But to be honest she’d take it over the cold, aloof, studiously-ignoring-her-the-whole-time Sam any day. This new version of Sam, whilst being more physically affectionate, also seemed far more relaxed. He smiled more, even laughed easily, and he teased her in a sweet, I-think-you’re-cute way rather than an I-secretly-want-to-strangle-you way. He had a dry sense of humour, which seemed to compliment Katie’s more outgoing personality perfectly. He was unfailingly considerate of her, even seeming to go out of his way to do/eat/watch things he knew she would enjoy. On gentle questioning, he’d shrugged, telling her: ‘I like Chinese food – it’s time I loosen the reins on my eating habits anyway; I prefer to watch stuff with your nutty commentary, which I can only get with stuff you like; and, I like going to the pub – nothing wrong with the odd pint midweek.’
Katie knew she was making him happy, and he seemed that way most of the time; but sometimes … sometimes there was something lurking behind his eyes. He never lost control, he didn’t shout or get aggravated … but sometimes, like when Katie had forgot to set her alarm at night or walked out to her car on her own after work (Gweneth, the little sneak, had dobbed her in on that one), sometimes his mouth would get tight and his eyes would darken, and she’d get the impression that behind his cool façade something was stirring.
Unfortunately she just let this go. She didn’t press him to reveal more than he wanted.
And this, she would find, was a mistake.
Chapter 22
Just go
As soon as they neared the table, Sam pulled out two chairs and sat, pulling Katie into the one next to him and then throwing his arm over the back of hers.
‘Weird Rambo,’ Russell sing-songed as he ambled up to Katie’s other side. ‘You know that couples aren’t really allowed to sit together. It’s a rule.’
Sam turned in his seat and looked up at Russell steadily, his face stony.
‘Okay then,’ Russell said, the side of his mouth tipping up in a small smile. ‘Good talk.’
Sam looked up at the ceiling and Katie giggled. Out of everyone, Russell was the least intimidated by Sam, and seemed to have set himself a personal challenge to get a rise out of ‘Weird Rambo’ at least once whenever they saw each other. Not an easy feat with a man like Sam, but Russell was just about outrageous enough to manage it.
‘Look,’ Katie said, carefully extracting herself from the chair and Sam’s arm. ‘I’ve got to serve the food anyway so I’d be better sat on the other side – and itisa rule; you don’t want to anger The Beast, do you?’ Sam glanced down the table at a scowling Sarah, and Katie thought he might have shuddered.
‘Okay,’ he said, as if she needed his consent to sit wherever the hell she wanted. Katie smiled, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, which she belatedly realised had drawn quite a few curious eyes, and then skipped through to the kitchen to help Lou and Frankie. When she came back the only seat free was opposite Sam, and to his credit he didn’t say a word.
It was towards the end of the meal that it happened, after the normal demands from a drunk Russell, wanting to know if Sam and Rob had ‘ever killed a man with their bare hands?’. Neither ever answered, and Dylan instead had chipped in with: ‘Listen, boyo, I may never have killed a man with my bare hands, but if you keep asking that fucking question I’ll be tempted.’
Russell had glared at Dylan for a moment, then shrugged, deciding to change the subject. ‘You enjoy your little jaunt on the pink lady, Kate? Been a while since we’ve seen you scooting about with gay abandon; I’ve missed it.’
Katie smiled. ‘Well, it wasn’t exactly by choice, was it? Bloody car.’ Her smile died as she noticed that Sam was slowly lowering his coffee cup, his knuckles white from his grip on the handle and his jaw tight.
‘Anyway,’ she bumbled on, feeling inexplicably nervous. ‘The garage said it’ll be ready tomorrow so all’s well that ends –’
‘How did you get here tonight?’ Sam’s voice was deceptively calm. Silence fell on the table and all eyes swung to Katie. Nobody could miss the tension radiating off Sam.
‘I … um … I scooted,’ she told him, her voice trailing off into a whisper as she watched his eyes flash.
‘You scooted?’ he asked in a low tone, and she nodded slowly; by this stage you could hear a pin drop in the crowded room. Katie noticed Rob moving out of the corner of her eye but was too transfixed by Sam’s face to look away. All of a sudden, Sam pushed back violently from the table, his chair scraping loudly on the tiles, and jumped to his feet. ‘Are you out of your tiny mind?’ he yelled, his hand slamming down on the table, making all the plates and cutlery shake for a moment.
‘Sam, mate, calm down,’ Katie heard Rob mutter. She saw him put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, which was shaken off violently.
‘Don’t tell me to calm down, you pussy-whipped piece of shit,’ Sam shouted at Rob, pointing in his face, and several gasps echoed around the table. He turned back to Katie. ‘Do you know how much time and effort I’ve put into keeping you safe?’ he asked, and Katie felt her stomach hollow out.
‘W-what?’ she whispered. ‘I thought … I mean, everyone said that Rob –’
‘God, you’re so gullible as well,’ Sam spat at her. ‘Makes sense really, seeing as for some inexplicable reason whilst tripping along in La-La Everyone-is-Wonderful Katie-Land when you were nineteen goddamn years old, you managed to end up with one of the most dangerous motherfuckers in London. I mean, I know how it ended; I’ve seen the files, but Jesus Christ how did you let yourself get sucked into that particular steaming pile of shit?’
Katie’s face had now lost all colour and she was beginning to feel a little sick. ‘What files? Do you … do you mean police files? How is that even – ?’
‘Legal? No. Doable? Yes. Now answer the fucking question.’
‘R-Rambo, listen, maybe you should –’
‘Russell,’ Sam said, never taking his eyes off Katie. ‘I swear to God if you don’t want to know exactly how lethal my hands can be, you will shut your mouth.’
‘I … I … Daniel seemed nice when I met him.’
Sam snorted, and Katie frowned at him. ‘He did. We were looking for sponsorship for our netball team. We’d gone all over, asking everyone, but you know, female sport actually doesn’t get the kudos it deserves and –’
