“I would have canceled my employment with him sooner, yet I couldn’t seem to separate myself from you. I worried over you. You always came to me. Do you know I was the one who named you? I’ve always loved your name. I was heartbroken when Samantha was unable to have any more children after Damien was born. Yours is the name I had picked out for my own daughter, if we’d had one. It was my mother’s name. Since, for some reason, your parents had only boys' names picked out, they were happy to let me name you.
“Your first steps were to me while your father lay passed out on the couch. Your first word was James. You cried when I left a room you were in, wanting me to take you with me. I was afraid if I told him I no longer needed his services he would take you away from me.
“Your mother loved him; she wouldn’t listen when I told her I would take care of the both of you if she left him. I would have kept her safe. I wanted to keep her safe. I had no idea your father was filling her head with horrible lies, saying I was plotting to take you away or kill you and her, that he was the only one who stood between us.
“A few years later he began to beat your mother. I was furious and forbade him to lay a hand on her, but he understood how much my family had grown to care for you. He used that against me. The first time he beat you I almost killed him.
“I know you don’t remember that night. You were six. Your grandmother stumbled through my backdoor with you bloodied and wrapped in a sheet. I was enraged to see you lying so motionless and unresponsive. I raced to your home and broke down the door. I attacked him. Pounded him into oblivion. I wanted him dead right then and there.
“I would have made him disappear. Your mother was screaming. She cried for me to allow him to live, to spare his life, pathetically pulling on my arms, as if she would ever be strong enough to stop me. She was terror-stricken. Finally she fell to her knees, begging me, clutching at my pant legs and crying so pitifully I relented. She swore he would never touch you again.”
* * * *
“But he did,” Chloe interrupted sadly. He had struck out at her many times. Calling her horrible, brutal names. Yanking her from the corners she tried to hide in. Finding all of her hiding places until there was nowhere in or around the house she felt safe.
He dominated everywhere. The moment he walked into a room the atmosphere became charged with deadly intent. She remembered the long knife he kept strapped to his belt in plain view. She never remembered a time he was not without his large, black gun. Chloe had been terrified of him. Only when James or Dirk were around was she truly happy and safe from his assaults.
“Chloe, your grandmother came to me sometime later and told me something that sickened me, made my blood run cold. Do you remember the last time your father beat you?”
“No!” Chloe said. She was horrified he had even brought that up. She began sobbing as the frightening images came to mind. “Don’t, James, please,” she whimpered in a tiny voice.
James moved to her and gathered her into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. But I couldn’t let him stay near you anymore. I had no choice; I had to dispose of him immediately before he tried again. The car bomb went off prematurely.
“You and your mother were never supposed to be around. You were never supposed to witness it. It was supposed to be done in a quiet place of my choosing. I could have then told your mother he left the country and put both of you in my care. I didn’t want either of you traumatized. I swear it! I was so angry with my man who planted it. He was lucky he didn’t die a horrible death that night. As it was, I got rid of him.”
“I remember that night. I heard how angry you were. I wish Dirk hadn’t made me swear to forget what I overheard. I could have told my mother it was an accident. She would have listened.”
“No, Chloe, she wouldn’t have listened. She had spent too many years listening to your father tell her how she would be next if he walked out on her. She convinced herself he was telling the truth after the bomb went off.
“He had manipulated her thoughts so cruelly. He hinted to her that his brother’s death was planned. Even your grandmother couldn’t reach her, though she tried. The damage was done and was irreversible. It killed me to see your pain and hers, sweetheart. None of this is your fault. You were just the last straw. Your father would have eventually hurt my family by his irresponsibility. He was out of control, unpredictable…a loose cannon.”
“Do Dirk's and Wolf’s wives know what you do?” Chloe asked.
“Yes, sweetheart. So does Carrie, and now you. We never kill for sport. Every action is discussed, assessed, re-discussed. Please believe me when I say life has value to us. This is a last possible resort. We dispose of men and women like your father. Evil people who maliciously hurt others for pleasure or their own gain, people uncaring of any consequences and who feel there will be none.
“Chloe, in your innocence I don’t think you’re even capable of comprehending the evil filth out there that prey upon the helpless. Disgusting, fake, moving inhumanities who pose as men, who are not and who possibly have never been capable of a merciful act.
“We protect people who are unable to defend themselves against such cruelty. Sometimes the laws are unjust; innocents seek justice. Sometimes through grief people find themselves turning into someone they loathe when their deepest despair confronts and assaults them. They are incapable of finding closure. Then and only then do we step in.
“Don’t be afraid. I understand this sounds strange. Our organization is very far-reaching. We’ve been in operation for quite some time. I’m certain you can imagine how in demand our abilities are to dispose of the evil at any cost, any way. There is also nothing evil about you, no matter who your father was. That is not how we operate. None of my men would ever harm you.”
“I’ve never in my life feared you, James, for any reason. I won’t start now. But why did you send me away? I would never, and have never said anything to anyone. I would never do anything to hurt any of you. Your secrets are safe with me.”
James bowed his head into Chloe’s hair. “Your grandmother, before she died, begged me to send you away, before your mother’s insanity consumed you. She was terrified of you being left alone with a suicidal woman. She feared that your mother, with her irrational thoughts, would kill you, thinking to save you from me.
“It took me a while to be able to let you go. If you recall, you spent a great deal of time at my home by then, while I employed others to watch your mother. The men and women I sent to stay with you when you needed to be home, to keep you safe, only frightened her further. She felt her concerns were reinforced, that I was watching her, controlling her and you.
“She didn’t understand it was she I feared would harm you. If I could have convinced you to live with me and never see her again I would have tried. Loyalty is a powerful thing in the young. The effort would have been futile.”
Chloe pulled herself from James’ arms. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what, Chloe? That I disposed of your father, that because of me your mother went insane?”
“That you loved me and you didn’t want me to go,” Chloe accused hurtfully.
“Chloe, if I could have, I would have kept you near. But I couldn’t remove your mother to some type of asylum. I felt guilty enough. You were the stronger of the two, with the resilience of the very young. I tried to take care of the both of you as best as I could. It was a shame that your mother got to stay and you didn’t.
“I will understand if you hate me. I loved you the moment I set eyes on you, at the ripe old age of four minutes old. I threatened a doctor into allowing me to hold you. They had whisked you away from your mother because of complications she was having. Your father stayed with her, and your uncle was away on business. I took charge of you, not wanting you to be alone. I fell in love, head over heels, sweetheart. I did my best by you. I’m only sorry it wasn’t good enough.” James hung his head.
“I love you, too, James. I could never hate you, you mean t
oo much to me. I lied when I said I didn’t remember what my father did to me, and then tried to do to me. Granny stopped him. Drunk or not that’s not an excuse. Thank you for saving me from a life filled with unbearable pain and anger. I’m just sorry you didn’t do it sooner. Maybe if you had, we could have saved my mom from the hell he locked her in.”
“The past is filled with maybe’s, would have’s, should have’s, didn’t’s, and wanted to’s. The future is filled with hope. You have your whole life ahead of you. Let your memories lie in peace with your mother.” James ran a hand over his face. He kissed Chloe’s forehead, looking drained of emotion.
“Rest for awhile, sweetheart, then freshen up. Don’t worry if your suitcase is still in your car. I’ve taken the liberty of acquiring new clothing for you, already in your closet and drawers. I hope you don’t mind. Carrie and Candy were very helpful. And don’t be surprised if they come asking to borrow items. I’m afraid they fell in love with some of the purchases that they picked out for you.”
Chloe smiled at that. It would be interesting having other women around to talk to. But James was right, she felt physically and emotionally drained and perhaps some rest would be a good idea.
* * * *
Chloe smiled as she looked around the large dining room table. All of the younger children were eating upstairs under the care of another watchful eye. James had always insisted the evening meal was reserved for adults.
A time when they could eat in leisure, while discussing adult topics openly, not needing to spell out certain words. Without having to wipe sticky faces or hands, having to scold or ignore bad behaviors. Where they could avoid thrown food and temper tantrums. Where a glass of wine could rest without the worries of being spilled. Candles glowed without the fear of a curiously seeking hand.
Chloe had felt so mature when finally, at age eight, she had been allowed to dine with the adults, though she was ever wary of James summing up her maturity and table manners. She had been warned by Damien, who was far wiser at the age of ten, one false move and she would be banished back to the children’s table upstairs, where a strict nanny would lecture on the importance of etiquette, how to chew with your mouth closed, and the need to keep your elbows off the table.
Chloe noted that even though James had stepped down, he still remained seated at the head of the table. Chloe knew it was out of respect for his father that Dirk would never push the issue.
Dirk remained seated to his right. Damien had sat her next to his father on his left, in his usual seat. Chloe knew James wanted her close. Damien settled himself on her other side. He rested his hand on the back of her chair, his fingers in easy reach of her shoulders, which he occasionally caressed in a familiar way.
“So, Chloe, how have you been?” Dirk asked while reaching for his wine glass.
“I’m fine,” Chloe replied into his pensive expression. She took a dainty bite from her salad plate.
She understood that for a brief while Candy had experienced problems in her pregnancy and Dirk was unable to leave her. She was secretly happy Dirk had been unable to track her earlier. Dirk was very good; there was no doubt in Chloe’s mind he would have found her. Dirk could find anyone, anywhere, anytime.
Though feeling a certain amount of shame at her thoughts, Chloe was grateful she had missed her mother’s funeral. She admitted to herself she felt certain anger with her for not protecting her from her father and then not taking care of her when she needed her.
Even though it had been at the request of her granny, Chloe still felt it was her mother’s fault she was sent away. Perhaps now she would begin to heal from her anguished childhood, now that she was surrounded with loved ones. She wanted only to forget the past.
“What were you up to?” James asked casually enough. A small piece of lobster was suspended in the air, halfway to his mouth.
Chloe knew he had been agitated his man had been unable to locate her until she had permitted it. Not many had eluded James for any length of time. Dirk had been a marvelous teacher, brilliant really.
Chloe had spent many nights listening to his ‘special’ stories of how to avoid detection of others, skilled others. His lectures were thorough and fascinating—his rendition of bedtime stories. She had hung onto and remembered every word, then put her abilities to good use.
“I had recently lost my job and decided it wasn’t a field I wanted to be in after all. It just wasn’t challenging enough, I was bored. I went wandering to different places, trying to reconnect with myself,” Chloe said innocently.
James was studying her shrewdly. It was subtle, almost undetectable, but her eye flickered quickly before she could control it. James was too much the professional not to see it for what it was. She knew he could tell she was lying.
“You’re in some kind of trouble!” he declared, looking horrified. “Damn it! I knew I should have kept a man on you at all times. Are you in danger?” He sat straighter in his chair, alarmed, his dinner forgotten.
“It’s nothing, really,” Chloe protested immediately. She reached over to clasp his hand, trying to soothe his outrage.
* * * *
Dirk could see the tension build within his father. He knew where his father’s anger would be directed. It was he who had suggested they give Chloe some space.
“I knew I should have brought you back sooner, kicking and screaming if need be. So much for giving a loved one some space.” James retorted the last sarcastically, while glaring at Dirk.
“Calm down, Dad. Give her a chance,” Dirk said patiently.
“You mean give her some space!” James again thundered sarcastically.
“James, it was nothing really, just a little harassing note. I really was bored with my job and took it as a sign to travel for a while,” Chloe soothed.
“What kind of harassing note?” Dirk said, instantly on the defensive. The woman in front of him was family, like a baby sister. No one harassed his baby sister.
“It was meaningless. I threw it away and forgot all about it,” Chloe said, somewhat evasively and a touch too bubbly.
Dirk could see her sudden agitation. She wasn’t fooling him; she had been afraid. His protective streak fired up and already he was planning on what men to have handy to secure the home for the evening. He would send a few others out first thing to gather information. Right after dinner he would sequester Chloe away in a room and demand she remember what the note said. His powers of persuasion could not be denied. He would be relentless.
Looking around at the others, he could see now was neither the time nor the place. Chloe had just returned home. He could see Candy’s eagerness on getting better acquainted with her, as were the other women and his son-in-law. Damien was scowling and hovering closer to her protectively, guarding her. Glancing at his father, he could tell the man was agitated. It would not do to upset everyone needlessly.
“So did you find yourself?” Dirk asked her somewhat cheekily, trying to lighten the atmosphere, taking control of the conversation and redirecting it.
Beneath his calm persona, he was planning. His mind was working at a furious rate. She was going to tell him everything. It wouldn’t take much. After all, she was only a helpless female and used to obeying his commands, following his orders without the slightest hesitation. It wouldn’t take long to get to the bottom of this.
* * * *
Chloe sat stubbornly, a deep scowl on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest, a chest that was heaving in frustration. Her look was dark. Dirk ran a cool hand over his face in agitation.
“Let’s try this once more,” Dirk began.
“Dirk, I’m tired,” Chloe whined.
“Then work with me,” Dirk demanded through gritted teeth. Damn! When had she gotten so infuriatingly like a woman! Dirk regarded her intensely, then sighed. She was a woman.
Dirk realized he had been going about this all wrong; he had been commanding and coercing, then cajoling her as one would a child. She wasn’t the little girl he u
sed to love to cuddle in his arms anymore, someone who hung onto his every word. She had a life of her own. She hadn’t needed them for three years. She hadn’t needed him for three years. Dirk sat down before her and took her hands in his own.
“Why won’t you tell me what the letter said, Chloe? Are you afraid, or perhaps embarrassed?” he asked with sudden insight.
Chloe’s gaze shifted away from him. “It was rude and vulgar. Not something I care to dwell on or repeat,” she admitted quietly.
Dirk realized she was embarrassed. He stroked a large hand down her cheek. “Honey, you can tell me anything.”
“Oh really, Dirk! How about my first sexual experience, should we start there?” Chloe said, eyes snapping.
Wolf chuckled and Dirk felt his face color; he hid his expression. On reflection Dirk realized that perhaps he wouldn’t want to hear about that particular experience. Especially when Damien was looking so guilty. Scowling, he looked directly into her eyes. “You’re taking advantage of my feelings for you,” he finally accused.
“And your coercion tactics leave something to be desired,” she snapped back irritably.
“Chloe,” James began, “Dirk is concerned for you and our family. If someone is threatening you they could be a danger to Jamie, Carrie or the twins, or any other woman or child under this roof, now that you’re here.”
Chloe looked at James, stricken. Her face paled. “I would never, James, never…” she began, then burst into frustrated tears. “I’m so sorry, I hadn’t thought of it that way. I was just so pissed at Dirk trying to coerce me as though I’m a child. I never thought anyone would be stupid enough to come near your home.”
James gathered her shaking body closely. “Of course you wouldn’t, my dear. But knowing what we do doesn’t prepare you for dealing with what we do. Now tell me, sweetheart, what did the letter say?”
“It said he was coming for me. It said disgusting, lewd things about what he would do when he got me. That I wasn’t safe anywhere, that no one could protect me. That I would be begging him for death, but he planned on keeping me locked away, his own personal toy that he could break if he wished.
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