Ruins (The Jewel Project #6)

35. Putting Pieces Back Together

There was a moment in which Sam hoped he had imagined the knock on the door. Everyone stayed quiet and frozen, none of them even daring to breathe. But there was no such luck. In no time at all, the door opened and footsteps could be heard on the narrow hall.

Kyle let Kay go and pushed off the wall at the same time Jimmy turned towards the entrance, fists raised.

"Hey guys."

Every muscle in Sam's body tensed at the voice. Rage, bitterness, sorrow. Everything rushed through him a moment before Harry James made his way inside the room with them. He wore a black suit and white shirt, his hands behind his back. He looked so odd, so clean and healthy.

Christine's grip on Sam's knee tightened and all his hard feelings towards his former best friend fell upon him like a wet, uncomfortable blanket.

"What the hell are you doing here?" The words were out before Sam could stop them, a lot more belligerent than they should be.

Harry froze in the entrance to the hallway, the tentative smile on his face sliding off. Watching him, Sam realized what was going on, but he didn't want to believe it. It should have been Herrison instead of him. The Agency had no morals, no sense of decency, sending the son to do what the dead father could not.

"Didn't you guys send the distress signal so that we'd come get you?" Harry asked, a note of disdain in his voice.

Sam froze, all sorrow retreating inside him for later. The only one who still had a watch was Jessie, but even so, they weren't routed to provide the Agency with signals. And Sam was sure none of them had called the cavalry over.

"Yes, we did," Angie said, surprisingly. Sam noticed her tightening her hold on Tom's arm as if to make sure he wouldn't open his mouth to blow it.

"Took you long enough," Kay said with a huff, immediately jumping on board.

Harry grinned, once again comfortable with his role in all this. "You guys look like shit."

"Wow, Harry. Sensitive," Tom said, rolling his eyes. "Mature."

Harry was no longer listening. His gaze had moved from the people in the room to the giant green jewel on the kitchen table. His eyes widened, and he took a step inside the room. Sam had to fight the impulse to grab the thing and shove it back in his pocket. It was no use. They knew they had it and he'd have to give it up unless they really wanted to die and be left to rot in that little house.

"I can't believe you managed to get one," Harry said. "May I?"

Hating Harry and himself and the fates that had brought them here, Sam snarled, but handed it over. It took his former best friend less than a thirty seconds to turn it on all sides, then make it disappear inside him own coat pocket.

"I think you're more than ready to go home," he said, his voice cheery, as if to overcompensate for all the hatred against him filling the room.

"How many men are with you?" Kyle asked.

Harry couldn't hide a tiny shudder. Kyle's face was full of blood splatters after all. "A few. Why?"

He wasn't alone, and that was what Kyle had meant to confirm. There was no way they were ambushing him now. Harry had a point. They did need to get home. And talking, deciding, could wait. They needed everyone for that. And Sam needed to get to Sammy.

"So they can help us get out of here," he answered, getting to his feet. Christine followed, her hand moving to his shoulder.

Harry stared at her for a moment, but then decided to act as if she wasn't there. "Sure," he said. "Some of you really look like you need a hospital." He glanced from Tom, who needed Jerry and Angie to stand, to Jimmy who was still covered in blood.