Trust: Betrayed

by Cristiane Serruya

  “Oh, my God,” she gasped.

  More armed men got out of the cars.

  Gabriel took both her hands in his and squeezed as he spoke quietly, looking into her eyes, “Don’t panic, Sophia.”

  “Oh, Gabriel,” she heaved, her whole body filled with dread. “What are we going to do?”

  “Don’t leave the car, Sophia. Don’t leave the car. Everything will be okay.”

  The men advanced on the Cayenne, surrounded it and took aim.

  Gabriel pressed the speaker and said, “I’ll leave the car in peace. Don’t shoot.”

  “Please, don’t go. Please, Gabriel, please,” Sophia begged him in a scared whisper.

  “The armor will never hold against that kind of ammunition, Sophia.” He opened the door slowly and got out of the car, arms raised.

  The men crowded closer around the car and one of them holstered his gun, yanked her door open and ripped her out of the car, shouting for her to stay quiet. He dragged her behind him in the direction of the cars.

  She freaked out and struggled.

  The man turned and slapped her hard, splitting her lip.

  Without thinking, she flung her knee high and hit the man squarely on the groin, sending him screaming away.

  He cursed foul words and shot her.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Three, four times.

  The first bullet missed her, but the second hit the center of her left upper arm and she staggered to the side. The third one tore a few inches lower through the outside of the same arm, and she fell.

  “Sophia!” Gabriel yelled and ran to her just to be held back by two huge men.

  She fell on the pavement, clutching her bloodied arm. Another man pulled her up by the hair. She stood unsteadly and stumbled, dragging behind, but it didn’t stop his firm stroll to the cars.

  “Please, don’t, please,” she screamed, pleading with him, but the kidnappers just laughed and sneered.

  “Stop. Stop! You are making a mistake,” Gabriel shouted for them. “I’m worth more than she is! My ransom will be bigger.”

  The guy dragging Sophia halted and turned slowly.

  “She is already shot and will surely die without medical attention. You won’t receive a cent.”

  The man looked at Gabriel and back to the others. “He’s right.”

  “Take me instead,” Gabriel shouted again. “Release her.”

  The criminals started a heated argument, but concluded that Gabriel’s alternative was better.

  “No. Gabriel! No.”

  Sophia was flung violently on the ground and the man kicked her ribs and middle calling her lewd names. She stayed down on the wet tarmac, crying and hugging her arm. “Gabriel, please! No!”

  They started to haul Gabriel toward the two cars at the rear but he managed to free himself and rushed to Sophia’s side, dropping to the ground on his knees.

  “I love you, I love you.” He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “You’re the best thing that happened in my whole life.”

  Sophia grabbed his wet shirt, sobbing, imploring to him, “Don’t go with them, please. Let them take me.”

  “Fucking ridiculous,” another man laughed and pulled Gabriel from Sophia.

  “Help! Someone help us,” Sophia screamed and received another hard kick in the ribs.

  “Don’t lose hope, Sophia,” Gabriel shouted as two men hauled him into a car and zoomed away as she struggled to crawl back to the Cayenne.

  “Help!”

  Sophia collapsed on the ground before she managed to reach the door. The rain increased and she watched as rivulets of her diluted blood ran down the sloping avenue.

  Sobbing, Sophia embraced darkness, falling, falling in an endless abyss.

  Ells Hall.

  Friday, April 2nd, 2010.

  7.17 p.m.

  When Sophia opened her eyes again, she saw forest green eyes looking worriedly at her.

  She heard someone crying and realized it was her. She was wet all over and she shivered in the chilly air.

  She was gripping her left arm with so much force her nails were digging into the flesh. A soft delicate hand was drying the tears on her face. She looked around trying to make sense of where she was.

  A beautiful red-haired woman with green eyes was kneeling beside her and she was in the arms of a dark-haired handsome man with the same green eyes. She knew she had said something, but couldn’t hear above the ringing sound in her ears.

  A wet and cold handkerchief appeared in the hand of another man who crouched beside the woman and pressed it to the side of her head, above her ear.

  That hurts. She winced. Gabriel! Where is Gabriel? I need to know.

  She asked them, but they didn’t seem to understand what she had said. She tried again in English.

  The man with green eyes asked her something, but she couldn’t hear him.

  She shook her head and feeling dizzy, closed her eyes, resting her head on his broad, warm chest. Gabriel! I have to find Gabriel.

  “Who brought the flashlights?” Leonard answered.

  “They are in my backpack, Leonard.” Lachlann answered and Leonard immediately opened it and grabbed two flashlights.

  Lachlann illuminated the side of Sophia’s head and examined her blood-matted hair.

  She squeezed her eyes shut.

  “I don’t think she’ll need many stitches. Three or four, probably. Let me get this cleaned.” He handed the flashlight to Alice and went to the stream to wash his handkerchief, returning with it soaking wet. He wrung it above the wound, letting the water wash the blood away and lightly wiped her head and then he noticed her shoulder was hurt too. He tried to clean the wound but stopped as Sophia moaned, “Don’t. It hurts.”

  “What did she say?” Lachlann looked at Leonard.

  “That it hurts. She is talking in Portuguese. It’s similar to Spanish. I can understand some but not everything.”

  “Sophia,” Alice called, softly caressing her face. “Please, Sophia, talk to us.”

  Sophia opened her eyes, but they were unfocused. She blinked a few times and the focus returned. She stared into Alistair’s eyes. “They took Gabriel.”

  “Gabriela? No, Gabriela is safe,” Leonard said to her and looked at Alistair, concerned, “I think she hit her head hard. Talk to her. See if she recognizes you.”

  They kept asking her questions, to no avail. She continued to speak in a mix of Portuguese, English and French and it was clear she didn’t recognize them.

  “She doesn’t know where she is,” Lachlann pointed out. “She keeps clutching her arm. She must have wounded it too.” He gently tried to pry her fingers, but she shook her head, moaning, the movement making her dizzy.

  “How did she fall?” Alice asked. “Did she slip?”

  “I don’t know. I was watching the deer. When it ran away and I looked at her, she was falling to the ground and rolling down the hill. I didn’t have time to catch her. She must have fainted.”

  Lachlann glanced at Alistair, concern marring his features. “We have to take her to a hospital.”

  “No.” There was deep concern in Alistair’s eyes. His voice was firm, though. “Only if it’s strictly necessary. She hates hospitals. Leonard, call Tavish Uilleam. Inform him we’re coming back and we need medical help. I’ll ride with her on my lap.”

  From far away, Sophia could hear voices and feel her body being handled and although she tried, she couldn’t reach them.

  She was floating in a dark space where flaming pain coursed through her body and a freezing ache prickled her heart.

  8.29 p.m.

  Alistair strode into his bedroom, with an unconscious Sophia in his arms, Tavish hovering over his shoulder.

  “Let me help,” Alice volunteered.

  “Okay. Don’t lay her down yet. Alice, take off her shirt, please. I need to suture her wounds as quickly as possible.”

  What? “There’s no need to take off her shirt, Alice,”
Alistair scolded at his sister. “You can cut around the wound.”

  Tavish grunted. “Alistair Connor, her clothes are wet and dirty. I need her clean to treat her wounds. If you don’t cooperate, you’ll have to leave.”

  Alistair’s green gaze blazed flames at his brother. “I’m not going anywhere!”

  Their stares clashed.

  “Stop interfering. She’s in pain and you’re being an ass.” Tavish sighed. “Alistair Connor. I’m a doctor. I do not lust over unconscious, sick women however beautiful or hot they may be. And, fuck, she’s your girlfriend.”

  Tavish Uilleam is right. You’re being an idiot, Alistair Connor. Alistair slowly nodded, “I’m sorry.”

  Tavish barely acknowledged the apology, looking away from Sophia as Alice took her shirt off. “Does she have any allergies?”

  “I don’t know!” Alistair nearly shouted, exasperated with his impotency.

  “You’re not helping.” Tavish stared at his brother, irritated too.

  Alistair raked a hand in his hair. “I don’t know. This is her scarred arm, though.”

  Tavish turned and saw the white jagged scars. “Fucking hell! That must have hurt.” He approached the still sleeping Sophia, putting on gloves. “I called a friend of mine who is a psychiatrist. She has a country house near here, about one and a half hour away.” He prepared the medical supplies he would need beside him on the bedside table. “I’m worried. She shouldn’t sleep after a head injury like this. Have you seen a suture before, Alistair Connor?” Tavish studied him, seriously. “Can you stomach it?”

  “I’m not leaving her,” he affirmed. He frowned as he saw what Tavish had in his first aid kit. “Morphine?! Why do you have morphine, Tavish Uilleam?”

  “Are you going to question each and every step?” He didn’t raise his eyes from what he was doing. He quickly assessed Sophia and looked up at Alistair. “We have to take her to a hospital.”

  “No. The wounds on her head and shoulder are minor. You can handle it. If she doesn’t regain cons-”

  “Alistair Connor, she’s not a child, neither are you. She fainted, hit her head and is sleeping.”

  Tavish crossed his brawny arms and fixed Alistair with a stern stare. “Even if she regains consciousness, I’m taking her to get an X-ray and MRI tomorrow morning. And that’s final.”

  Alistair Connor, he is the doctor here. “All right, all right.”

  Tavish uncrossed his arms and started to work.

  The door opened after a soft knock and Gabriela entered the room.

  Her eyes widened when she entered Alistair’s room. “Mama,” she cried, running to Sophia’s side. “Mama, wake up.”

  Alice stepped in front of her and picking her up in her arms, hugged her, drawing the little girl’s face to her chest. “Don’t worry, dear. She just fell and is resting now.” She looked over Gabriela’s white blonde hair into Alistair’s eyes.

  “Alistair.” Gabriela turned in Alice’s arms and said in whisper, “Kiss her.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Alistair was flabbergasted at the suggestion.

  “Kiss her, like in Sleeping Beauty.”

  “Go on, kiss her. It can’t hurt,” Tavish coached, smiling.

  “Please, Alistair. A kiss will break the spell,” Gabriela beamed, twinkles in her eyes.

  Sophia felt a strangely familiar scent, vanilla mixed with oak and a warm masculine minted breath bathed her lips. A mouth pressed on hers and silky hair fell over her, tickling her face. Her fingers wandered up to touch it. Men shouldn’t have hair like that, only girls-

  She broke the kiss and opened her eyes. “Alistair! Oh, God! Alistair Connor.”

  Sophia pulled him down, burying her face in the hollow of his neck, as her eyes filled with tears, hugging his neck tightly.

  He returned the embrace. “Gabriela is here,” he murmured for her ears only.

  Instantly Sophia regained her composure, rubbing her tear stricken face on his sweater and shifting to look at her daughter.

  Gabriela came closer.

  “Oh, my love,” Sophia whispered, struggling to keep her emotions under control.

  “You see, Mama, he broke the spell. He is your Prince Charming,” said the little girl, sitting down on the edge of the bed and bending down to kiss her mother.

  She smiled at the little girl. “Yes, he is.”

  “I knew it,” she beamed at the couple.

  “Time to sleep, little angel,” Alice said, “I betAriadne is waiting for you.”

  Sophia kissed the little girl again and plastered a smile on her face until Gabriela was out of the room with Alice, who kept looking back at her.

  When the door closed behind them, Alistair gushed out, “Christ, Sophia, you scared us all.”

  “What happened?” Tavish brought a chair close to the bed.

  She looked at them. “The deer,” she bit her lip, “his eyes. When I looked into his eyes...” She shook her head and put a hand on her temple, feeling the bandage over the stitches.

  “You hit your head, Beauty. Don’t make sharp movements.” Alistair kissed her forehead.

  “I’m giving Frankenstein a run for his money.” Sophia attempted a joke, but broke down sobbing. “I remembered.”

  She began to tremble.

  At first, tiny quakes shuddered her body, but then she started to shake in earnest and Alistair’s chest tightened. He hugged her.

  “They wanted me, not Gabriel. Me! I was too afraid to obey their orders. Gabriel gave himself up in my place.” Her voice came out broken by her crying, her lean body shaking with heartbroken sobs. What have I done? I killed him. If not for me, he would still be alive.

  “Hush, Beauty. Do you think Gabriel would have let them take you?” He buried his face in her hair as the despair in her voice sliced his heart. “Shhh. Don’t cry.”

  “I killed him, Alistair. I don’t deserve to be alive.”

  Tavish gasped shocked, “Sophia, you don’t know what you are saying.”

  “You did not kill him. It was a tragic accident. A poorly handled kidnapping,” Alistair tried to soothe her.

  “No,” she sobbed. “It was a series of events caused by my actions. I’m to blame. I didn’t surrender, I fought back. I let him go in my place, I let myself be drugged and I let his father control the negotiations. My fault. My fault.” Sophia was almost hysterical.

  Alistair looked at Tavish, “Give her something.”

  “No. I don’t want anything. It’s not fair on him. Not fair,” she said incoherently. “What I did... Wrong, so wrong.” Sophia’s adrenaline spiked. She fought Alistair’s embrace and got up from the other side of the bed. She swayed as the room spun around her.

  Tavish jumped from the chair to steady her, but she shoved his hands away and walked to the bathroom.

  “Fuck.” Immediately, Alistair rose from the bed, ordering, “Tavish Uilleam. Give her something. Something strong.”

  Tavish looked at his brother and raked his fingers in his hair. “I can give her a Valium. But she already has low blood pressure. Barbiturates or benzodiazepines-”

  “Speak English,” Alistair interrupted. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

  “Stronger sedatives can increase the risk of the more serious side effects of a low blood pressure. What she needs is time. Time to understand and let it all settle.” He shook his head as he walked to the door. “You can’t just magically solve problems with medicine. Sometimes you just have to trust time, patience and a lot of understanding to do the trick.”

  Alistair sighed and followed Sophia into the bathroom.

  “He was my husband!” Sophia never felt so much pain. For her, she had been the real cause of Gabriel’s death and it was more than she could bear. “You don’t get it!”

  “There’s nothing you can do, Sophia. It wasn’t your fault,” Alistair said.

  “It was. Maybe I didn’t pull the trigger, but what I did...” Sophia turned her head to the wall as if tryin
g to bury herself in it. “I turned the gun onto him.” Her loss and her secret weighed on her making her pain and regret even more unbearable. She broke down, wailing.

  Alistair had seen her cry before, but it had been nothing like this.

  Sophia wasn’t rational. Any coherence had disappeared into an otherworldly oblivion of pain, raw and primal. He carefully pulled her into his arms and held her while she cried.

  Sophia bit her fist, trying to stifle the hurtful sobs, but nothing could muffle the painful sounds that left her body.

  “Sophia,” Alistair sighed. He looked away for a moment, his throat convulsing. When his eyes came back to meet hers, Sophia was shocked by the amount of tormented ache that swam inside his green eyes. It was as if his eyes mirrored all the hurt she was feeling inside. “My love. Please don’t cry.”

  And it wasn’t only in his eyes. Alistair’s voice was leaden with pain, too.

  “I know this is hard. Believe me when I say I understand. One day, you’re going to realize that it wasn’t your fault. Remember the facts. Even if you hadn’t reacted, even if you hadn’t been shot, do you think Gabriel would have let them take you? Do you think the man who loved you that much wouldn’t do everything in his power to convince them to take him instead? You couldn’t have prevented that.”

  Alistair just held her, feeling as if he were going to break too. His hands ran over her back until she let out a last shuddering breath.

  “Alistair Connor.” She managed to grimace. “I hate it when you are so reasonable.”

  “Do you really?” He looked at her, content that she had stop crying. “I would have done the same thing, if I’d been in Gabriel’s place. I-”

  A knock on the door interrupted Alistair. “Come in,” he ordered and looked over his shoulder to see his brother accompanied by a short, plump, blonde woman casually dressed.

  “Sophia, this is my friend, Doctor Evelyne Richardson. She’s a psychiatrist. I explained to her what happened. I think it would be advisable if you talk to her a bit. Would you?”