to forgive him, would Jack ever forgive himself? Samantha wondered, casting a glance at him. And then there was that tiny matter of having committed murder earlier.
Sam tried to must some guilt over Matthews death but felt nothing. He was nice enough when she'd talked to him over the past few months since Albert or rather Jack had hired him and he'd meant well when he'd wanted to call the police. It was unfortunate but she felt little more about it. Although she wanted to ask Jack about it and talk to him about it, she knew it wasn't the right time for it. Focusing her attention on the road, she hoped that there would be minimal police involvement. After what happened she didn't want to face Bailey. It would be difficult to lie to him after the night she'd had, Samantha decided as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
They finally arrived at the hospital. After finding a parking space in the emergency lot, she pulled the tuxedo jacket tightly around her and got out. Jack got out and started to stagger towards the entrance. She moved quickly and caught him as he was about to fall. Although he tried to pull away from her, she helped him the rest of the way into the emergency room entrance.
At the desk, the clerk drawled disinterestedly, "Can I help you?"
Samantha raised Jack's hand with the rose stabbed through it and the woman was suddenly on the phone and a moment later they were being swept into the inner sanctum. Questions were being fired at them both in rapid succession. She answered as she'd planned but felt nervous as she waited for Jack to corroborate. True to his word, he stuck to the story she'd told him to stick to. When she heard one of the doctors mutter to a nurse about the police, she mentally swore. It was expected but unwanted. Her hand was worked on and bandaged in quick order. Jack they were having to carefully assess and hadn't started on yet.
He was laid out on a table with a brace holding up each arm. One team was getting ready to work on the hand with glass in it and another the rose.
"Perhaps you'd better wait outside," a nurse suggested. "There's a gentleman and a lady from the police department who need to talk to you." She glared at Jack and added, "Alone."
"I'm not leaving Ja- Albert alone. Once they're done with him, I'll answer any questions Atlanta's finest have to ask."
"We'll see," the nurse replied and disappeared.
Samantha felt a wave of rage wash over her. Although she'd known she'd have to talk to the police, she didn't want to. It had been hard enough telling the lies to the emergency room staff. Lying about the evening and saying Jack hadn't hurt her and that he hadn't raped her while enduring the pseudo sympathetic looks and ginger encouragement of a pair of cops would be miserable. She would do it to save Jack but every bit of hate blazed through her anew as she considered what she was about to have to endure. He'd victimized her and now she would have to endure an interrogation, albeit a gentle one.
"Okay, Albert," one of the doctors said. "We're going to start working on you. When we're done we're going to give you some Darvocet. It will help with the pain. It might make you a little sleepy-"
"I don't need any any."
"You may change you mind in a bit But what I can do is give you some local anesthetic, that will-"
"No," Sam interjected. Her hand was numb from a local anesthetic and she had pain pills in her purse that would knock her out later. But it would be hours before she could take them and it did nothing to take away the stinging between her legs from Jack's assault which added to her anger. Hurting physically and emotionally, she wanted him to hurt. Standing at the end of the bed, she met his gaze and said, "He doesn't want any. Do you Albert?"
A ghost of a smile crossed his lips and he agreed, "My Samantha is quite right."
"But Sir! We need you to stay very still," a young intern chimed in.
"I'll be fine. Please go ahead."
The doctor didn't look happy; but he couldn't force medication on a patient either. Samantha hovered near the end of the bed and watched as the staff began working on Jack's hands. Glass was cleared away from one hand and they hovered nervously over the hand with the rose. As slivers of glass were removed, blood seemed to well up unendingly. At first his winces and gasps made her feel happy. But as they started stitching and he turned pale and bit his lower lip, she started to feel guilty. The one hand was nearly finished and they'd started a blood transfusion. It was the most blood she'd ever seen in her life outside of a crime scene. Normally the sight of blood didn't bother her, but seeing so much blood from Jack as he lay in front of her made her feel dizzy.
"Now Albert, we've got the stem cut so it's been narrowed down and we've removed the thorns. We're going to have pull it out. I need you to stay, really still for me. We need to try to pull it out in one piece. It will do less damage that way."
Jack agreed and closed his his eyes. The doctor maneuvered his hand around the stem just under the blossom carefully. Samantha's heart was racing. She wanted them to stop and to give him medication. Why had she said no? The hand with the glass cuts had been far worse than hers. And the rose?! It was unimaginable. Just as she was about to tell them to stop and give him medication, the doctor pulled the rose out. Jack cried out and his eyes went wide before he mercifully passed out. A moment later, Sam collapsed on the floor in a faint.
Several minutes later she came too on a table nearby. Although a nurse urged her to rest, Samantha got up and walked over to where Jack was. He was still unconscious and she felt relieved.
"We're going to keep him overnight for observation," the doctor told her.
"Have you given him anything for the pain?"
"You mean he might want something for it?" the doctor muttered under his breath giving her a disdainful look. Resuming his professional demeanor he said, "Yes. While he was unconscious, I had them start him on a morphine drip and we're going to start him Cipro for a week to prevent infection."
Distraught and on the verge of tears, she asked, "He's going to be okay, isn't he? I mean- Ja- Albert will have full use of his hand?"
"He'll be fine," the doctor told her. His voice was a bit gentler than before, he assured her, "He'll need some help around the house for a few days when he's released but otherwise, he should be good as new in a couple of weeks."
Sam thanked the doctor and let the nurse lead her to the officers who were impatiently waiting. They seemed skeptical when she gave her account of the evening and insisted on sending officers into the mansion. She felt nervous as they walked through the bedroom, but they after a few minutes of poking around they seemed to accept the evidence. After a final look through the room and asking her once more if everything had indeed been consensual and if she was all right, they left. They hadn't even looked at the bathroom and they didn't poke around the closet and find Jack's secret room. Jack was safe, she realized with a sigh of relief.
Now what to do? She didn't want to go home. If Angel saw her like this, she would ask questions and have Bailey over within minutes. Looking around the room, she felt a wave of nausea and sank to the floor. Her uninjured hand brushed against something and Samantha looked down. It partially buried under the rose petals was the black velvet box Jack had tried to present her with earlier in the evening. She'd never given him the chance to show her what was inside. Curious, she opened the box and looked inside. Samantha wasn't sure what she'd expected to see, but she was taken aback by the sight.
On a bed of black velvet shining up at her was an asscher cut diamond. It was probably two carats, give or take a bit, a bit on the modest size for Jack's wealth but it was flawless and caught the dim light of the bedroom and sparkled. The silvery setting was platinum and from the looks it was an antique. Gingerly, she took it out for a closer look. Ornate and beautifully executed, the setting had a rose carved into either side, it was his way as Albert to subtly claim her as Jack. Her heart constricted as she looked at it, the ring was breathtaking. Not that it should surprise her both Jack and Albert did everything on a grand scale that made a girl's heart race.
Turning the ring around to look at it, she saw it was engraved. Inside was etched with a single word. Mine.
His. She could have been his. And for a time she had been his. Or at least Albert's. But then if she were honest with herself, she'd always belonged to Jack, that was why she'd spurned Albert. Mine. Possessive and indelible. The inscription was pure Jack. Looking at her bandaged left hand, it was swathed almost entirely in gauze, save her ring finger. Chiding herself, even as she was doing it, Samantha slid the ring onto her finger. She held her hand out and looked at the ring. It sparkled enticingly and seemed to nestle comfortably on her finger.
A lump of emotion formed in her throat and she started to pull the ring off. Snug around her finger, the shining circle wouldn't budge. Samantha tugged in vain. The irony of it hit her and she began to laugh loudly, then broke into sobs.
Samantha cried until she didn't have any tears left and her eyes ached. Emotionally and physically drained she felt raw from one end to the other. Standing up, she went into the bathroom and rinsed the tub carefully in case there was any broken glass that had landed inside. After she was sure it was safe, she drew a bath and immersed herself in the water. There was a sharp pain between her legs as her bruised sex made contact with the water, then it abated slightly. Lying back in the tub she'd often shared with Albert, she thought about Jack and wondered if he was in as much pain.
At the start of his treatment, she'd wanted him to hurt. Sam had proposed no local anesthetic as a way of testing his devotion and to get back at him. He'd hurt her and she'd wanted him to hurt to. Except when she'd realized how much agony he was in, she hadn't felt any joy, she'd felt sick. It was different but in a way it mirrored what Jack had done to her earlier. He hadn't raped her because of desire, it had been anger and hatred. He'd wanted to make her hurt and she'd done the same thing to him at the emergency room. It was entirely different and yet their was some similarity.
Nothing would ever change that Jack had raped her; but she could understand the blind fury he felt when he did it. And as the echo of his scream rang in her ears and a wave of nausea washed over her, she could understand how sickened he was by his own actions. She didn't feel suicidal and the two acts were impossible to compare and truly call even, but in a sense she'd held a mirror up and seen what was behind Jack's betrayal. Her own betrayal weighed on her heavily and filled her with regret. Matthews death had barely given her pause, but hurting Jack had touched her deeply.
When her fingers were starting to prune, she got out of the tub and tried to avoid looking at the mirror. She didn't want to look at the ugly reminders of what had happened earlier. After drying herself off, she went into Jack's closet to the small section that was hers for when she stayed over. Everything was either too formal or too sexy. Finally she settled for putting on a pair of silk pajamas she'd given him at Christmas. Sweeping some of the rose petals off the bed, the ring glinted at her accusingly. Sam climbed into bed and fell into an uneasy sleep.
******************************
In the morning, she woke up as the sun was coming up. Samantha hadn't slept for long and she still felt exhausted, but she wanted to get to the hospital and see how Jack was. Between her thighs the flesh was tender but not quite as bad as it had been the previous night. As she dressed, she made a mental note to try and soak in the tub again later. She opted for an old fashioned looking long sleeved peplum suit in pale blue that came below her knees that he'd gifted her with a few weeks before. The modest and feminine cut had seemed strange from Albert but seemed totally fitting for Jack's romantic sensibilities. She tried once more to remove the ring but it was still stuck and her finger looked slightly swollen.
Maybe she could hide her hand from him, Samantha thought as she headed downstairs. On her way out, the housekeeper intercepted her about Matthews and Sam told her that she hadn't seen him since the previous evening and then gave an edited version of Jack's injuries. She told the woman that Albert had gotten cut on a broken glass and had to go to the hospital, omitting how it had happened. The housekeeper was distraught over her employer and quickly forgot the errant butler. Sam made a mental note to ask Jack about how to handle Matthews termination of employment before requesting the driver bring the car around.
Her hand was throbbing and she didn't feel like driving. Once she was ensconced in the back of the limousine and she'd called the hospital to ascertain what room Jack was in, she called Angel.
"Why weren't you answering your cell?! I've been worried sick!" Angel shouted at Sam through the phone.
"I never answer my cell when I'm with Albert. You know that," Samantha replied.
"Bailey came here this morning looking for you. He said there was some sort of an accident and that Albert might have tried to hurt you."
"Albert didn't hurt me. Where's Bailey now?"
"On his way to the mansion looking for you. Sam what happened? What's-"
Sam cut her off, "Sorry, Angel. I gotta go. Call you later."
Hanging up before her friend could protest, she punched in Bailey's number and crossed her fingers he would pick up.
"Sam! I've been worried sick! A friend of mine at Atlanta PD said there's been a domestic disturbance at your boyfriend's place. He said there were no charges being filed. Sammy, if that rich bastard-"
"No! Bailey, it's not like that!"
The voice on the other end argued, "You can tell me that in person, I'm on my way."
"I'm in the limo on my way to see Albert at the hospital. He got a nasty cut-"
"From a rose?! Sam, I can meet you at the hospital in the lobby. We'll talk there."
Damn it! Samantha mentally swore and said, "Fine. I'll see you there."
Sitting back in her seat, she tried to think of what to do. Opening her purse she removed her makeup and started applying it. She took care to erase the dark circles under her eyes and add blush to her cheeks. Then she took a brush and a few pins from her bag and styled her hair in an elegant updo. Grimly she looked inside her wallet and took out her credit card. She had a part to play and if she was going to play it to the hilt, she needed to look the part. Lowering the window to speak to the driver, she told him to stop at a plaza of upscale stores that were en route to the hospital.
Samantha dashed into a jewelers and selected an ostentatious sapphire and diamond pin that she put on her card and pinned to her suit. Another stop wielded a wide brimmed pale blue hat to match with white ostrich feathers trimming it. She was about to leave when a display in the window of a designer vintage shop caught her eyes. Ducking inside, she emerged moments later with a long white fox fur coat with a pale silky blue lining. Although she didn't care much for fur, she wouldn't need it for long and she assuaged her guilt with the fact it was vintage rather than new.
Back in the limousine, she put her new hat on and checked her reflection in a small mirror that popped out of the console. The woman who looked back wasn't quite herself, but she would do the trick. Putting the mirror back, Samantha took a bottle of perfume from her purse that Albert had gifted her with and sprayed some on. The custom blend of tuberose and gardenias had an expensive air to it and would lend itself nicely. As they pulled up to the hospital, she saw Bailey pacing frantically. Samantha made no move to exit the car, but stayed inside and waited for the driver to come around and open her door. Fur coat over her arm and her hat perched on her updo, she got out and stood face to face with Bailey.
Ignoring him she turned to the driver and instructed, "Don't go too far, Kingston. After I see Albert, I'm going to want to go shopping again."
When the driver was gone, she turned to Bailey. He moved to hug her but she put her hands on his shoulders and gave him a quick european kiss on each cheek and said, "Let's get inside, Bailey. I don't want to risk the wind damaging my hair."
"It's only a slight breeze kiddo," Bailey protested and trailed behind her.
"It's practically a wind tunnel," she countered petulantly. Then smiled, "Besides, I have to look my best for my poor darling Albert, don't I?"
"You look lovely," he assured her.
Fussing over her outfit, Sam paused to preen in front of a mirror. "I'm all right I suppose for visiting a hospital. And of course Albert doesn't care if I wear couture or nothing at all." Giggling, she told him, "Actually he prefers when I wear nothing but diamonds and a smile."
"Look, Sam. I know this isn't easy, but if he's done something to hurt you. You could come to me," he told her, his voice laced with concern. "I would protect you. He doesn't scare me hiding behind his money and his arrogance."
Shifting her fur so he would notice it, she commented, "Things must be awfully slow at the VCTF now a days for you to be chasing down alleged domestic disputes."
"My friend at Atlanta PD-"
"Should know better than to spread nasty gossip about a man of Albert Newquay's wealth and consequence," Samantha interjected.
"They said you had bruises," Bailey said insistently.
His concern was sweet. Her lies to everyone else had been painless, but prospect of lying to her friend and mentor made her feel guilty. She cared about Bailey, but she loved Jack. Even though she still was unsure if she could forgive him, she wanted to protect him. If Bailey got near Jack while he was suicidal, Jack might confess. And if Bailey got near Jack at a time he was feeling less guilt ridden, her paramour might well kill him. Better to hurt Bailey a little and keep both men safe rather than risk Bailey finding himself at the end of Jack's knife. Sam knew what she had to say to make him leave but it was hard to say the words.
Although she'd done everything imaginable and a few unimaginable things in bed with Jack over the past two years, she'd never discussed it with anyone, even Angel. With Tom and Coop, she'd given Angel details with relative ease aside from a few blushes. But Albert had been different and no amount of prying had gotten her to talk. Angel had been amused and still pushed for her to spill, but Sam had never felt right discussing the matter. Now she was faced with telling an embarrassing lie. It was hard to contemplate after everything that had happened in the past 24 hours, but for Jack's sake and her own piece of mind she had to.
"I have a few hickeys," she dismissed his comment airily and sat down on a bench in the lobby.
"Sam, it doesn't matter how rich that bastard is, I can see to it that he never hurts you again!" Bailey growled angrily and sat down beside her.
"Bailey, trust me, Albert's not doing anything I don't want him to. We got a bit carried away in the bedroom the other night."
"Sex doesn't leave bruises."
"It does when it's done right," she purred. His face was shocked and she hated having to damage his view of her, but she had to help Jack. In a soft voice she confided, "Look Bailey, I don't really want to tell you this and I wish your friend in PD hadn't stuck his nose in this. This is embarrassing and definitely not the sort of thing that Albert and I want to have getting out. The thing is I like it rough."
"You like it rough," he echoed in disbelief.
"Well, not every time, of course," she told him with an embarrassed laugh.
"Sam, if Albert's forcing you into some sort of deviant-"
"God, I wish! Are you kidding me?"
"You never intimated- That is I never got the impression-" Bailey stammered and blushed. "You and Tom-"
"Heaven's no!"
"Then I don't-"
He was resisting and she was having a hard time making the lies come. Samantha had always taken care to never let anyone see what lay beneath the carefully cultivated mask. Jack had been the only one to see what she was capable of. Perhaps she needed to give Bailey a hint of what was beneath the surface. Tell him enough that he would leave her alone but not enough to be suspicious of her. It was a delicate balance and so much was riding on it. Although Jack probably knew what she felt, her friend and mentor had no no inclination.
"I- I-never told you because I didn't want to- couldn't tell you-" Sam began uneasily. Looking downwards she caught sight of her ring and the reminder of Jack made the words come with greater ease. "I couldn't tell you about, Jack."
"Donald Lucas," Bailey corrected.
"No! Not Lucas. The illusion of Jack. The idea of Jack," she told him. "I felt a connection that I never had before in my life."
"Sam-"
"No! Bailey, please," she entreated and looked up at him. "I know you don't want to hear this. But, it's true- always has been true. I don't connect with people. Not really and not the way people are supposed to. I think that's part of why I went into psychology- I hoped for a magic answer that would fix me. I'm not exactly a sociopath, but the only way I've ever been able to feel is through killers and their victims. Jack gave me the most intense emotions I've ever had in my life."
"Sam, you loved Tom and I've seen you with Chloe, you're a wonderful mother."
Shaking her head, she disagreed,"You've seen what I wanted you to see. You haven't seen who I really am. Jack saw and that was what I loved about him. It wasn't the brief flicker of emotion I'd experienced working other cases."
"He was evil-"
"No, Bailey. He made me feel alive. Sometimes I've loved him and sometimes I've hated him. But whether I felt flattered or disturbed, whether I had to suppress the urge to laugh or he made me cry, Jack made me feel so many things and they were wonderful. I loved him clear back when Tom was alive and it scared me. God, how it scared me."
"You just got burnt out at the end," he suggested, taking her hand as if holding her uninjured hand could heal what was wrong inside her. "He's dead now, you can move on with your life."
Offering him a slight smile, Samantha corrected him, "It wasn't burn out Bailey. Do you know how many times I dreamed of him? How many times I would touch myself in the dark and think of him? It scared me for the longest time. Then Donald Lucas came along and I felt- lost. My illusions was shattered. It was like I didn't have a friend in the world."
"You have me. And Angel. And Chloe."
"And it's never mattered," she replied. Seeing the hurt look no his face, she amended, "It's never mattered the way that it should have. It mattered but not on the level that I know is normal."
Bailey looked uncomfortable and tried once more, "That still doesn't mean you need to let that rich SOB hurt you!"
"Albert is the closest to normal I've ever been. I feel more for him than I have for anyone else. He's sweet and kind," she said.. It was true, she thought. Albert had been very sweet and she'd loved him. If it weren't for the ghost of Jack she might have loved Albert completely. It was ironic that she'd loved him in both incarnations. But then perhaps it didn't matter what identity he assumed, Jack was the only man who made her feel and was the only one she'd ever been connected to.
"Sweet and kind doesn't make bruises like that," he said pointing to a bit of her wrist that was exposed.
"No. But sometimes I force him to be something else. He threw up the first time he marked me like this," Samantha told him, omitting that it had only been last night. "I can't say he likes doing it. But sometimes he gives me what I crave. And that's Jack."
"You mean he pretends to be-" Bailey trailed off in horror.
Guilt washed over her. Even though Albert wasn't real, she felt badly for making him sound weak. Still, it was better to sacrifice a bit of the manliness of one of Jack's disguises rather than Jack himself.
"Not all the time of course. I think Albert would kill himself if I demanded he give me a night like last night all the time."
"What kind of man would-"
"One who loves me. He's a gentle soul and I know he hates himself and me when I demand it of him, but Albert wants me to be happy."
"So, he's not abusing you."
"He's not abusing me. I love him, Bailey. In fact-" Samantha trailed off and flashed the ring on her injured hand at him. "He's asked me to marry him."
Overwhelmed by her confession, he sat blinking at the ring rather blankly, before saying, "If that's what you want."
"It is."
"Have you told Chloe yet? You said a while back she didn't care for him."
"No. And it doesn't matter Bailey. She can stay with Angel or go to her grandparents or go to boarding school."
"But she's your daughter," he protested.
"I'm tired of pretending, Bail. It's not fair to me and it's really not fair to Chloe either. I'll figure out what's best for her, but in my heart I know it's not me. There's only one person who needs me now and he's waiting for me upstairs. So if you don't mind-"
His expression was sad and defeated as he said, "Of course. I'll- I'll see you around kiddo."
She hugged him and disappeared into the bank of elevators. Bailey was disturbed by her confession; but it would keep him alive. Aside from a few small lies and omissions, most of what she said was the truth. Let him think she was immersed in the wealthy world of Albert Newquay and that she was perverted beyond all redemption. Jack was safe and strangely after admitting her feelings aloud, she felt better.
******************************
When she reached the floor Jack's room was on, she tried to think of what to she would say to him. Her thoughts were scattered in a million different directions. She loved him, talking to Bailey and speaking of her isolation had ironically made her feelings even clearer to her. But as the dull ache from her bruised wrists and arms radiated as she walked, Samantha felt her hatred renewed. However much she cared about him, nothing changed what Jack did to her. Reaching his room, she hesitated outside the door for a moment. A nurse walked out and looked at her.
"May I help you?"
"I'm here to see Albert. How is he?"
"In a lot of pain and stubborn. He's refusing his pain meds and isn't pushing the morphine button for his drip either."
"Has he been like this for long?"
"Only since he's been conscious. Are you Samantha?"
Sam nodded.
"Good," the nurse told her. "Maybe you can talk some sense into him. He won't listen to us. In fact he hasn't said single word since he woke up."
"Then how-"
The nurse interjected, "When he was asleep, he kept saying the name over and over. He didn't sleep well though, he kept having nightmares. Every time we came in he was saying your name and saying how sorry he was."
"We had a quarrel last night," she supplied. "I'll see what I can do."
Samantha walked past the nurse into the room. Jack was deathly pale, a fine sheen of perspiration on his face. His eyes were closed and was suppressing a groan as he bit his lower lip. Apparently he was adhering to her orders from last night still. Moving closer to the bed, the feelings she felt guilty as she remembered how she'd wanted him to suffer because of what he did to her. Looking at him in pain, she felt no pleasure. Worse, she wanted to hold him and try to comfort him. Moving near the bed she dumped her coat and purse on a nearby chair.
"Samantha," Jack acknowledged her without opening his eyes.
"I told them to give you pain medication last night. Why aren't you taking it?" she asked as she removed her hat and discarded it.
He laughed bitterly, "Because I deserve to suffer for what I did."
"I thought so too," she confessed and sat on the edge of his bed. "In the emergency room last night, when I said no pain medication, I wanted you to hurt. You'd hurt me and I wanted to hurt you back."
"I know," Jack said opening his eyes. "Did it help?"
"In some ways. I felt really guilty about it. But it made me understand a tiny bit about last night. You wanted to hurt me for hurting you and regretted it afterwards, you were too blinded by pain and anger to think about what you were doing. What I did was similar."
"Our crimes are hardly, equal," Jack protested. Sitting up he insisted, "What you did wasn't a fraction of what I deserve."
"Maybe," she replied. Their eyes met and her feelings overwhelmed her. Pain and love, guilt and hate all mingled together. Her lower lip wobbled as she tried unsuccessfully to hold back tears. "But it- it doesn't change how sorry I am."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," he assured her, his voice thick with emotion.
"I'm sorry I let them hurt you last night-"
"I deserved it!" Jack sobbed. "I'm so sorry, Samantha."
"I know."
"I love you so God damn much and when I thought you loved someone else-"
"You hated me," she sniffed. "And then you hated yourself for what you did."
"How did-"
"Because I hated myself for last night in the ER. And because I hated you after what you did because even after you hurt me, all I wanted was for you to hold me until it was all better!" Samantha hiccuped.
Jack started crying harder and she found herself wrapping her arms around him. Awkward and unsure, he wrapped his arms around her. Samantha clung to him. Burrowing her face in his chest, she wept on his hospital gown. Her neck grew damp and clammy as Jack cried on her. During the course of their outpouring, they had shifted slightly and Jack was lying back as she rested on his chest. When she stopped crying, she looked up at Jack.
"Your eyes are red."
"So are yours," he told her. "Actually you probably look worse because your eye makeup ran."
"Thanks," she told him. He reached for the tissues from the nightstand just as she dried her eyes on his hospital gown.
"Did you just wipe your nose on me?" Jack asked as he handed her a tissue and took one for himself. The procedure was awkward since his fingers were stiff from his injuries. He blew his nose and discarded the tissue in a nearby trash can.
"Maybe," she admitted sheepishly.
Jack laughed briefly and met her gaze. His expression was serious as he asked, "Do you ever think we can move past this?"
"It's going to take a long time," she replied. "But I can't imagine my life without you."
"I would wait forever," Jack told her.
If any other man said that she wouldn't believe them, but if it were any other man who had hurt her like Jack had, she wouldn't be snuggled up in a hospital bed with them either. It would be a long time before she would be ready to contemplate further intimacy. Sex would likely take a lot of false starts and her needing him to stop before they would have much success, Samantha knew from what she'd read and heard about rape victims. She still felt hurt and it would take quite a while to forgive him. But that was normal given the circumstances. On the other hand, she and and Jack had never been normal she thought as sunlight came in the window making her ring glint and she smiled to herself
"You're wearing the ring I bought for you," Jack murmured, interrupting her thoughts.
Meeting his curious gaze she explained, "I tried it on and it wouldn't come off."
"Oh. We can have it cut off if you-"
"No!" Samantha exclaimed in horror. Trying to appear a bit more non-chalant she added, "It's a shame to ruin it. I'm sure it will come off when the swelling goes down."
"Naturally," Jack replied. "I'm sure I can return it then."
Giving him an annoyed look, she demanded, "What do you mean return it?!"
"Nothing," he countered in an amused tone.
"I hate you," she told him peevishly.
Jack smiled slightly and asked almost shyly, "So you liked it?"
Reluctantly she nodded.
"And the inscription?"
"We'll see," she told him as she pushed the button for his morphine drip and nestled close to him once more as he began to get drowsy. It might be months or it might be years before she was ready to forgive him and admit to it, but she'd been his all along and she always would be.
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Sitting at the opera, Samantha looked at her companion and sighed contentedly. From his good looks and charm to the impeccable taste that came from being born into old money, he was everything any normal woman could possibly wish for in a man and she saw how other women envied her. But she wasn't normal. Albert Jackson Newquay was quite a catch, she had to admit. However, Jack-Of-All-Trades was even better. Some nights were filled with passion, some with homicide and often a combination of the two.
It had taken the better part of a year to move past the dark cloud their engagement began under and they still discussed it on occasion. But they had worked through the pain of that night together, and on nights like this it felt like like something from another life. And in a way it was, she thought as she cast a glimpse at her ring. Samantha had finally admitted to Jack that she was indeed his and always had been. They had hurt each other along the way, but had found that even in their darkest moments they could not imagine a life without one another. Her reverie was broken as Jack place his hand over hers and she saw his fading scar and the rose carved wedding band he wore with an identical inscription to hers. They had belonged to each other long before she could admit to it and would belong to each other for the rest of their lives. In a word, their world was perfect.
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