Heaven and Hell (Heaven and Hell #1)(158)

Cuddling her, I was heading toward the office but heard something in the bedroom so, brows drawing together, I moved there.

Then I stopped dead in the doorway.

Sam was packing his big black leather duffle. The duffle he used when he went to Italy then went with me to Crete and Indiana.

I didn’t get a good feeling about this.

“Sam?” I whispered, my eyes going to him to see his movements were economical, practiced and swift.

He dumped something from the dresser into his bag, what, I didn’t care and his eyes came to me.

“Baby, got a gig I gotta do. I’ll be gone three weeks, month tops.”

I froze.

He had a gig where he’d be gone three weeks, a month tops?

What.

The.

Fuck?

“Sorry?” I asked and my voice sounded strangled.

Sam didn’t repeat himself. But as he moved to the walk-in, he kept talking.

“I’ll text or call to let you know when to expect me home.” He disappeared into the walk-in and kept speaking. “But until then communication will be random and infrequent.”

He was suddenly and without notice leaving for three weeks and telling me communication would be random and infrequent.

Was he high?

Seriously?

I forced myself to come unstuck, wandered partially into the room and he came out with a load of jeans and shirts.

“You’re leaving for three weeks?” I asked.

He shoved the stuff in without folding it. I already knew this was why his shirts were so wrinkled. I didn’t try to break him of this habit before and, for obvious reasons, I didn’t mention it now.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“You’re leaving for three weeks,” I repeated as a statement this time.

His eyes came to me but only to skim through me before he looked down at the bed and I saw him pick up his passport.

His passport!

Then he repeated, “Yeah,” as he shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans.

“You can’t be serious,” I whispered and he looked at me but this time he held my eyes.

“You might wanna take this opportunity to go home,” he suggested. “You do, let me know, just text me or leave a voicemail if I don’t pick up. You decide to stay awhile, when I’m done, I’ll go to you in Indiana.”

Then he went to the nightstand, picked up his watch and started to strap it on.

This wasn’t happening. He didn’t seriously think that I could leave him to have lunch with Luci, be gone a few hours, come back and find him packing, taking his passport and telling me he was going to be gone an indefinite amount of time with little to no communication, no understanding of where he was going and what he was going to be doing there and I’d be okay with that.

“Sam, honey, you need to stop a second and give me a little time,” I said quietly.

He looked from his watch to me. “Kia, baby, wish I could but I don’t have a little time. Wheels up in an hour and the drive is forty-five minutes. I gotta hit the road.”

“Wheels up?” I asked.

“The plane is taking off,” he answered.

I sucked in breath and tried to pull in patience with it.

Then I said carefully, “You’re telling me you’re getting on a plane in an hour, taking off to parts unknown to do deeds unexplained and, for me, this is all at the definition of a moment’s notice.”

He finished with his watch, eyes still locked on me and he confirmed, “That’s what I’m tellin’ you.”

“And you expect me to accept that,” I whispered.

He started to look impatient. “Kia, I told you, I don’t have time.”

He didn’t have time.

He didn’t have time.

My heart started hurting, like a lot.

“You need to make time.” I was still whispering when I gave my warning.

“I cannot do this now,” he muttered, definitely impatient, he moved then bent to his bag and zipped it up.

Then, Memphis in my arms, we watched him go back to the nightstand and tag his phone. Then we watched him shove it in his back pocket. Then we watched him haul up the bag by the strap and hook it on his shoulder. Then we watched him move to us.

Then I stood immobile as Memphis shook happily in my arms and Sam gave her a head rub. Then I stayed unmoving as his hand came up, wrapped around my jaw, he tipped my head back and kissed me hard and closed-mouthed.

Then he let me go and moved to the door.

He was leaving.

Just like that. He was leaving.

I moved then.

I turned to face the door and said softly, “I love you, Sam.”

He stopped and turned to me. I saw immediately that his face had changed. His features had been guarded, the shutters down, I was shut out.

Now his face was soft, his eyes warm and intense and his lips were tipped up.

He thought he still had me.

But it would be what he would do next that would tip the balance of my heart; he just didn’t know he was being tested.

He failed at the first hurdle by whispering, “Good.”

Instantly I asked, “Do you love me?”

The guard rose up, the shutters in his eyes slammed down and my heart split right in two.

He didn’t answer.

“Do you love me?” I repeated.