Triumph (The Bellator Saga Book 6)

by Cecilia London

  Marguerite cautiously shook Natalie’s outstretched hand, looking back and forth between her mother and Christine. Yeah, this was probably a little overwhelming. “All good things, I assume?”

  “Of course.” Natalie turned to the younger child. “You must be Sophie.”

  Sophie threw her arms around Natalie. “Hi.”

  “She’s not as shy as she used to be,” Caroline said.

  Natalie returned the hug. “I can see that.” She looked over Sophie’s shoulder. “And of course you’re Christine,” she said.

  “Careful,” Caroline said. “She bites.”

  “Oh, I do not.” Christine extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “I understand you’re a doctor, too.” Natalie winked at her. “Trust me to show you the ropes around this place?”

  “I’m sure I can figure it out on my own.”

  Damn. Cold, aloof, and distant. Had Christine regressed on the flight?

  Caroline patted her arm. “Of course you can, Chrissy. But Natalie is a wonderful worker bee. She’ll have you running the show in no time.”

  Christine straightened. “I’m not rushing into anything.” Her expression softened, but her voice didn’t. “I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. I’ll tell Natalie all about the real you.”

  Oh. That was it. A little bit of possessiveness, which was fine. Losing consciousness and insane jealousy seemed like appropriate tokens of friendship to Caroline. She’d take them.

  “I suppose you need to get them settled,” Natalie said. “Call me later?”

  Caroline gave her another hug. “Sure.”

  *****

  Christine swiped a finger across the kitchen counter. “This is clean enough.”

  “Do you require a housekeeper?”

  “I’ll manage.”

  “Hard to leave those high thread count sheets behind, wasn’t it?”

  “I brought them with me.”

  Caroline couldn’t tell if she was kidding or not. “This place isn’t so bad. You’ll get used to it.”

  “I’m not sure I want to. I don’t want to become complacent.”

  “That’s deep, Chrissy. Real deep.”

  “Glad you can catch my metaphors.” Christine kicked her feet up on the coffee table as Caroline laughed. “What?”

  “Already acting like you own the place. You’re going to intimidate the hell out of everyone.”

  “Am I that unapproachable?”

  “You scare the shit out of me most of the time. Even when you’re trying to pretend you’re all relaxed.”

  “Really?”

  Caroline smiled back at her. “Not really. But I can see how other people could be frightened of you. You’re very direct.”

  “So are you.”

  “Not in the same way.”

  “Natalie seems quite vivacious.”

  A word Caroline hadn’t heard in a while, yet it applied. Maybe this was an opportunity to remind Christine to give her a chance. “She is. She gets along with everyone, too.”

  Christine tapped her heel on the coffee table. “If she likes me I’ll find her character highly questionable.”

  “I like you. Does that mean I have no morals?”

  “No comment.”

  Caroline put her feet up on the coffee table, playfully kicking at Christine’s shoes. “Nice pumps.”

  “Don’t even think about marking them up with those terrible boots.”

  “I won’t.” She laughed. “I really like new Chrissy.”

  “I do too.”

  *****

  A soft kiss. Then another. And another. Caroline sat up, her book tumbling to the floor. “Did I fall asleep?”

  Jack kissed her again. “For a bit. It’s okay.”

  Not when she’d been promised a night of wanton marital intercourse. “What time is it?”

  “Time to do naughty things.” He tugged at the covers. “Are you naked?”

  “I intended to get dressed after doing a little reading. Guess my eyes got tired.”

  “I see no need for clothes.” He nipped at her neck. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Caroline.”

  “Just fondle my hair and get it over with.”

  He patted her head. “Oh, the things I could do to you.”

  “Are you talking to me or the hair?”

  Jack pinned her down on the bed. “Both.”

  Caroline tried to talk in between kisses. “You know,” she said. “The hair thing is weird.”

  “Hush.”

  “I mean, it’s just a color, right?”

  Jack propped up on one elbow. “You don’t feel different?”

  “Am I acting different?”

  He pinned her down again. “You’ve been assertive as hell. Has to be the hair.”

  Maybe it was more than appearance. Maybe it was just being herself again, slowly but steadily. But if he thought it was the hair, so be it. “I love you,” she whispered.

  “And I missed you,” he said. “Haven’t had much alone time lately.”

  She unbuttoned his shirt. “Are we going to make up for that?”

  “All night, if I have anything to say about it.”

  She didn’t want him to say another word until he was naked and inside her, so she let her hands do the talking. The little touches. The teases. Slipping her fingers under his waistband, undoing his pants, relishing every bit of foreplay. Caroline kissed the top of his hand, near his wedding ring. “I want this back.”

  “Getting laid might make me amenable to that request. Right now I’m enjoying a reminder of why I’m so damn happy it’s on my finger in the first place.” He rested on his haunches, peeling the covers away from her. “Still yearning for another spanking?”

  She spread her legs. “I’ve got other things in mind.”

  Jack licked his lips. “So do I.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Marguerite began some basic military training on the condition she keep up with her schoolwork and cooperate with any orders she was given, even if they were contrary to her wishes. Which was, frankly, in line with proper protocol. If Jack and Caroline indulged her a little, maybe she’d stop persistently requesting to be assigned to a combat unit.

  Sophie maintained her studies as well, with Christine and Natalie helping with lessons when they weren’t on duty. Christine had a unique schedule – she spent half her time with Caroline and Jack as a liaison and advisor, and the other half on call at the infirmary. She and the girls stopped by Caroline and Jack’s apartment every night to catch up on the day’s activities and forget their worries for an hour or two.

  “Savoie contacted me today,” Christine said one night after dinner. “International support is growing. He’ll be sending some encrypted, classified documents to Schroeder tomorrow morning. I think he wants to deploy a few Canadian military personnel here, if that meets with your approval.”

  “I’ll ask Jack,” Caroline said. “But it makes sense. We’ll have them coordinate with our guys accumulating data in Washington. Schroeder hasn’t said much, but I get the feeling something big has been happening. I’d ask for more details but he never likes to tell us anything unless it’s more reliable than not.”

  “Been burned a lot?”

  “When Jack first got here, there was a ton of bad intel coming through. Contradictory stuff. Giving unrealistic hope one day and dashing it the next. The senior advisors found it frustrating so Schroeder started screening it better. Separating the wheat from the chaff. It took a while to find reliable people, make sure they were in the right spots, that sort of thing.”

  “You seem to know a lot about this.”

  “Not enough. Maybe if I’d done more when we were in Harrisburg-”

  Christine waved her hand. “Don’t get started on that again. No point in focusing on the past. You can’t undo it. You can only more forward.”

  “That sounds like something Natalie would say.”

  Christine averted her eyes. “Well, I’ve been ta
lking to her a lot lately.”

  “Like, officially?”

  “In a therapeutic capacity, yes.”

  That was a tad surprising. “And?”

  “It’s been helping.”

  Natalie would be kind. And gentle. And Christine would have responded. “I’m glad.”

  “I think you should know, though. I told her during our first session that I had you first so she can’t go thinking she’s supplanted me or anything.”

  “You did not say that.”

  “I did.”

  Wow, she wasn’t joking. Caroline wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or amused. “I guess that’s progress. You talking about your feelings and all.”

  “I guess.” Christine rubbed her forehead. “We had an interesting discussion today. Natalie thinks I should contact Susannah.”

  Made sense. Dr. Haddad would have done her best to convince Christine that her silence over the past two years had been more of a burden than a blessing. For both her and Susannah. “Jack and I have a secure line. You could call her.”

  “I know. I have her number. I just-”

  She was nervous though she had no need to be. “She’s going to be happy to hear from you,” Caroline said. “You know she is.”

  “You have a lot more confidence than I do.”

  “Just call her. You’ll feel better.”

  “She’s at work right now.”

  Caroline glanced at the clock across the room. “Huh, we are keeping late hours. It’s what, a nine hour difference?”

  “Yes.” Christine hesitated. “I was hoping you’d call her for me.”

  How the hell was she going to swing that? “Chrissy, I don’t think that’s appropriate. You should call her.”

  Christine looked a little sheepish. “No, that’s not what I mean. You speak French. What if someone else answers? I won’t know what to say. Literally.”

  She’d probably be able to fumble through a call. “Is this the only reason you hung out with me tonight?”

  “Caroline, do not make me smack you. I know I have joked about it before but this time I really mean it.”

  Therapy couldn’t cure everything; Caroline knew that. Christine was legitimately terrified about speaking to her daughter. It would be wrong to poke fun at her further. “Okay,” she said. “Give me the number already. I hope I remember how to parle.”

  Christine rummaged around in her purse, pulling out a small slip of paper. “Everything is correct, including country code.”

  Caroline picked up the phone and rang the number. “It’s connecting.”

  “Will anyone wonder why the hell you’re calling France?”

  Schroeder monitored the records. He’d ask questions if something appeared off. “I’m good at talking my way out of stuff.”

  A perky voice picked up on the third ring and spoke in rambling French. Caroline racked her brain, trying to remember basic pleasantries. Christine grabbed her hand as she spoke.

  “Bonjour,” Caroline said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “Est Susannah Rosenthal disponible, s'il vous plaît?”

  The perky voice grew a bit more professional. “Puis-je lui dire qui appelle?”

  Crap. They probably should have drawn up a plan before calling willy-nilly. Caroline covered the phone. “Her secretary wants to know who’s on the line,” she whispered. “What do I say?”

  Christine shook her head back and forth. Christ, she really was nervous. “I don’t want to say it’s me.”

  “Why the hell not? You’d better give me an answer or I’m going to say it’s Mommie Dearest.”

  “Angela Daring. That’s one of her best friends from law school.”

  “Her last name is really Daring?”

  “Just hush and tell that woman before she hangs up on you,” Christine said.

  Caroline got back on the phone. “Angela Daring,” she said breathlessly. “De l'école de droit.”

  The receptionist’s tone was a little less welcoming this time. “Un moment,” she said, and put her on hold.

  “Shit,” Caroline said. “She might know I’m bullshitting her.”

  “You’re doing great.”

  “I should have totally said Mommie Dearest.”

  “Quiet.”

  The hold music ended and a flustered, familiar voice started speaking to her in rapid French. Caroline couldn’t quite make out what was being said. Something about Bermuda and harassment and something else she couldn’t quite catch. It sounded suspiciously close to the French expression for a female dog. Instead of trying to follow she decided to interrupt.

  “Susannah, stop,” she said.

  “Excuse me?” Susannah asked. “Who is this? I know it’s not Angela. What do you want? I’m sick of being bothered by you people.”

  “What is she saying?” Christine whispered.

  Caroline waved her off. “She’s upset about something.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Susannah asked. “Who is this?”

  She had to tell the truth, even though it sounded like Susannah was about to hang up on her. “It’s Caroline,” she said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You know who it is. You recognize my voice.”

  “This isn’t funny. I want you people to leave me alone.”

  “Please don’t hang up. It’s me, Caroline. Look, I have someone here who wants to talk to you.” She grabbed Christine’s hand. “It’s very important that you listen to me. Are you on a secure line?”

  “I think so. But-”

  “Do you believe me?”

  “A dead woman is calling my phone. So, not so much.”

  Susannah had inherited Christine’s characteristic candor. “I’m not dead,” Caroline said. “It’s a long story. Who’s been harassing you?”

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  Caroline closed her eyes as Christine squeezed her hand. “Because I’m sitting next to your mother.”

  Her voice changed. “That isn’t funny. I don’t know who this is, but-”

  “Please let me put her on the phone. She really wants to talk to you.”

  Caroline pulled the phone away from her ear as Susannah’s voice continued to rise. “My mother is dead,” she said.

  “No, she’s not. Please, just hear me out.” Caroline handed the phone to Christine. “Go ahead, Chrissy.”

  “I can’t-”

  “Do it before she slams the phone down. Seriously.”

  Christine put the phone to her ear. “Susannah?” she said quietly. “It’s mom.” She reached for Caroline’s hand again and started squeezing it even tighter than she had before. “Don’t hang up. Please.”

  She was silent for a moment. Caroline could make out Susannah’s voice, but not the words.

  “No, it’s me,” Christine whispered. “I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier but…I don’t have a lot of time to explain it. I don’t want to say too much in case you’re being watched. But I wanted to let you know I was safe.” She listened for another moment and bit her lip. “No, Susie. Daddy and Jess aren’t with me. They’re…not here anymore.” Another pause. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  It was a short conversation, maybe ten or fifteen minutes. Christine was gripping Caroline’s hand so tightly that she thought she might break a bone. Caroline tried not to eavesdrop but still caught details about grandchildren. About life in Paris. About missing home. And she would have loved to let Christine keep talking all night, but safety was always paramount. She motioned for Christine to wrap it up.

  “I have to go,” Christine said. “I’m sorry I can’t talk longer. But it might not be safe. I hope you understand.” Her voice broke. “I love you.” She handed the phone back to Caroline. “She wants to talk to you,” she said, and started crying.

  Caroline put the phone to her ear. “Susannah? Are you still there?”

  Susannah took a deep breath. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”

  Caroline let out a giddy laugh. She and Susannah weren’t c
lose but she sounded so happy she couldn’t help herself. “Yeah.”

  “I don’t want the details.”

  “You’re right. You don’t,” she said.

  “I’m sorry I called you a bitch earlier.”

  “I thought I caught some profanity. Glad to know your French skills are all-encompassing.”

  “Is mom okay? She seems a little off.”

  Christine leaned into her shoulder, and Caroline put her arm around her. “She’ll be fine,” she said. “She’s just tired. I’ll stay with her for a while.”

  “This is, um, kind of weird.”

  Caroline chuckled. “Welcome to my life. Listen, I need you to do something. Your mother is safe with me. I want you to know that. But I think it’s best if you don’t tell anyone about this conversation. Not even Jacob. Understand?”

  “Where are you?”

  “I don’t want to say. Keep your family safe. Act like nothing has changed. We’ll be in touch again when the time is right.”

  “What if I need to get ahold of you?”

  A valid question. She’d have to give their French contacts a heads up. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll find a way to do it so you’re the only one who knows. Okay?”

  “Caroline, I’m glad you’re – I’m glad. And tell my mother I love her.”

  Caroline instinctively hugged Christine. “I will. Are you going to be okay if we hang up?”

  “I think so. It was hard to hear about Daddy and Jess.”

  “They died saving my children,” Caroline said quietly. “And your mother.”

  “I’m not surprised. They were always-” She coughed. “I’d expect nothing less.”

  Caroline felt a little badly that Susannah had to hang up and hold her emotions inside, keeping a secret she couldn’t tell. Crying for the father and sister who’d been taken from her too soon, even if for an honorable reason. At least Christine had the benefit of sympathetic physical comfort. “I – I want you to know I’m going to keep an eye on your mom.”

  “I appreciate it. I know your French is rusty, but I bet you’ll understand this. Merci de prendre soin de mon cœur. Ma mère.”

  Caroline swallowed hard. “Ce n’est rien. Can we stop talking in French now? We’re making your mother nervous.”