Running Strong

by Christy Reece

“I knew I had to make it believable. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t rest until you found us. So I lied. I told you I didn’t want to be with you. That what we had wasn’t real. I said the things I needed to say to keep you from searching for me.”

  “You’ll be glad to know it worked.”

  She didn’t flinch, but she inwardly cringed. She had laid it all out for him, and it still didn’t matter.

  Feeling extraordinarily tired, Giselle dropped onto a small sofa. The painting above the bed, a mountain stream surrounded by spring flowers, soothed her as she spoke about those dark days. “When I found out I was pregnant, we were in the middle of moving to another town.

  “I became ill after breakfast one morning. Mama followed me to the bathroom and asked me if I was pregnant. I think deep down I knew I was but was too afraid to face the truth. We faced it together.” Her mouth trembled, and she worked to keep it firm. “She was…is an amazing woman. She held me, told me everything would be all right.

  “We went together and told the people protecting us. It added a new wrinkle. I needed to see a doctor… There would be medical records, etc. They offered to help me take care of the problem. As if Gio could ever be a problem. I refused the offer, of course.

  “They accepted my decision and made it work. We were able to stay in one place long enough for me to get a regular doctor and have the baby at a hospital in Thomasville, Georgia.”

  “Did you even consider letting me know?”

  “I told you, Raphael. They wouldn’t let me. We were still in hiding. Any contact with our old life might have put us in jeopardy. I couldn’t do that to my family. To my child.”

  “You called me, though. Later.”

  “Yes.”

  “And if I had called you back, things would be different. I would have known about my son.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “And Giovanni wouldn’t be—”

  “Go ahead and say it. It’s true. I failed him. Failed to protect him. My number one job was taking care of my son, and I didn’t do it.”

  “I’m not blaming you for what the Fletchers have done. They—”

  “You should. I certainly do. I never questioned them until it was too late… I always went along, followed. Did what I was told. What is the saying? ‘If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything’? I did not take a stand. I fell for their lies, for Danny’s lies. I was stupid, and my son is paying the price for my stupidity.”

  “You were naïve, not stupid.”

  “Naïveté can’t be an excuse. Not when it comes to being a mother. A mother protects her children, looks out for them. The Fletchers may not be child predators, but they’re predators all the same. My son is in their clutches because of me.”

  “You made a mistake by trusting the wrong people. These people have been manipulating and taking advantage of people for a long time. They’re experts at it.”

  “And I was the clueless, green idiot who fell into their trap.”

  Raphael sat beside her. He was taking a hard look at his own actions, and the harsh truth punched him in the gut. Giselle had owned up to her mistakes. It was time for him to step up and acknowledge his own.

  “It’s just as much my fault as yours… No, it’s more my fault.”

  “How?”

  “I blamed you for leaving. If I had looked hard enough, I would’ve seen through the things you wrote in that letter. Truth is, I used my pride to ignore the truth. You’re right. If I had gone with you, I would never have been able to do the things I wanted. I remember talking incessantly about my goals and dreams. Not once did I consider you or your feelings.”

  “That’s not true. It’s just…” Her smile was sad. “Sometimes what you want and what you can have can’t be the same thing.”

  She had been placed in an impossible position. Young and vulnerable. And heartbroken. The decisions she had made had been made out of love.

  And the pregnancy? That was his fault, too. He had told her he’d take care of the birth control, and he had failed her.

  He imagined how she had felt. Ashamed to tell her mother and terrified to tell the government authorities protecting them. He hadn’t been there to support her, and he should have been. Instead, he’d been on his grand adventure, using his hurt pride to ignore the facts.

  While he had been living out his dreams, she had been living a nightmare.

  He wouldn’t regret the son they made together, but he could damn well own up to his responsibilities.

  He took her hand, marveled at her soft, silky skin. “I’m sorry, Giselle. For not being there for you.”

  “You’re here now.” She leaned her head against his shoulder.

  “Where do we go from here?”

  “We get our son back.”

  For a long while, he held her snuggled against him. The past couldn’t be changed, but they both had a second chance. Nothing could be decided until Giovanni was safe, and then they would see.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  East Hampton, New York

  Today was the day. Giselle sat with Raphael in the back of a white van with the name of the catering company the Fletchers had hired for their party. It had taken multiple conversations to get both Raphael and Noah to the point of agreeing to let her participate. When it came down to it, though, they had realized that having her there when Gio was found just made sense. Her baby would come to her the instant he saw his mama.

  What had happened to Gio while they’d been separated was something she had forced herself not to dwell on. If she had, she wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on anything. She knew the Fletchers would not harm him, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t cause emotional or mental trauma. They had separated a child from his mother. That had to have affected him.

  No, she wouldn’t think about that now. She couldn’t. She had to concentrate on the here and now. Today was the day they would be reunited. And today was the day he would meet his papa for the first time.

  Giovanni knew exactly who his father was. Though her reasons for not contacting Raphael had been valid, she had at least made sure her son knew all about the man who fathered him. Giovanni knew he had been born out of love. He knew that his father was a courageous and strong man who rescued children. Raphael was already Gio’s hero. Today their son would meet his hero for the first time.

  His eyes dark with concern, he asked, “You okay?”

  “I’m good. A little nervous, but mostly good. I just want to get to him as soon as I can.”

  “I know you do.” Raphael squeezed her hand. “But—”

  “I know. I know.” They had gone over the plan numerous times over the last couple of days. “I won’t deviate, I promise. I know the risks.”

  “You look good.”

  She had to laugh at that. Since she hadn’t recognized herself in the mirror, there was no way the Fletchers would have a clue. Cleo, the makeup artist who had made LCR operatives look just like her family, had done an amazing job turning Giselle into someone else, too. The honey-blond wig she wore, along with blue contact lenses, a slightly longer nose, and a few lines at her eyes, made her look at least ten years older. A little extra padding had been added to her breasts and bottom, filling her out in a way that Giselle thought was quite attractive.

  The instant Raphael had seen her, he had given her a look that sent a zing throughout her body. But then he had pulled Cleo aside and talked with her. Giselle had been in the midst of admiring her new, curvier figure when Cleo had approached her with even more padding.

  “Why more?”

  “Raphael made the observation that you need to be more matronly. You need to blend in, not stand out.”

  He had been right. She had seen several catering staff walk into the mansion, and many of them looked just as she did. Having lived with the Fletchers, she knew they looked through servants unless they wanted something. As long as they got what they requested, the servants were dismissed with barely a flicker of acknowle
dgment.

  Once Cleo had finished, she hadn’t recognized the woman in the mirror. She now looked at least two decades older and extremely matronly. No one would know her, including her own son. When she had mentioned her concern, Cleo had encouraged her to remove her wig. When she had, her hair had fallen to her shoulders, and though she had still looked different, she looked enough like herself that Giovanni would recognize his mama.

  Raphael’s transformation was almost as dramatic. Bushy eyebrows, a full beard, and a darkening under his eyes made him look older. The makeup, along with extra padding at his middle, gave him the appearance of an older, less-fit man.

  “You know what to do if something goes wrong, right?”

  “Yes.” She used her other hand to squeeze his hand that was still holding hers. “I’ll be fine. I lived here for almost two years. I know this place well. If there’s trouble, I know where to hide.”

  The plan was simple, but would have to remain fluid. She would work with the catering staff and follow orders. Once the party was in full swing, she would use the servants’ stairway to get to Giovanni’s room.

  The back door of the van opened, and Noah stood there. “Are we ready?”

  “Just about,” Raphael said. Turning back to Giselle, he said quietly, “Remember, any trouble at all, you get the hell out of the way. They can make up any damn story they want and get away with it. Even with hundreds in attendance, covering up a murder would be no trouble for them.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  They stepped out of the van together, and Noah gave them the onceover. “Cleo did a good job, as usual. Wouldn’t recognize either one of you.”

  Raphael was part of the crew hired to do the heavy lifting for the decorating company. Though most of them had arrived yesterday, Raphael had said he’d be able to blend in well enough. All he needed was to get inside.

  Giving her one last encouraging look, Raphael headed toward a group of men unloading chairs from a large truck. Taking a breath, Giselle walked down the sidewalk toward the kitchen.

  This was it. Soon, very soon, she would be seeing her son!

  ***

  Giselle crept to the back stairway. It had taken her much longer to get away than she had anticipated. The head chef had barely even looked at her when he’d put her to work, ordering her to fill pastry puffs with some kind of cream cheese concoction. She had performed her duties, all the while looking for a chance to escape. The giant kitchen had been filled with people, and organized chaos reigned as everyone rushed to do their jobs. When the last puff had been filled and one of the tuxedoed servers had whisked it out of her hand, she had faded quickly into the background. If she wasn’t around, chances were no one would miss her. There were more than enough people to do the various tasks.

  The instant her foot was on the first step, she flew up the stairway as if she had wings. She was only a few seconds away from seeing her son. Her heart pounded with both elation and fear. If she was caught, this would be over, and she would have failed to protect him once again.

  She reached the second landing and ran quickly down the hallway to another stairway that led to the third floor. Noah had assured her the cameras would be down for at least an hour. Though Fletcher’s security people were likely panicking at the malfunction of the cameras, they at least wouldn’t be looking for her or Raphael. Having everyone think they were dead was genius. No one would be looking for intruders to kidnap a child holed away on the third floor, far away from the multitude of guests.

  Her heart still pounding, she almost lost all her composure when she saw who was waiting for her when she reached the door to the third floor. Raphael stood there like a sentinel. Her hero.

  “Any problems?” he asked softly.

  “None. You?”

  “No. I was dismissed until tomorrow.” He reached for her hand, squeezing gently. “You ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Still holding hands, they walked down the hallway together to rescue their son.

  Raphael had faced armed men who had every intention of killing him with less trepidation than he felt right now. He could honestly say that he had never been more nervous in his life. His nerves had nothing to do with getting caught by Fletcher’s security people and everything to do with the fact that he would soon be meeting his son for the first time. How on earth was he going to explain who he was and why he’d never met him before?

  What had Giselle told Giovanni about his father? She had said that he knew Fletcher hadn’t been his dad, but had she told him anything about Raphael? Kids were inquisitive. He had to have asked questions. Did he think his real father had abandoned him?

  At the thought, Raphael glanced over at Giselle, and his heart softened. Her face was glowing with anticipation, with hope. There wasn’t a hint of nervousness in her demeanor. She was a mother about to be reunited with her son.

  They stopped at the door to his room. Getting Olivia inside so she could meet Gio had been a godsend. They wouldn’t have known that his bedroom was on a different floor on the opposite side of the mansion from where it was when Giselle lived here. Having to search for him would have slowed them down, putting everyone at even more risk.

  Before opening the door, she smiled up at him. “Thank you, Raphael. For everything.”

  Squeezing her hand gently, he used his other hand to open the door. Except for a small light coming from the corner of the bedroom, the room was dark. There was a small lump in the bed, and Raphael lost his breath. His son.

  Pulling the wig from her head, Giselle rushed toward the bed.

  “Giselle? What are you doing here?”

  They both whirled at the high-pitched whisper that came from the corner.

  A stocky, middle-aged woman sprang up from a chair. “You’re in danger here. Don’t you know that?”

  “I’ve come for my son, Mavis. Don’t try to stop me.”

  “But Mrs. Fletcher—”

  “He’s my son. Not theirs.”

  “Mommy?”

  “Gio!” Giselle rushed forward and gathered her son into her arms. As much as Raphael wanted to follow her, he stayed on guard. The nanny didn’t look as though she would scream or try to alert anyone, but he would keep an eye on her all the same.

  “Where have you been, Mommy? I’ve missed you.”

  Her voice thick with tears, Giselle laughed softly, “Oh, baby, I’ve missed you, too. But we need to hurry. We’re leaving.”

  As if he realized the urgency, he didn’t argue but jumped out of bed. Giselle grabbed a thick jacket that was lying on a nearby chair. “Here, sweetie. You can keep your pajamas on, but let’s put this on you.”

  While Giselle hurriedly dressed Gio, Raphael stood in the doorway, keeping one eye on the hallway and one eye on the nanny.

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  Giselle stood before him. In her arms was the most beautiful child he’d ever seen in his life. His son.

  “Hello, Papa.”

  Raphael lost his breath. “You know who I am?”

  “You’re my papa.”

  Tears filled Giselle’s eyes. The shock on Raphael’s face was almost her undoing. She had her son in her arms, and he was meeting his father for the first time. Her most heartfelt dreams were coming true.

  “Gio’s known from the beginning who his father is. No one could ever take your place, Raphael.”

  Even though she knew he wanted to hold his son, get to know him, they still needed to get away from the mansion.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  Giselle quickly reinstalled the honey-blond wig and headed toward the door.

  “I want to come, too.”

  Stopping, she glared at the woman she’d believed was her friend. “You betrayed me, Mavis.”

  “I had no choice, Giselle. I didn’t know I was being followed. The man who followed me saw you approach me that day. When Mr. Fletcher found out, he threatened me.”

  This she could believe. And if she was here when
they discovered Gio gone, she would likely be killed.

  “Okay. Let’s go.”

  Raphael walked out first and then motioned for Giselle. Hanging on to her baby with all her might, Giselle ran forward. Mavis followed behind her.

  The party was still going strong. The Fletchers’ choice of music was from their generation and played throughout the house. It was loud enough that any noise they made was easily covered.

  They were almost to the first-floor stairway when things went sour.

  “Hey! Stop right there.”

  They turned to see a large man heading toward them. Giselle didn’t recognize him as one of Fletcher’s regular guards. Perhaps he had been hired as an extra for the occasion. Whether he was permanent or only a temp, she didn’t know. The gun in his hand said either way he took his job seriously.

  Making sure Giselle and Gio were behind him, Raphael held his gun on the man as he spoke into the mic on his lapel. “Giselle, Gio, and the nanny are headed your way.”

  Her heart stuttered. What did he mean? “Raphael?”

  “Go on, Giselle,” he said calmly. “Head the way we practiced. Someone from LCR will be waiting for you.”

  Knowing she had no other choice, she said softly, “We’ll see you soon.”

  Holding Gio closer, she ran down the stairway and into the kitchen. The doorway was open, and she ran through it just as they’d discussed. She figured Mavis was behind her, but didn’t stop to check. She didn’t know if she believed her story or not, but that would have to wait for later.

  She was running down the sidewalk, seconds away from freedom, when something grabbed at her shirt. She whirled and faced her worst nightmare. Refusing to back down, she put Gio on his feet, pushing him behind her.

  Before she could speak, something hit her temple. Giselle felt herself falling and heard Gio scream, “Mommy!”

  And then everything went dark.

  Chapter Thirty-eight