Behind His Eyes Convicted: The Missing Years

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Behind His Eyes Convicted: The Missing Years Page 1

by Aleatha Romig




  BEHIND HIS EYES—CONVICTED: THE MISSING YEARS

  Published by Aleatha Romig

  2014 Edition

  Copyright ©2014 Aleatha Romig

  ISBN e-book: 978-0-9914011-2-3

  Editing: Lisa Aurello

  Formatting: Angela McLaurin – Fictional Formats

  Cover artist: Melissa Ringuette

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is available in print from most online retailers

  2014 Edition License

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the appropriate retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  EPILOGUE

  GLOSSARY OF CONSEQUENCE SERIES CHARACTERS

  THE CONSEQUENCES SERIES TIMELINE

  BOOKS BY ALEATHA ROMIG

  ALEATHA ROMIG

  WHAT TO READ AFTER THE CONSEQUENCES SERIES

  Thank you to all of you who’ve made this incredible journey with me. Thank you for loving Tony, or hating Tony, for loving Claire, or hating Claire. It has been your emotion that has propelled me to continue this story from behind HIS eyes. You will never know how much your messages have meant and continue to mean to me.

  Thank you also to my wonderful team. I began the Consequences journey one night alone at my computer. Today I’m not only surrounded by a wonderfully supportive family, I also have some of the best betas, a fantastic editor, and a wonderful formatter. Without these supportive people my final product would not be the same.

  Thank you to all of my author friends, those I see and those I know in great online groups. I have learned so much from each and every one of you!

  Thank you to the fantastic bloggers who have not only read, but loved my stories and felt passionate enough about them to tell others! I’m always so glad to meet and hug you in person. I truly believe that without you, only my mother and her friends would have read Consequences.

  My sincerest thank you goes to my readers. This book is for you. I almost didn’t finish it. I admit in many ways it was the most difficult and I believe, my most beloved. I hope you all enjoy the missing years and the future.

  As I have done since my second book, I must thank Claire Nichols and Anthony Rawlings. You have taken permanent residence in my heart and soul. I never imagined the amazing roller coaster we would ride together, and though it has turned my life upside down, I wouldn’t trade a moment. Though this series is COMPLETELY done, Tony and Claire, you will live forever in my heart and the hearts of thousands and thousands of the best readers that an author could hope to find.

  The CONSEQUENCES series contains dark adult content. Although there is not excessive use of description and detail, the content contains innuendos of kidnapping, rape, and abuse—both physical and mental. If you’re unable to read this material, please do not purchase. If you are ready, welcome aboard and enjoy the ride! ~Aleatha Romig

  Dear Readers,

  When I began writing this last book of the CONSEQUENCES SERIES, I planned to write a companion; however, my characters informed me otherwise. BEHIND HIS EYES CONVICTED: THE MISSING YEARS grew into a full-length novel giving you the complete story of what was only mentioned in CONVICTED. It begins at the fateful gunshot and goes into the future. Unlike the other Behind His Eyes, THE MISSING YEARS is told from the point of view of many of the male characters—the HIS is plural.

  THE MISSING YEARS has become book 4 of the CONSEQUENCES SERIES. Therefore, once you have completed CONSEQUENCES, TRUTH, AND CONVICTED, please join me for the missing years. Take a dark journey into the minds of multiple men and learn firsthand about the man who believes that he controls everything and controls nothing. The man who needs to protect. The one who has taken an oath to do what is right. The one who has always been true and the one who learns to forgive.

  Join me for a story that all began with the man who…

  Once upon a time, signed a napkin that he knew was a contract. As an esteemed businessman, he forgot one very important rule—he forgot to read the fine print. It wasn’t an acquisition to own another person as he’d previously assumed. It was an agreement to acquire a soul.

  —Aleatha Romig, CONVICTED

  The end of this final conclusion contains a glossary of characters and a timeline of significant events for the entire CONSEQUENCES Series.

  The reading companions, BEHIND HIS EYES CONSEQUENCES and BEHIND HIS EYES TRUTH are not full books. They were written as an adjunct to CONSEQUENCES and TRUTH. Books 1.5 and 2.5 are already available through most online channels.

  Please note that I would never have completed this story had it not been for you!

  Thank you again for your support!

  ~Aleatha Romig

  For the first time in his life he’d dared to believe in happily-ever-after. He learned at a young age it was unattainable. Therefore, he’d never even tried… until Claire.

  —Aleatha Romig, Truth

  Tony’s heart melted as Nichol’s soft mews filled their suite, a contrast to the whish-whish of waves lapping the shore. Together the sounds created the perfect melody for the middle of the night. He kissed Claire’s forehead and watched the tired emerald disappear behind her closed eyes while their daughter’s little body wiggled in his large hands. Stretching contently, she relaxed as he pulled her against his broad chest. Settling into the rocking chair in the nursery, Tony watched Nichol’s long lashes flutter as she fought the sleepy lids that threatened to cover her dark chocolate eyes. After a few moments of monotonous rocking, her tiny nose nestled into his soft cotton t-shirt, and sleep won, as she lost her fight with one final sigh.

  He could return her to her crib and climb back into bed with Claire, but, instead, Tony continued to rock. The silver rays of moonlight through the open doors to the lanai illuminated their bed, allowing him to watch his sleeping wife. Nichol’s feeding schedule had yet to work itself out, and Claire was beyond exhausted. It seemed that their daughter had a ravenous hunger, one that perhaps surpassed her mother’s before Nichol was born.

  A grin materialized as Tony remembered Claire eating for two. With Nichol present, and demanding to eat every two to three hours, he understood why Claire had been so hungry. Loosening the pink blanket, T
ony reached for Nichol’s hand. Her little fingers grasped one of his and he gently caressed her soft skin. As the scent of baby lotion filled his senses, Tony realized that in a little over two weeks, Nichol had infiltrated every part of their lives.

  There were chairs that rocked and swayed. They called them swings, but to Tony they were more like mechanical seats that played lullabies or made white noise, depending upon the button pushed. He didn’t care how many swings or cradles Nichol had: he’d rather hold her safely in his arms. Although Claire claimed he was spoiling their daughter, he’d caught her doing the same thing more than once.

  Everyone on the island was smitten and held captive by the beautiful brunette in Tony’s arms. Francis and Madeline were more like doting grandparents than employees. Though they never had children themselves, they were well-versed and experienced in anything baby. It was comforting to have the benefit of their knowledge when questions arose. Madeline had been the one to give Tony his first lesson in diapering. It was even before Claire met their daughter. Her encouraging words gave him the confidence to wrap the fabric around her tiny body. She seemed so small that Tony wasn’t sure he could do it.

  “Oui, Monsieur, that is right. She will not break. Oui, lift her legs…”

  Never had Tony envisioned taking instructions from a member of his staff, yet with each word, Tony willingly accepted the role of student.

  One evening, when nothing seemed to settle Nichol’s cries, it was again Madeline who came to the rescue. At that moment, both Tony and Claire would have willingly allowed Madeline to do her magic, but that wasn’t what she did. Or perhaps it was. Yet the magic wasn’t performed on Nichol but instead on her parents—the magic to empower.

  Although Francis and Madeline had retired to their home for the night, Tony wasn’t surprised that Madeline had heard Nichol’s protests through the still of the night. After all, Tony had spent hours walking her up and down the lanai, bouncing her gently as he’d been taught. Their daughter wasn’t having any of it—nothing would satisfy. Even nursing didn’t help. Nichol would begin to eat and then stop, crying and moving her face from side to side. With Claire’s sleep deprivation, she too was on the verge of tears—past the verge. Though she’d tried to hide it, Tony saw the evidence on her cheeks.

  With Claire in the living room and Tony walking the length of the lanai, he was startled at the touch to his shoulder. Quickly turning around, he found Madeline.

  “Monsieur, she is hungry? No?”

  “No, I mean, I don’t know. Claire’s tried to feed her, but after a few suckles, she started crying again.”

  “Madame el? Or Nichol?”

  Tony grinned. “Both.”

  “Bring her inside. The breeze is too strong.”

  Willingly, he followed Madeline to the living room.

  “Madame el, let me get you something to eat.”

  Claire shook her head as her red, puffy eyes looked up from her lap. “No, Madeline, I’m not hungry. I just don’t know what to do.”

  “Oui, you do. What does she want?”

  “I don’t know,” Claire confessed. “Her diaper is clean. I’ve tried to feed her. She doesn’t want that. I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “You can,” Madeline replied matter-of-factly. “When did she last eat?”

  “It was before dinner.” Claire looked down. “I feel like I’m about to explode.”

  Tony stood helplessly as his daughter continued to cry and his wife declared her insecurities. Truth be told, he felt the same way. “Maybe you should—” Tony began as he started to hand Nichol to Madeline.

  “Oh, no,” Madeline said, waving him off. “She doesn’t need me. She needs you—both of you.” With that, Madeline disappeared into the kitchen, and Tony sat down next to Claire.

  Although Nichol was still crying, it was Claire whom Tony wanted to help. He pulled her closer.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t…”

  “Shhh,” he whispered as he kissed the top of her head. He wanted to lift her chin and see her beautiful eyes. It didn’t matter to him that they were red. All that mattered was that they were before him. “Look at me. I don’t have enough hands to lift your chin.”

  Claire shook her head against his chest. “No, I look awful, and I’m a terrible mother.”

  Tony released his embrace and tenderly pulled Claire’s chin upward. “You are and always will be the most beautiful woman in the world. Well…” He grinned. “…you do have a little competition now, but in my eyes you’ll always win.” Gently using his thumb, he wiped the tears from her cheeks. “You’re an amazing mother. Remember we said we were going to learn this parenting thing together? Don’t you dare give up. My wife is not a quitter. You may remember that I have a rule about failure. We, my dear, won’t fail. We’re tired and our daughter has a stubborn streak.”

  Claire’s weary eyes sparkled. “I wonder where she gets that.”

  “Well, we could debate that all night, but I’d put my money on you.”

  “Oh really, Mr. Rawlings. If you did, I believe I’d have even more of your fortune.”

  “You can have whatever you want. It’s already yours.”

  “Sleep…” Claire yawned. “…I want sleep.”

  “All right, you can’t have that yet.” Tony glanced down to Nichol. Her cries were mere whimpers as she rooted against his chest.

  Madeline entered the quieter living room with a sandwich and a glass of juice. “Madame el, this is for you. Eat and drink and then you will be ready to give Nichol what she needs.”

  Claire nodded and took the glass as Madeline set the plate on the table beside her. After a long drink, she said, “Thank you, Madeline. I didn’t even realize I was thirsty.”

  Tony slowly rocked Nichol while Claire ate. When she was done, Claire leaned back and unbuttoned her blouse. Handing their daughter to his wife, Tony’s gaze went from Claire’s eyes to her breast and back again.

  Exhaling, Claire positioned Nichol and smiled a sly grin. “You’re incorrigible. Do you know that?”

  “What?” Tony tried for his most innocent look. “What did I do?”

  Before she could answer, they all stopped and stared at their contented baby girl. Nichol’s eyes closed as she eagerly nursed. The whole room held their breath, waiting for the next eruption of crying, but it didn’t occur, even whilst Claire burped Nichol and switched sides. Nichol didn’t complain. By the time she was satisfied, Madeline was gone. When Tony realized that they were alone, he moved closer and once again wrapped Claire’s shoulders in his embrace. “Do you think Madeline sprinkled some kind of fairy dust to calm Nichol down?”

  “No, I think she calmed us down, which in turn calmed Nichol.”

  “See, what did I say? You’re a great mother.”

  Claire kissed his cheek. “And you’re a great father. I guess we can do this.”

  “Together and one day at a time.”

  Neither one mentioned Tony’s impending deal with the FBI. They didn’t want anything to upset them or Nichol as she finally rested contently in her mother’s arms.

  Helping with the feedings, especially those in the middle of the night, was Tony’s part of together. Through trial and error, they learned that allowing Claire to rest when she could, eased some of her stress, which made Nichol more relaxed. Tony had never been one who needed a lot of sleep, and without a doubt, he grew to love his alone time with their daughter. The fact that it helped both of his ladies to flourish was a mere bonus.

  The doctor had been to the island the day before and acted very pleased with both Claire’s recovery and Nichol’s progress. Sometimes they forgot that she was born earlier than expected.

  Nichol’s little face scrunched and her lips formed a silent O before her contented expression returned. Did babies dream? What could they possibly dream about? Her entire life consisted of eating, sleeping, and soiling her diaper. None of that seemed like the material of dreams, in Tony’s opini
on. Closing his eyes and maintaining the chair’s movement, he contemplated his dream.

  He was living it, and it was grander than any dream he’d ever imagined.

  His envelope was full.

  It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light.

  —Aristotle Onassis

  It has been said that everyone gets to experience a moment: an instant when clouds part, fog clears, and the world makes sense. Whether that moment reveals the meaning of all life or merely the meaning to personal existence, during that second in time when heavenly beams of light reach down and illuminate the world, the one true matter of importance in one’s life is revealed.

  Perhaps it was God’s way of opening one’s eyes, or perhaps it was fate’s way of twisting a knife. No matter the cause, for Anthony Rawlings that moment of clarity occurred in the midst of chaos. As icy water fell from the ceiling of his home office, as smoke billowed through the vents and down the corridors, and as voices of unseen faces clamored for attention, Tony’s world became crystal clear. The only true meaning in his life was his family: Claire and Nichol.

  He’d told his wife to stay away from the estate. It hadn’t been debatable. He and Claire had discussed their shared need to keep Nichol safe—at any cost. However, admittedly during those discussions, Tony had yet to truly comprehend the depth of Catherine’s depravity. It wasn’t until he pushed his onetime confidant into a dissertation of confessions that Tony recognized her limitless boundaries and capacity for evil.

  With that newfound knowledge of murders where Tony had thought fate intervened, and years of manipulation where he’d seen friendship, Tony knew that he never wanted his family near the woman he’d trusted for most of his life. For the first time since Nathaniel had uttered the words, they will pay, their children will pay, and their children’s children, everything was crystal clear. Tony finally understood his unwanted definition: he and Claire were both children of children. Nichol was doubly so. Later, he would reflect on how Claire had tried to explain it to him. Perhaps he hadn’t been ready to understand. Now he was.

 

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