He met her eyes again. “I don’t have minions, Laidy. I’ve only ever been your minion,” he whispered.
“Such an expert manipulator. I could almost believe you…if I didn’t know better.”
“If you must hate me, then hate me for the right reason. I didn’t take Augie from you, but I wasn’t here to stop him from being taken. Hate me for that. I do.”
Troy was taking a while fetching her slippers. Owen was glad for the time it gave him with her; they needed to have this convo. “And as for killing me, give me the chance to bring Augie back and secure Troy. Once that is done, I will stand in your firing line.” He leaned in close, bringing his face near hers, as close as he could without touching her, while he whispered, “But you alone must pull the trigger.” He leaned back so he could watch her reaction to his words. He saw the sorrow that passed through her expression before she released him and straightened.
“You were in my room.”
“I was.”
“Why?”
“I was worried about you.”
“Now you worry about me.”
“I didn’t worry about you before because I thought you were dead,” he said. Her eyes widened. “But there hasn’t been a day that passed that I didn’t think about the accident. It changed my life, Laidy, losing you. It cut a piece out of me that never healed over. That piece, this past decade, it’s just gone.”
Her face hardened. “I lived it. You missed it. But it’s you who are the victim. That’s just great, Owen. Really great.”
She was angry. Understandably so…and yet he still didn’t understand. He probably wouldn’t until she opened up to him. Jax certainly wasn’t going to fill in the blanks. The coward had already taken off.
“What was the meaning of that picture?” she asked.
“You don’t remember?”
“No.”
Owen drew back. He stared at her. They’d spent a week together with the chickenpox, both of them feverish and miserable, and she didn’t remember. Clearly his stupid drawing had sucked. He tried to focus on that rather than dwell on the fact that he remembered everything about her…everything, while she’d forgotten everything about him.
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It was nothing.” Troy was coming down the hallway, sparing both of them further torture.
7
Owen went downstairs for dinner. He’d borrowed a suit from Jax’s wardrobe. They were still the same size, though Jax’s taste in clothes was different from Owen’s. At least he suits in his closet. Owen thought about how casual things were at Blade’s. The only thing the team dressed for was missions.
The house was quiet, but then, he was about a half-hour early for supper. He wandered into the dining room. There were only two place settings on the table. Wasn’t hard to guess who was the unwelcome party. Owen bellowed for the butler. He came out of the kitchen wearing a starched white apron over his suit.
“Mr. Tremaine. How may I help you?”
“There seems to be a place setting missing.”
Spencer looked at the table. A faint wash of color tinted his face. “There is not a place setting missing. Ms. Jacobs insisted you would be taking your supper in your room.”
“No. I will be joining her and Troy.”
“I see. Then I’ll add a place for you.”
“Thank you.” Owen wandered into the parlor to pour himself a glass of Balcones. At six, Owen heard Addy and Troy come down the stairs. They were having a cheerful conversation about several sets of mathematical equations, which stopped when Addy saw him. He gave a slight nod to her. She wore her wig again. Why? Why hide herself from him or anyone?
“You,” she hissed.
“Yes, me.” He stood and set his glass down. “May I walk you in to supper?”
“No. I made it clear to Spencer that you won’t be dining with us.”
He gave her a frosty smile. “Then you’ve made an error, for this is exactly where I need to be.”
Had he not been watching her so closely, he might have missed the shiver that passed through her. There was a time she screamed to see him, but with joy, not fury. Troy’s eyes widened as he glanced back and forth between them. He put his hand in his mother’s.
Owen gestured toward the dining room. “Shall we?”
They stood there as if frozen in place. It gave Owen a chance to take in everything about her. Her silky shirt. Her earrings. Her slacks. Her strappy heels. And the small bandage on her toe. He frowned at it. How was that possible? At the time he’d cleaned her wound, he’d thought they really should go to a hospital for stitches. He’d managed to seal the wound, but had still been worried at leaving it that way. Now all the wound needed was a regular bandage. It didn’t even look swollen or bruised.
He let it go for the moment. Later, when Troy wasn’t there, he’d ask her about it.
Addy seemed locked in place.
Owen frowned.
“Mommy?” Troy whispered when they didn’t go into the dining room. He tugged on her hand.
Her smile looked forced. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m suddenly not feeling well. I think we’ll have to eat upstairs.” She pulled Troy with her out of the living room.
Her son frowned and looked behind them. “But Mr. Tremaine’s here.”
“He’s a grownup. He can fend for himself.”
“But…”
Addy rushed her son into the foyer and up the stairs. She tried to keep her hand steady, though her whole body was shaking. Echoes of all the times her husband had brought unwanted guests to their house kept ripping through her. All those years. Night after night of hell. Day after day of forced smiles, despite the bruises, despite the threats to Augie, and then Troy. The years since her divorce weren’t enough time to make her forget. A lifetime wouldn’t be enough time.
A cold sweat broke out all over her body. There was no way she could have sat at the same table with Owen, knowing what she now did. None of her life was the same as before her divorce—the staff were different; she was different. Stronger, maybe. She’d promised herself she would never again have to suffer through unwanted visitors, and yet one—the worst one of all—was being foisted on her.
“Mommy?” Troy whispered as he jogged up the stairs beside her. “Mr. Tremaine’s a nice man. He was playing with me this afternoon.”
“I’d like you to stay away from him. We don’t know his intentions. I’m not ready to trust him.”
She thought about her escape plan, the one she’d put in place after Augie was taken. Bonnie, her former companion and the boys’ nanny, had helped her set it up through her friend Santo. When Wendell fired Bonnie, she’d left Addy a note that the escape route was still safe, if she ever wanted to use it.
Should she go now? She shut her eyes, remembering she’d had the same misgivings about leaving before…and then it was too late. Augie had been taken.
Three Years Ago
Saddle Notch Ridge, Wyoming
I can help you. Hope started with those simple words that Bonnie had written on a note and handed to Addy on her breakfast tray, hidden beneath her coffee cup. Come outside so we can talk. Addy looked at the nanny. She’d been with Addy since the day Augie was born. Unfailingly kind and always sympathetic, Bonnie had been a lifeline. Addy jumped at the thought of getting out of her hell, until reality sank back in. She’d tried to run before. It hadn’t ended well.
Before Addy could ask questions, Bonnie cut her off. “I’m going to take the boys for a walk. They’d love you to join us.”
Addy met Bonnie’s intense look. A little flutter of hope blossomed in her chest.
“Just go dress.”
Addy showered, lingering a little too long in the hot water. It made her bruises ache a little less. Maybe it also washed off a little of the ugliness of her marriage. It took her an hour to shower, dry her hair, put her makeup on, then slip into a proper outfit. She couldn’t just throw on some slouchy comfort clothes. Cecil didn’t like them. He wanted her t
o dress as befitted his wife. All couture, all the time.
Even when it hurt, as it did now.
She slipped on a pair of Burberry ankle boots, then rushed outside, hoping Bonnie was still waiting. She was. Sitting on a bench while the boys played a game of chase around the large playground Cecil had put in for them.
Occasionally, visitors brought their children, but that was rare. Her boys were growing up with only themselves as companions. Echoes of Addy’s own lonely childhood slipped in through the cracks in her wall. She’d rarely had playmates either. Only Owen, when he would visit Wendell.
Anger washed the warmth of that memory away, as it always did. She’d believed the lie her father, Wendell, and Owen had convinced her of, that her future was bright and full of delightful dreams.
That had never been her fate.
Bonnie came over. Her kind eyes read too much in Addy’s. Addy had to look away. “I have money I’ve been saving. I want to give it to you.”
“No,” Addy said. “They would know.”
Bonnie shook her head. “I’ve been setting it aside from each paycheck. I don’t need it. I receive food and boarding here. I have little need. And I still have my official savings that they could track.”
Addy looked around, wondering if this conversation was being listened to, even though they were outdoors…which made her wonder how much of what was said indoors had been heard. “They listen to us inside, don’t they?”
“I think so. Maybe they watch us, too. We have to be very, very careful.”
Addy closed her eyes. She’d been in this hell for seven years. How had the time gone so fast? When this nightmare started, she’d woken up to find herself in a hospital, her mind twisted with memories and visions that haunted her still. Her stepmother told her the truth then. About Owen. How he’d rigged her death, killing an innocent girl so he could steal Addy away. Roberta had told her she’d been married to protect her from Owen. She reminded Addy that she and her dad had never liked Owen, had always feared it would come to some terrible end. Like it had.
Addy had had a hard time putting the pieces together. She’d stayed in the hospital for weeks. A shrink was brought in to work with her. She’d never seen the side of Owen her parents and the doctors talked about, but she must have been blind, because she was living proof of what they were saying.
The depression she went into was severe. And then came the day that her husband came to take her home.
The first time she met Cecil, she felt sick. He was older than her, by maybe thirty years. And though his voice was soft, his eyes were hard. She couldn’t remember marrying him. She wanted out of the marriage, but her father said doing so would harm his career. She would be taken care of in a style befitting a princess. Like she cared for that. Like she cared for anything since Owen had turned on her so terribly.
She didn’t see Wendell in those days. Her dad said he was not happy with her marriage and was crushed by Owen’s actions. He said Wendell would come around eventually, but it took him years to do that.
That first year was a fog, most of it spent under Cecil’s harsh focus and brutal intimacy, until her pregnancy was far enough along for all to see. After that, he was never around. She’d gotten more than a year of peace following Augie’s birth. She began to heal a little, find a new norm. Her parents visited. Cecil came home when Augie was a year old. That was when her hell really began. There were times she’d attempted to get out, but they all worsened her situation.
What made her think this attempt would be any different? “It won’t work,” she told Bonnie.
“I have a little house. They don’t know I own it. I bought it before I started here. I gave my friend the money to buy it for me.”
Addy frowned. Bonnie had been preparing this for a while…and not for Addy’s benefit. How terrible this world was that her own nanny was trying to sneak out of it.
“It’s for my retirement. It’s safe. You can go there. The money I’ve been stashing is there. You can use it to get food and supplies so they can’t track you.”
“Why would you do this? It’s a risk for you as much as for me. It’s your retirement. And if they find out you helped me…”
Bonnie turned to watch the boys. “I can’t have children. You and your boys are the closest I’ll ever be to a family of my own. I can’t stand by and do nothing when I could help you.”
Addy’s heart beat hard. It could work. Cecil wasn’t home. He was usually gone for weeks after one of his attacks.
But then she remembered why it wouldn’t work. “The guards search your car when you leave.”
“The drive is a couple miles long. I could let you out before I get to the guard station, then meet you on the other side. It’s rough terrain, but if you’re careful, you and the boys can make it.”
“You’ve given this some thought.”
“I have. His attacks on you are getting more frequent and more violent. He’s going to kill you one day. And then what will happen to your boys?”
Addy closed her eyes. She had only to inventory her aches and pains to know her window of opportunity to get out was closing fast. “How will we do it?”
“I go shopping every Tuesday at about this time. We’ll go today.”
“I can’t get in your car. If they’re watching us, they’ll see that.”
“Then take the boys for a walk in the woods. When you’re out of sight from the house, head southwest, straight for the road. It’s a long walk for the boys. And you’ll have to move fast. That will bring you to the road far enough from the guard station that no one will see you getting into my car.”
“Bonnie, you can’t come back either. He’ll kill you for this.”
“I know. I’ll stay with you at my house. The search will die down in a little while.”
God, the search. She hadn’t even thought of that. Cecil would have his men out looking for them, telling the media lies, getting the cops involved. He’d say Addy kidnapped her own boys.
Before she could let her panic explode, she reminded herself that she had to take it one step at a time. Get out. Then make a plan. She would be completely on her own, though. She couldn’t call her parents. Or Wendell. And certainly not Owen, who’d gotten her into this in the first place.
8
Owen took a seat at the long, empty table as he listened to their fading footsteps. He wasn’t sure hatred was a strong enough word for the vibe Addy was giving off. There was an open bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon on the table. He filled his glass, then just stared at the blood-red liquid. Kelan probably had the perfect word for it, but it wouldn’t be in English.
How long did wounds of the heart live in the blood? Forever?
A server came in with a tray of plates, followed by the butler.
“Oh, my apologies, sir. I thought I heard Ms. Jacobs come down,” Spencer said.
“She did. And then she went back upstairs. I believe she would like their supper served up there.”
“Very good. I’ll see to it, then,” he said as he served the first course.
Owen looked down at his plate of succulent filet mignon. Everything here was far more formal than anything he’d become used to. The ceremonies were the same as they’d been at Senator Jacobs’ house. Nothing like the noisy, chaotic, familial meals of the team and their women and children. He missed them. He lifted his glass and swallowed an inelegant mouthful.
Visits to the Jacobs’ or to Val’s had been welcome breaks in his childhood. After his dad and Val’s had had some sort of falling out, he would have gone crazy if it hadn’t been for the time he’d spent with Jax and Addy.
He’d been a little surprised to learn that after his father’s death, his wishes had been for Owen to go live with Val. He didn’t think their fathers had talked in years. It had been even more shocking when he’d gotten the word in a postmortem letter that his father expected him to protect Val.
From what? Or whom?
Shit. He straightened in his chair. Everyt
hing mattered. Every action. Every word. Every outcome. All of it had meaning. The letter his dad wrote hadn’t been one he’d drafted years before his death, when setting up his estate. No, it had likely been written after he’d faked his death. He’d sent Owen to Val’s on purpose. But why?
Owen picked up his silverware and cut into his steak, eating absent-mindedly while he pondered things he should have long ago considered. When the meal was over, he thought about going up to check on Addy, remembering what happened with her toe.
How had it healed so quickly? The sink was full of blood. She’d dripped blood all the way back to the house from the playground. It was not a surface scratch but a deep cut. And now it was almost gone.
When he finished his meal, he went outside and found himself walking they way they’d taken back to the house. It was dark outside but the moon was bright. Someone had rinsed it off. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
The November evening was cold, though not nearly as icy as it was inside Addy’s home.
He stood in the shadows, watching the lights slowly switch off around the upper floors of the house even as they came on in the servant quarters. He couldn’t help but remember different times, when he still had hope for the future.
Ten Years Ago
Fairfax, Virginia
As far as Owen knew, this party wasn’t going to be a huge party. Not all of Addy’s friends were still in the area. Since she’d graduated a year early, many of her circle were still away at school. He was glad for a quieter celebration, though he knew the senator would likely monetize the event as an opportunity to fete supporters and connect powerful lobbyists with other players in the political game.
Damn, Owen was glad he wasn’t a politician. Having to cater to bullshit from people he neither knew nor liked was not his flavor of candy.
He looked at Jax as they parked. His friend’s tension had grown the whole trip in, mirroring Owen’s feelings, ones he couldn’t account for, except to acknowledge that this wasn’t only a graduation celebration. It was also Addy’s birthday party. Specifically, her twenty-first birthday, which happened last week. He and Jax had promised to take her for the obligatory tour of bars in Georgetown, now that she was legal. They’d be her bodyguards and designated drivers. Truth was, neither of them was looking forward to the party. Owen didn’t want to share Addy with anyone else in the short amount of time he had with her this weekend. And Jax, hell, Jax was a bundle of nerves. Hopefully on the trip home, Owen would find a way to make him spill. The tense vibe Jax was giving off was out of proportion to the risks involved in a tour of bars.
Forsaken Duty, The Red Team Series, Book 9 Page 6