Beautifully Broken (The Broken Series Book 2)

by Ruff, K. S.

  I stopped abruptly. “Those gardens still exist?”

  Michael nodded. “Yes, of course. The gardens are in Giverny, just outside Claude Monet’s home. It is a bit of a drive, but I can easily arrange a tour of the gardens.”

  I threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you, Michael! I would love to go there.”

  Michael looked surprised by the hug. Then, in complete disregard for the thousands of people milling around us, he yanked me back into his arms and kissed me long and hard. I could barely stand by the time he was done kissing me.

  Rafael tried not to laugh as I fought to regain my composure.

  Michael wrapped his arm around my waist and navigated me toward the car. “Where would you like to go next?”

  “The Eiffel Tower,” I responded breathlessly. I felt like I was raiding a coffee shop. There were so many places to choose from. I knew I’d eventually need Michael’s help sorting through the options, but on this day, at least, I had some control over what I was doing.

  The Eiffel Tower was less than fifteen minutes away. Jean and Rafael bypassed the long line at the base of the Eiffel Tower and engaged in some negotiations with the man running the elevators. Somehow, they managed to ensure the four of us were in the very next elevator alone.

  The Eiffel Tower was far taller than I had imagined and surprisingly windy at the top. Michael easily located his house. He identified a number of landmarks for me as we peered over each side of the observation deck.

  Later that night, I sat captivated by Michael’s stories about the culture and history of France. We sipped on wine and ate Nicoise Salad in our usual place by the fire. The salad was an incredible concoction of tuna, tomatoes, green beans, capers, baby potatoes, sliced red onion, hard boiled eggs, and small buttery tasting black olives, which were decoratively displayed on a bed of butter lettuce.

  We didn’t climb into bed until we had finished the entire bottle of wine. I shared stories from my time in the U.S. Senate while indulging Michael in his request for a back massage. When I grew too tired to continue the massage, Michael propped himself on one arm and drew intricate designs on my back with his fingers.

  “Can I ask you something?” I inquired sleepily. The question niggling at my mind was the one thing preventing me from falling asleep.

  “Bien sûr, mon coeur. You can ask me anything,” Michael murmured as he continued drawing on my back.

  “When you were buying all of these things for me…” I paused nervously, suddenly afraid to ask.

  “Hmmm?” Michael responded, completely lost in his ministrations.

  “…did you happen to purchase birth control?” I winced as I asked the question. I had been on birth control in Virginia and had already missed days of the little white pills.

  Michael’s hand stilled. He rolled me over onto my back, then blanketed my body with his. He captured my face with both of his hands and gazed into my eyes.

  My breath caught. My entire body clenched, then flooded with heat as his body hardened against mine. I silently cursed all three glasses of wine.

  Michael’s eyes searched mine. “Non, ma chérie. There will be no birth control. I dream of having bébés with you. Don’t you want children?”

  My heart came to an abrupt stop. “Yes,” I admitted warily. “But I would prefer to be married before I start having babies.”

  Michael smiled. “We can be married tomorrow.”

  I stilled, knowing I was on dangerous ground. “Michael, I’m not ready to be married.”

  Michael’s smile widened. “We won’t marry until you’re ready, but there will be no birth control. On this I will not negotiate.” Michael kissed me before I could argue the point further. “Mon coeur, you need to leave this to God. He will decide when we have bébés.”

  I tried not to panic as my stomach fell out of the bed and rolled across the floor. I had completely forgotten that Michael was Catholic. We stopped short of having sex in Montana because he didn’t have a condom. I hadn’t realized he wasn’t carrying one because he didn’t believe in birth control.

  Michael offered me a chaste kiss before rolling over and tucking my back against his chest. “Bonne nuit, mon amour. Sleep well.”

  Sleep well… I thought, darn well near hysterics. There would be no sleeping well. That much I did know. My brain went around and around this new development and the consequences of having sex with Michael. I had decided to give this man everything he wanted, never in a million years thinking that might involve a child.

  Chapter 12 - When you’re gone

  Kadyn was sitting at a small wicker table outside the Carlyle Grand. He often brought Kri here for breakfast on Saturdays. It was a gloriously sunny day with very little humidity, which was quite rare for June. He hardly noticed. Instead, he watched all the other people around him going about their lives. They were talking about everything and nothing; and they were laughing, happy to be with the people they loved. Kadyn closed his eyes as he tried to block out their happiness.

  “Hi, Kadyn.”

  Kadyn opened his eyes. He smiled thinly at Mickey as he rose from his chair. “Hi, Mickey. Thanks for coming.”

  They made small talk until the waitress stopped by to take their order. Once Mickey’s coffee arrived, Kadyn shifted the conversation. “Mickey, I was hoping we could go back over what happened the day that Kri was kidnapped.”

  Mickey looked down at her coffee cup as she stirred in sugar and cream.

  Kadyn cleared his throat and continued apologetically. “I’m sorry. I know it’s difficult to relive what happened, but I can’t help but think we might be missing something… something that might give us some clue where Michael would have taken her.”

  Mickey took a sip of coffee. She exhaled softly as she set the cup back on the table. She glanced briefly at Kadyn before fixing her gaze on the cup. “I came into work early. It was an hour before we normally opened, so I was the only one there. I had to pull some lease papers together for a new resident, who wanted to swing by and sign them before work. Michael walked in when I was in the storage room getting a new ream of paper for the copy machine. I recognized him immediately from the picture Kri gave me last October.”

  Mickey looked down at her hands, which were now visibly shaking. “He said there were a number of car bombs at the Pentagon that were set to go off. He showed me a small black cell phone that looked nothing like the kind we use around here. He said he would detonate the bombs and kill you and thousands of other people if I didn’t do as he said.”

  Kadyn nodded, encouraging her to continue.

  “Before we left the lease office he made me memorize the message I gave you. He forced me to get the master key and some duct tape. He held me by the arm as we walked to Kri’s apartment. We didn’t pass a single person on the way. You know how short the distance is between her place and the front office. I was hoping she had already left for work, but she was in the shower when we arrived. I tried to yell, to warn her, but Michael covered my mouth and threatened to blow up the Pentagon again. That’s when he put the duct tape on my mouth, my wrists, and ankles.”

  Kadyn stood and moved his chair so he could sit next to Mickey. Her entire body was shaking. He wrapped his arm around her and offered his napkin so she could wipe her tears. “Did he go into the bathroom?”

  Mickey sniffled softly. “I don’t know. I couldn’t see the hallway from where I was sitting. I didn’t hear the shower running when he went back there. I think she was done with her shower by then.”

  Kadyn rubbed his hand down Mickey’s arm as he tried to ease her trembling. “Did you hear them talking?”

  Mickey nodded. “Bits and pieces. I was trying not to cry so I could hear, but I was so scared. He said some things in French. I heard her refuse to go with him. Then I heard him tell her about the Pentagon.” Mickey reached for her coffee.

  Kadyn watched silently as she took a sip.

  After a few seconds, Mickey continued. “Kri looked so scared when I saw her
. She reached for me, but Michael yanked her away.”

  Kadyn’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t thought for a second that Kri had waltzed out of the place, but he hated hearing that Michael had manhandled her.

  Mickey took another sip of coffee. “I think she was just trying to buy some time, but Kri said something about needing to pack.” Mickey’s eyes narrowed as she tried to recall Kri’s exact words. “She said, ‘if we need my passport, then I’m going to need clothes.’ Michael didn’t let her pack anything. He told her he had enough money to buy whatever she needed.”

  Kadyn smiled. “A passport, huh?”

  Mickey nodded. “Yes. I’m sure she mentioned a passport.”

  Kadyn and Mickey stopped talking as the waitress delivered their food. Kadyn returned his chair to the other side of the table and immediately dove into his ham and cheese omelet. It was the first real meal he’d eaten since Kri disappeared. “Would you be willing to call Captain Graves and let him know you remembered this conversation about the passport? It’s very important.”

  Mickey looked up from her French toast, which was practically floating in syrup. “Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t remember this sooner. I didn’t realize the passport was so important. I was so focused on remembering the message, it was hard to think of anything else.”

  Kadyn patted Mickey’s hand. “You remembered it. That’s what matters.”

  Kadyn walked Mickey to her car when they finished eating. He called Phil as he walked back to his motorcycle.

  “Hey, Kadyn. What’s up?”

  “I think I’ve found a way to get the feds back on the case. I just finished talking with Mickey, and she remembers Kri saying something about needing a passport.”

  “Well, that should help. It certainly increases the likelihood that he took her out of the country.” Kadyn heard a car door shut as Phil paused. “I’ve been searching passenger lists from commercial flights that departed out of Reagan, Dulles, and BWI over the past few days. So far, Kri’s name hasn’t popped up. I’m still working my way down the list of Michael Garcia’s that flew out of our area the day of the incident. I tried to look into private jets, but I hit a road block. Apparently, there’s a loophole in the TSA security regulations for private jets, which means the government doesn’t require the vetting of pilots or passengers on private jets.”

  Kadyn stopped just short of his motorcycle. “You have got to be kidding me!”

  Phil sighed. “No. Unfortunately, I’m not. There always seems to be a loophole for people who have money.”

  Kadyn shook his head. “Mickey heard Garcia saying he had enough money to buy Kri whatever she needed. This guy just might have the means to fly her out of here on a private jet.”

  Phil groaned. “I hope you’re wrong on that count, my friend, because if he did, our odds of finding her just went from slim to none.”

  Kadyn tried to remain optimistic as he disconnected the call. The passport would ensure the feds’ involvement in the case, which was what he’d wanted all along. Kadyn swung his leg over his bike. He settled into the seat and scrolled through his list of contacts for one last call.

  “Hey, Kadyn. Feel up to coming over for breakfast? Roger is cooking steak and eggs,” Cenia answered cheerily.

  “Thanks, Cenia. I already ate. I just wanted to check in to see if you had any luck with those reporters yesterday.”

  Cenia sighed. “I spoke with both reporters. They refused to talk unless I spilled the reason why I was asking about Garcia. I’m still trying to reach the person who wrote the op ed piece that suggested a connection between Garcia and that terrorist group in Eastern Europe.”

  Kadyn scowled as he kicked the stand up on his Aprilia with the heel of his boot. “That’s not exactly the news I was hoping for, but thanks for trying, Cenia. I’m taking my bike out for a little while so I can clear my head. Mind if I swing by afterwards?”

  “Not at all. Roger and I should be here all day. Why don’t you plan on joining us for dinner?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you soon.” Kadyn ended the call. He slid the phone into his back pocket before tugging the helmet over his head. He turned the ignition key and eased the sleek black racing bike away from the curb, determined to find some open road.

  Chapter 13 - Steal your heart

  Michael followed through on his promise. He lined up a disposable phone within days of my request. I was allowed a single phone call. It was my cousin, Lexie, who I chose to call in the end. I thought she would handle the call better than my parents, given the limited information I could provide and the brevity of the call. I assured her that I was safe and that Michael wouldn’t hurt me. She promised to let my parents, Kimme, and Kadyn know I was okay. She reluctantly agreed to ask Kadyn not to come after me, once I explained that it could cost him his life.

  The tension between Michael and me eased considerably after I spoke with Lexie. I was relieved my family knew I was safe, and I was praying Kadyn would heed Lexie’s advice so he would remain safe as well.

  Michael and I settled into a routine. During the work week, he’d get out of bed early to watch the markets open. He’d work until noon, join me for lunch, and then take me sightseeing for a few hours during the afternoon. He’d return to his office just before the markets closed, but he always finished work in time to join me for dinner. We spent every evening together, and I had his undivided attention on the weekends.

  I tried to entertain myself in the garden terrace, the pool, and the library while Michael worked, but I quickly grew restless. I wasn’t used to having so much free time. I missed my job, my old life, and my friends. I felt lost, and I grew increasingly irritable about my lack of purpose in life.

  I was feeling really homesick when I woke up this morning. I tried to eat breakfast, but I burst into tears when the omelet conjured up memories of a breakfast I’d eaten with my father. I stumbled into the shower, wept some more, then finally forced myself to get dressed. I was sulking and on the verge of crying yet again when I got this brilliant idea to bake cookies. I was certain that I would feel better if I could do something productive, and the kitchen seemed like the perfect place to start. I jumped from the chair and bolted toward the bedroom door. I couldn’t wait to get started.

  I caught Rafael by surprise when I flung the door open. I paused in the doorway. I hadn’t run my idea by Michael, so I wasn’t sure how receptive Rafael or the cook were going to be to my plans. I prepared for battle as I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m going downstairs to bake cookies.”

  Rafael’s eyebrows rose. “You’re going to bake cookies? Why?”

  I huffed out a breath. I silently studied Rafael as I leaned against the frame of the door. “Do I need a reason?”

  He tried not to smile. “Madame Stone, I’m sure the cook would be happy to bake cookies for you; or, if you prefer, we can send someone to purchase cookies from the pâtisserie down the street.”

  I narrowed my eyes at Rafael. “I want to bake the cookies. I don’t want anyone making them for me, and I don’t want anyone purchasing them from a store.”

  An amused look flitted across Rafael’s face as he stepped aside. “Okay.”

  I couldn’t help but smile as I pushed off from the door. I talked myself down from doing a victory dance as I walked downstairs.

  Rafael didn’t say another word. He just followed me to the kitchen.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when I discovered the kitchen was empty. I was much more comfortable asserting myself with Rafael than I was the cook. She seemed polite enough, but she hadn’t said more than two words to me since I arrived. Thankfully, she was nowhere to be seen. I stopped at the sink so I could wash my hands.

  Rafael crossed one leg in front of the other and folded his arms across his chest as he leaned casually against the wall next to the doorway.

  I pulled the flour, sugar, salt, and baking soda from the pantry. It took me a while to locate the vanilla. I couldn’t find any chocolate chips, but I did find a
large block of dark chocolate. I set that on the counter as well.

  Rafael looked thoroughly amused by the time I pulled the butter, eggs, and brown sugar from the refrigerator. The cook, however, was not amused. Her jaw fell open when she first caught sight of me. She quickly snapped it shut. She breezed past Rafael, threw her hands on her hips, and glared at me from the other side of the center island.

  My heart stalled. I set the food on the counter and began backing up as I attempted to explain. “I just want to bake cookies. I promise, I’ll be out of your way before lunch.”

  She began speaking rapidly in French. I was quite certain she was angry, but I didn’t have a clue what the woman was saying. Suddenly, she whipped the dish towel from the counter and started swatting it in my direction.

  I stared at her in disbelief, then stumbled back against Rafael as she shooed me out of her kitchen. Rafael steadied me as we retreated into the hallway. Then he nearly fell over laughing.

  I glared at him. “I don’t understand why she got so upset. It’s not like I was trying to take over the kitchen.”

  Rafael couldn’t stop laughing long enough to respond. I stalked off to the bedroom and slammed the door in his face, furious over having been banned from the kitchen.

  Rafael tried to make it up to me a few days later. I was in the library trying to track down something… anything… to read in English, when he popped his head just inside the door. “Madame Stone, I thought you might like to know that the cook just left for the market.”

  I was confused by the random report until I noticed the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. My eyes widened. “Do you think she’ll be gone long enough for me to bake something?”

  He slowly nodded.

  I quickly shoved the book back onto the shelf. Rafael was grinning by the time I rose from the lower shelf. My heart tripped when I got a load of his smile. I couldn’t help but wonder how many women had lost their panties to that man’s smile.