Beautifully Broken (The Broken Series Book 2)

by Ruff, K. S.

  Kadyn groaned.

  Dan laughed. “I’ve been digging around the Montana Board of Investments, where Garcia worked when he was living in Montana. It took me a while to find someone who was working there a year and a half ago, back when Garcia was around. You wouldn’t believe the turnover in that place…”

  “Short story, Dan. Short story,” Kadyn growled.

  “Don’t get your panties in an uproar, fly boy. You need the facts. I’m gettin’ you the facts. Now stop interrupting.”

  Kadyn counted to ten. Twice.

  “So, I finally get a name, and I track down this guy at this private investment firm out in Seattle... a guy by the name of Darren Black. He used to work with Garcia at the Board of Investments. Said Garcia had fallen head over heels for one of the local girls, a pretty blond girl he was showing off at the office. Garcia said they were getting married and he wouldn’t be sticking around… and, here’s the good part… Garcia was bragging about buying some mansion for this girl. Any guesses on where?”

  Kadyn lost it. “Dan, if you don’t tell me NOW, I will board the next flight to Montana, so I can strangle you with my bare hands!”

  Dan roared with laughter. “In your dreams, fly boy. The mansion is in Paris, France.”

  “No shit?” Kadyn whispered. He couldn’t believe Dan’s instincts had been right all along.

  “There’s just one problem. I can’t pinpoint an address for the house. I don’t have access to that kind of data… not when the house is in France.”

  Kadyn smiled. “That, my friend, will not be a problem. I owe you one, sailor.”

  Dan snorted. “You owe me more than one.”

  “Yes. Yes, I do,” Kadyn readily agreed.

  “Let me know if you need back up when you go. It’s been a while since I kicked me some French butt.”

  Kadyn shuddered at the thought of Dan in France. “We’ll see, sailor boy. We’ll see.”

  Kadyn disconnected the call. He was in too big a hurry to try to find parking, so he turned his keys over to the valet in front of the hotel. He shot off a quick message to Phil, Mason, Cenia, and Roger. We have a lead. My place in one hour. Then he strode inside the hotel so he could brief the Secretary of Defense on the security protocols they had established for his speech.

  * * * * * *

  Cenia, Roger, and Phil were sitting on the floor outside his apartment when Kadyn arrived. Mason hadn’t made it home yet. They followed him into the apartment. Kadyn quickly briefed them on what he’d learned from Dan.

  “The real estate transaction will be a matter of public record if France is anything like the United States. That should be fairly easy to obtain, especially since we have a timeframe. I’ll have to pull in someone who can read French, but I should be able to pin down an address within the next forty-eight hours. Of course, that’s assuming the house was purchased in his name,” Phil noted excitedly.

  Cenia looked at Kadyn. “If we’re going to Paris to look for Kri, then we need to approach this the right way. We won’t get anywhere if we question people in English. Whoever is in on this is going to have to make some effort to speak the language. I’ll see if I can find someone to run us through a French immersion course within the next few days.” Cenia jerked her head toward Mason, who had just walked through the door. “And we won’t get anywhere if we show up looking like that.”

  Mason narrowed his eyes at Cenia. “What’s wrong with what I got on?”

  Gabi peeked out from behind Mason. “Cenia, don’t even try. Mason has no clue he doesn’t match. I keep telling him he can’t pair a striped shirt with plaid shorts and athletic socks with sandals. This guy’s a lost cause. There’s no way he’ll blend in Paris.”

  Cenia laughed at the pained look on Mason’s face. “Okay, so Mason’s out until he learns how to dress. The rest of you know better. If you want people to talk to you in Paris, you’re going to have to dress nice. No jeans, no athletic shoes, no Hawaiian shirts…” she looked pointedly at Mason, “and no white socks with sandals. We need to dress in a way that blends in, and don’t forget that money talks. We’re going to need some serious cash.”

  Kadyn nodded. “I agree. Phil will track down the address, I’ll scrape up some cash, and Cenia will schedule a French immersion course.” He glanced at Mason. “Buddy, I leave it up to you on whether you can sacrifice your sense of style for the mission.”

  Roger folded his arms across his chest. “Look, I hate to be the voice of reason here, but none of us can afford to get in trouble with the French authorities. We can’t take the same kind of risks we took in Trout Lake. We can’t storm the castle with guns blazing, not in a foreign country. We’ll jeopardize our careers and find ourselves in a French penitentiary so fast it’ll make your heads spin. I love Kri just as much as the next guy, but we have to be careful about how we approach this.”

  Kadyn’s expression turned solemn. “Our ability to act will be extremely limited. If we see Kri, we might not be able to intervene right away. We’ll have to watch and wait for the right moment. Hopefully, we’ll catch her alone at some point, so we can nab her without violating the law.”

  Roger nodded. “If that happens, she might not have her passport on her. We may have to pull in the American Embassy.”

  “Couldn’t we just call the American Embassy and send them over to question Garcia about her disappearance? She’s an American citizen who’s been abducted to a foreign country. I would think that would be right up their alley,” Mason reasoned from the kitchen.

  “We could do that. It would be a hell of a lot cheaper than flying over there and paying for a hotel,” Phil agreed.

  Kadyn shook his head. “I’d prefer to check things out myself before pulling the embassy in. What if they send an investigator over to the house? Garcia could refuse entry. Then what? Then he knows we’re on to him, and he’ll take her someplace else. If the guy has enough money to buy a mansion, he probably owns more than one home. And, if he’s as smart as I think he is, they’re not all going to be located in France. No. I say a handful of us go and check the place out. We’ll gather as much evidence as we can to prove she’s there. If we can’t catch her alone, then we’ll pull the authorities in.”

  Cenia tugged her laptop out of her backpack and plopped down on the couch. “That sounds like a good plan, Kadyn. If we’re going to do this, I need to know who I’m enrolling in this French immersion course. The sooner we get started the better. I know Kadyn’s going. I am too. Roger?”

  “Woman, you’re on crack if you think you’re going off to Paris without me,” Roger responded drily.

  Mason retrieved a beer from the refrigerator, twisted the lid off, and took a swig. “Count me in,” he said, leaning over the breakfast bar.

  “While I’d love an excuse to jet off to Paris with Mason,” Gabi winked at Cenia, “summer semester ends next week. I have final exams.”

  Phil walked over to the refrigerator, stooped inside, and pulled out a longneck. He joined Mason at the counter as he twisted off the cap. “I’ll be in a better position to gather Intel for you if I stay here. Oh, that reminds me. You need to ensure your cell phones will work in France. You’re going to need SIM cards and an international calling plan, unless Kadyn can requisition some satellite phones.”

  Kadyn reached for his cell phone. “I’ll call Shawn to see if he’s flying to Europe next week. He’s been flying that route a lot lately. If not, we may have to find a military hop. Ramstein Air Force Base is going to be the nearest base. We’ll have to drive or catch a puddle jumper from there.”

  “You’re going to have to get an international driver’s license if you drive,” Gabi noted as she joined Cenia on the couch.

  Kadyn tapped the screen on his cell phone. “I think we should drive. It looks like Ramstein is only a four hour drive from Paris, and we’re going to need a car in Paris. A cab won’t work, especially if we snag an opportunity to grab Kri. We need to be able to hightail it out of there fast,” Kadyn respond
ed.

  Within four days' time, the friends did what they had been longing to do for over two months. They flew to Europe to rescue Kri.

  Chapter 17 – I dare you to move

  I was standing in the closet, stepping into a jade lace dress, when a hand clamped over my mouth. I was forced back against an unforgiving body. I tried to scream as I struggled to break free.

  Rafael pressed his mouth to my ear and hissed, “Be quiet or they’ll find us.” He kept his hand over my mouth as he dragged me toward the shelf displaying the shoes. My eyes widened when the shelf slid into a hidden pocket in the wall. The area behind the shelves was pitch black.

  I tried to break loose from Rafael. My heart was beating erratically. I was terrified, certain that horrible, unspeakable things would happen if he pulled me into that dark abyss. Rafael hadn’t touched me since the spa. I couldn’t believe he was holding me like this when I was barely dressed.

  Suddenly, Justin was holding me, forcing a vial against my lips. I kicked at his legs as he forced me into the hangar… or was it a room? I whimpered when I heard the wall slide shut behind me. I clawed at his hands.

  He turned me around and pinned me against the wall. His hand was still covering my mouth. Why is he smothering me? Justin and then Rafael’s face swam before me. I couldn’t see well enough to identify who it was.

  Rafael’s face came into focus. “Please, Madame Stone. Not one word.” His body remained pressed against mine. He slowly removed his hand.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” I rasped. I couldn’t catch my breath.

  He immediately stepped back.

  My eyes began adjusting to the dark. I could barely see him standing in front of me. I trembled violently. “Why… what… what are we doing in here?”

  Rafael pressed a finger to his lips. He appeared to be listening for something.

  The only thing I could hear was my heart pounding and my own ragged breaths.

  “This is a safe room. Someone tripped the silent alarm,” he explained in a hushed tone.

  I was silently questioning whether I should whisper another word. I took a step forward and grasped Rafael’s shirt. “Where’s Michael? Please tell me he’s safe.” Tears streamed down my cheeks. I choked back a sob as images of what terrorists might do to him… to me… swam before my face. My heart stalled. I felt my fingers loosen and slide down Rafael’s chest. Then everything went black.

  * * * * * *

  I could hear Michael whispering angrily in French. “Michael,” I sobbed as I struggled to sit up. The duvet slid down my chest.

  Michael rushed over to me. “Mon coeur…”

  “Oh God,” I cried. “Thank God, you’re okay.”

  Michael gathered me in his arms. “Shhh, ma chérie. I’m safe. You’re safe. Everyone is okay.” He rocked me gently as he held me against his chest.

  I looked around, thoroughly confused. I was back in our bed, clothed only in my panties and bra. “Was it a dream?” I asked hesitantly. “Justin grabbed me. He was forcing me to drink from a vial…” my voice trailed off when I realized that wasn’t right.

  Michael’s jaw clenched. “Non, mon coeur. That was not a dream. Someone tried to break into the house. Rafael pulled you into one of the safe rooms.”

  “A safe room?” I repeated. Images came together, like a puzzle, but some of the pieces were still missing. “In the closet?”

  “Oui. Je suis désolé. That must have been terrifying for you.” Michael eased me back against the pillows so he could lie next to me. He tucked me into his chest.

  My eyes widened as I shot back up. “Oh my God, Michael! I was so worried about you. I was afraid… the terrorists… Oh, God!” I buried my face in his chest as I began sobbing again.

  Michael whispered soothingly in French. When I finally stopped crying, he switched back to English. “Ma chérie, we are going away for a few days, while they strengthen our security system. The plane is ready. We just need to get you dressed so we can leave.”

  “I’m so tired, Michael. God, I am so tired. I just want to sleep.” A lone tear trickled out of the corner of my eye. “I’m too afraid to sleep.”

  Michael kept me tucked against his chest as he sat up. He appeared hesitant to release me. “I’m sorry, but we should leave now, mon coeur, while we know it’s still safe. I’ll help you dress. Rafael will find something to help you sleep on the plane. The maid has already gathered everything you’ll need.”

  * * * * * *

  Michael helped me dress. Rafael gave me a pill that was supposed to help me sleep. The walk to the car, the drive to the airport, and the flight were all a blur. By the time my head cleared, we were driving along a long expanse of azure colored water, which Michael identified as the Mediterranean Sea. The deep blue water was dotted with white boats of all shapes and sizes. When we arrived in Saint-Tropez, our driver turned onto a steep, winding driveway that led to a large villa.

  The villa was painted the softest shade of yellow. Bright white shutters flanked twelve massive windows across the front of the house. Eight large windows lined the top floor. Four windows graced the bottom floor, along with two sets of French doors. The driveway and the back of the house were nestled among a well-manicured lawn, flowering bushes, and tropical trees. A large travertine patio was sandwiched between the front of the house and a large infinity pool that hung over the edge of the cliff. Both offered a spectacular view of the sea below. While still quite large, the place appeared to be half the size of Michael’s mansion in Paris.

  Beauty and tranquility surrounded the place, but I was too tired to fully appreciate it. I asked Michael to take me to our room. He insisted I eat some chilled potato and leek soup with baguette bread at a small sitting area nestled in front of the window before I crawled into bed.

  My mind kept flashing back to the attempted break-in, so I begged Michael to lie down with me. He offered me another sleeping pill before stripping down and joining me in bed. I couldn’t bear to have him hold me from behind, so he stretched out on his back and tucked me against his chest. I burrowed into his arms and quickly fell asleep.

  While I was sleeping, insidious tendrils of fear spiraled through me like smoke, leaving behind images of Tom, Justin, and nameless, faceless men who beat me over and over again. I was so deeply anchored in sleep, I was unable to escape until the pill wore off in the early morning hours. I woke even more exhausted than I was the day before.

  Michael called to me from the window as soon as he heard me stir. “Mon coeur, why don’t you come join me for breakfast?”

  I pulled a pillow over my head. “No, thank you.” My voice was barely audible through the pillow.

  Michael sat down next to me. He removed the pillow, smoothed my hair back, and sprinkled soft kisses all over my face. “Please, mon amour. I promise we are safe.”

  I tried to smile when he kissed me, but I couldn’t. I cried instead. Michael pulled me into his arms and held me until the tears subsided. I stayed in bed the entire day… not really awake, but not sleeping either. I was lost somewhere in between. Michael sat by the window with his laptop so he could watch me while he worked.

  I left the bed twice but only to use the bathroom. The second time, Michael found me hiding next to the sink.

  He rushed to me as soon as he saw me on the floor. “Mon Dieu, Kristine! What happened?”

  I tightened my arms around my knees. “They’re here. I heard them outside.” I looked up at him through wild, fearful eyes.

  Michael sprinted to the window, then slowly walked back to me. “Mon coeur, it is only the gardeners. We are safe here. I promise you, we are safe.” Michael scooped me up in his arms and tucked me back in bed. “Would another sleeping pill help?” he asked as he hovered over me.

  Tears trickled slowly down my cheeks. “No. I’m too afraid to go back to sleep.”

  Michael crawled into bed with his clothes on. He leaned back against the heavy mahogany headboard and pulled me on top of him so I was reclining agai
nst his chest and nestled between his legs. He tucked my head under his chin and wrapped his arms around me. I sighed contentedly, then fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  I woke a few hours later. I heard a noise at the door and flinched against Michael’s chest. I watched nervously as Rafael showed an older gentleman into the room. He had salt and pepper hair, kind brown eyes, and a slightly weathered face. He was dressed in a nice gray suit, and he carried a small black bag. I watched him approach the bed. Then I began to shake.

  “It’s okay, ma chérie. This is my physician. He won’t hurt you. He is here to help,” Michael whispered soothingly. He kept me tucked against his chest and used hushed tones as he spoke to the physician in French.

  The man studied me while Michael spoke. His brows furrowed, then his eyes softened as he gently shook his head. The physician continued to watch only me as he spoke to Michael. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I could only watch him watching me.

  Finally, Michael spoke to me. “The physician needs to take your blood pressure and measure your heart rate. Is it okay if he does that, ma chérie?”

  I slowly nodded.

  Michael kissed the top of my head. “You don’t have to move. I will be right here holding you the whole time.”

  The physician spoke softly in French as he wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my arm and felt for a pulse on my wrist. He flashed a small pen light across my eyes before he stood. He spoke to Michael, again in French. He wrote out two prescriptions on a small notepad and handed them to Rafael as he walked toward the door.

  Michael tightened his arms around me and explained. “Rafael will send someone to get the medicine, mon coeur. The physician said you are in shock. He is concerned that what happened yesterday may have triggered some fear and anxieties that are tied to your past. He wrote prescriptions for anti-anxiety medication and antidepressants. They should help you feel better.”

  I nodded, too tired to speak. I eventually drifted back to sleep.

  Michael woke me when the medications arrived. He insisted I take the medicine with food, so I joined him at the window for a late lunch. I picked at the cheese, grapes, and bread and stared unseeingly at the brilliant blue sea. Once Michael gave up trying to coax me to eat, I took the medicine and returned to bed.