Mute

Confessions

        “Stop. I got to stop.” Jace collapsed into the chair that Sam pulled out when she saw his legs shaking. She produced a glass of water and he felt a cold rag press against the back of his neck. He was sweating and gasping for breath.

        “Sam. He asked how you communicate.” The old man sat down at the head of the table. He swung his still shaky gaze to her, her hands were moving too fast.

        ‘Slow down,’ his hands said back.

        ‘You sign?’ she asked slower this time.

        “My granny, she is deaf and mute.” He shook the haze out of his eyes. “I am rusty at it,” He mumbled before taking a slow sip of water.

        ‘What caused your accident?’ she asked.

        “A few men were trying to kill me.”

        “Samantha, jace here is undercover. He is f.b.i,” her daddy said quietly. Her eyes went round and wide, she looked between the men sitting in front of her. Not that he could do anything about it but he really didn’t like seeing her get scared like she was now at mention of his occupation.

        ‘Who was it?’ she asked, her hands trembling. ‘Will they come looking for you?’

        “A drug dealer, Deacon Sand. I don’t think they know about you two yet. They must have thought the crash killed me.”

        “It almost did.” Her father said as he sighed. “While you are here, you will be safe. Don’t you worry about it. Like I said, your boss is sending help.”

        “I think I can make it to a bed now.” He pushed himself up to his feet, his arms and his knees wobbled and he fell towards Sam behind him. He caught himself before he crushed her back against the counter. He was straddle her with his arms, their faces inches apart. Sam wrapped her am around his back under his arms and took his weight as she turned him around the corner to the stairs.

        “Oh s**t!” He missed the first step and sagged hard into her tiny frame underneath his, “sorry Sam.” They took the steps one at a time, her father following behind just incase he passed out on the long trip.

She eased him down to the bed as her father hung back at the door,     

        ‘There isn’t much left of your shirt, I will take it off and bring one of dad’s.’ without warning she grabbed his tattered shirt in both hands and ripped it clean in too, really wasn’t much left but tatters. Her glacial tundra’s went wide at the sight of the blood and ink all over him. She snatched the remnants from the floor, having dropped the shirt in shock, and shot out of the room.

        He sighed, fighting to stay awake until she came back with a clean white t-shirt. She helped him into it, it fit him snug, making his muscles seem bigger than ever.

        “Sam, answer me one thing.” The damned room was spinning and it was hot again making it harder to breath and catch his breath.

        ‘Lay down first.’ She demanded, 'on your back so we can take out the bullets.’

        He flopped down and groaned as he pulled his feet up to stretch out. He started over and couldn’t go farther than his side, he felt her shove him on over to lay on his stomach. She pulled his heavy biker boots off and sat them down near the foot board. “Sam, do I scare you?” it was muffled against the pillows, he had forced himself up on his elbows to see her answer.

        ‘No. Guns scare me,’ she glanced at him shyly, ‘you are a big man. But you don’t scare me.’

        “Good. I got to tell you one thing.” He motioned her closer, she leaned down bracing against the mattress on her hands, he snagged her hand and pulled her close. He kissed her lightly, and mumbled against her lips. “I love you.”