“Were they here before, Sam?”
“No. This is the first time. Because they were out there, I couldn’t be sure someone else wasn’t watching the house as well. It felt like it when I first went out.”
That frisson of fear crept down her spine. “Do you think those men were the ones I felt spying on my friends and me when we were camping? Because someone was.”
“I don’t know.” There was a distinct edge to his voice. “I told them not to come here again and definitely not to go anywhere near you or your friends.”
Her stomach was suddenly in knots. “They didn’t threaten any of my friends, did they?” She was more worried about her small circle of friends than she was about herself.
“One of them mentioned meeting Raine. He was offhand about it, but I didn’t like it and I let him know.”
Sam had only spoken to the older man, but he’d swept the legs out from under the younger man when he’d been talking. It had to have been him, the younger man, and Sam had retaliated, taking him down and then taking his weapon. Stella had thought it was because the younger man had held a gun on him.
Protectively, she put her hand to her throat. “Why would he say anything about Raine?”
Sam shrugged. “He was testing me. It didn’t work out in his favor.”
A sudden thought occurred to her. “Do they know who I really am like Raine does?”
He sighed. “No, Stella, they have no way of knowing. Even if they did, they wouldn’t say anything unless they thought it would get me to do something they wanted me to do.”
She pressed her lips together. “They wanted you to leave, didn’t they? That man, the older one, he wasn’t trying to get you to take another job somewhere. He wanted you to leave.”
In one of those rare Sam moments, his lips curved into a real smile. It was breathtaking. At least for her. He just didn’t smile that often. It changed his entire demeanor.
“You were watching.”
“Someone had to back you up just in case you got in over your head.”
He laughed. That was even more exhilarating. The sound was beautiful. “Yeah, sweetheart, we had a little argument over that.”
“It didn’t look so little to me. Sam, who were those people?”
“I give you this, Stella, you give me your word first that you stick with me.” All humor had vanished from his face, leaving him completely expressionless again.
“My father is a serial killer, Sam. I had to confess that to you and I’m still having to come to terms with telling my friends.” She already knew he’d worked for the government in some capacity. It wasn’t like she was going to be shocked.
“You better keep your word, because I’m holding you to it.”
She’d never seen Sam tense. Never. She almost didn’t want him to tell her. She knew what it was like to protect secrets and keep them hidden for very good reasons. Some secrets didn’t need to come to light. Sam traveled around, looking for a new life, a new beginning. He had just wanted to be left alone.
“Were they government agents, Sam?” She gentled her voice, trying to convey to him that no matter what, even if they were trying to convince him they wanted him to come back and work for them, she would understand.
Sam shook his head. “No, not even close, Stella. The older man you saw out there, that was my father, Don Marco Rossi. The one I put on the ground was his underboss, and the mouthy one was a bodyguard.” He fell silent, his dark eyes on her face while she absorbed his statement.
Stella frowned. “Sam. I’m not going to pretend I haven’t heard of him, but why would you be so upset over telling me who your father is when my father is sitting in jail right now for what he did?”
“Your father killed how many victims over four years? Five? Who do you think taught me most of what I know, Stella? Do you think I learned to be what I am from the training I was given when I joined the military? That was my father’s training. That was what I was taught from the time I was in the cradle.”
Sam took another long drink of water and rubbed Bailey’s fur while Stella thought about the tense way everyone had acted when his father had gestured toward the house. Had he threatened her? What had Sam been close to doing? Surely he wouldn’t have attacked his own father.
“What went wrong between you and your father, Sam?” she asked.
Sam screwed the cap onto the bottle and then pressed the bottle to his forehead. “My family owns quite a few strip clubs, and my father saw no reason not to partake in the joys of the back rooms there. He did so often. My mother was sweet, Stella. The best. Loved big gatherings with lots of friends and food. She cooked meals herself. We had money obviously, but she did everything herself. She poured love into everything she did. And she loved him. She made everything in that house perfect for him.”