The Reckless Collision

Ray.

~~~

"Sam, open the door," I said, knocking on the door again.

The entrance cracked open, and I first saw Molly her blond hair damp and disheveled, I stepped inside immediately, my eyes scanning the room for Samantha. She stood there, caught between the entrance and the living room, her expression tense.

Without thinking, I crossed the space between us, wrapped my arms around her, and held her close inhaling her scent. My lips brushed her neck in a kiss, and for a moment, everything felt steady again. She was safe.

A loud, pointed clearing of the throat shattered the moment. Molly. Reluctantly, I stepped back, meeting her sharp glare, and turned to the man who had followed me in.

"Hello again, Samantha," Paul said, his voice calm and authoritative. He glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on each of us. "We all need to talk."

Sam hesitated, then nodded. Her eyes flickered to me, searching for reassurance. I gave her a small nod in return, silently letting her know it was okay.

We all made our way to the living room and settled into our places. Sam and I sat on the couch, her body still rigid beside me. Paul took the armchair, leaning back with a confidence that seemed unshakable, while Molly perched on the backrest of the couch near us, her arms crossed, watching him like a hawk.

"I'm private detective Paul Murphy," he began, his voice steady. "Mr. Lawrence explained your situation, and I'm here to help you, Miss Morris." He leaned back, his fingers laced over his stomach.

Sam opened her mouth to say something, but Molly beat her to it. "I'm M—"

Paul raised a hand, cutting her off. "Yes, Miss Molly Fleming. Best friend. Father lost family funds. Lives with an actor named Mason Hale. Works as a—"

"Okay, okay, we get it," Molly interrupted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You've done your homework."

Paul smiled, unbothered by her tone. "That's my job. First, I establish all relationships with Miss Morris to better understand how I can help."

Sam shifted beside me, and I felt her tension as clearly as if it were my own. "Sam. Call me Sam," she said softly, managing a polite smile. "Do you have any ideas about this situation?"

"Yes, a few," Paul replied, his tone measured. "I'm officially working on your case as of yesterday."

Sam's head whipped toward me, her eyes wide with surprise. "I meant to tell you," I said quickly, squeezing her hand.

Paul continued without missing a beat. "First, I suggest cutting off all physical contact with Mr. Shaw." Sam tensed beside me, her eyes darting to meet mine. "But," Paul added, "you'll need to maintain minimal contact with him to avoid raising suspicions. If he starts to think you know what he's doing, the situation could escalate."

I couldn't help the low growl of frustration that escaped me. "How long are we supposed to keep this up?" Sam asked, her voice edged with desperation. "We meet at least twice a week—how am I supposed to explain suddenly avoiding him?"

Paul exchanged a glance with me, silently asking permission to reveal what we'd discussed earlier. I gave him a slight nod.

"You've mentioned traveling, haven't you?" I asked, turning to Sam. "I'm going on tour soon. You could come with me." Molly's laugh burst out before I even finished the sentence, sharp and disbelieving.

"You've got to be kidding," Sam said, her brows shooting up. She looked at Molly, who was trying—and failing—to stifle her amusement.

"I'm not," I said firmly, even though her reaction stung. I dropped my gaze to our entwined fingers, running my thumb over the back of her hand.