Running Strong

by Christy Reece

  “That’s what they wanted you to think. What they wish was true.”

  “Who are they?” Dylan asked.

  “Daniel and Clarissa Fletcher, my in-laws. Former in-laws.”

  “Why would they want you dead?”

  She leaned against the doorframe to brace herself and get her bearings. Seeing Raphael in person was even more of a shock than she had anticipated. The brief recording of him in Daniel’s office hadn’t prepared her for the impact. He looked so much like the young man she’d once known, but he looked totally different, too. He was now all man—tough, strong, confident. It was both heaven and hell to be this close to him again. Despite distrusting almost every living person, she found herself wanting to throw herself into his arms. She couldn’t do that. Not only did she not know him now, he likely hated her.

  And if he didn’t now, he would soon.

  Apparently interpreting her struggle as exhaustion, Raphael pushed a chair toward her. Since her legs were decidedly weak, she collapsed into the chair with a grateful sigh.

  Before walking away from her, he squeezed her hand gently. A weight lifted from her heart. Maybe he didn’t hate her after all. When he turned to face her again, all traces of emotion were gone as if that small, affectionate gesture had never occurred.

  “Tell us what the hell’s going on,” Noah said. “Why did Daniel Fletcher tell Raphael you were dead?”

  “It’s a long story. One I’ll be happy to share with you, as I need your help, too.”

  “Are you in contact with your father?”

  She inwardly flinched at the word father. Stanford Reddington had no idea what it took to be a father, nor did he care.

  “I haven’t seen or heard from Reddington in years.”

  “Then how did you know about my family’s abduction?”

  The question came from Noah, but both Raphael and Dylan shared the same suspicious expression. She understood their confusion as well as their anger. Someone precious had been taken from them. She knew that feeling all too well.

  “I didn’t until yesterday.” Her gaze strayed to Raphael. “When I saw a recording of your meeting with Daniel Fletcher.”

  “How did you see a recording?”

  “I have a contact inside Fletcher’s household. I had asked for…information on what was going on inside the house. She left me the recording, claiming she thought I might be interested.”

  “You don’t believe her?” Dylan asked.

  “No. I think it was a setup.” She sent a grimace of apology toward Noah. “And I think the abduction of your family is all part of a larger picture. Mainly to get to me.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Noah barked.

  “My in-laws had me committed to a mental institution. I managed to escape, but I know they’re looking for me.”

  “And you think they’re trying to lure you out of hiding by abducting my family? That’s a helluva stretch, Giselle.”

  Yes, it was, and she knew she had some major hills to climb before they believed anything she said.

  “Why the hell would your in-laws have you committed?” Raphael asked.

  “They claimed I tried to kill myself. That I was a danger to myself and my…and others.”

  “Kill yourself how?” Dylan asked.

  “An overdose.” She shook her head. “I have never willingly taken anything other than antibiotics or over-the-counter pain meds for a headache.”

  “What happened?”

  “I had a meeting with my in-laws. I told them I was leaving. Clarissa gave me a glass of lemonade. It must’ve been drugged. The next thing I knew, I was in a mental hospital.”

  They made no effort to hide the doubt in their eyes. She couldn’t blame them. If she hadn’t lived it, she wouldn’t believe it herself. Who would believe that one of the most prominent and respected families in the United States could be guilty of drugging their daughter-in-law and committing her to a mental institution? No one. And that was the reason she had given up on anyone helping her.

  The Fletchers were known all over the world. Not a hint of scandal or impropriety had ever been written about them. Even her ill-advised marriage to their son had ended up making them look like paragons of virtue and acceptance.

  How they did this, she didn’t know. What she did know—knew to her soul—was that they were as evil as any hardened criminal. Money, influence, and power had a way of hiding a multitude of sins.

  “Do you have any proof of this?” Noah asked.

  Of course she didn’t. “No.”

  “Why would they do this?”

  There were many answers to that question, and for now, there was only one she was willing to answer.

  “From the moment I married their son, they wanted to get rid of me. After he died, it became easier.”

  “If what you say is true, why not just have you killed? Why put you in the hospital?”

  “I’ve asked myself that question a thousand times. I don’t know the answer.”

  “How did you get away from the hospital?” Raphael asked.

  “I hit one of the guards over the head and ran away.”

  “When?”

  She closed her eyes as she whispered, “Almost five months ago.”

  “Where have you been all this time?”

  “For several weeks, I could do nothing. I was given drugs at the hospital, and it took a long time to overcome the effects.”

  “If you left the hospital with nothing, how have you been living? Where have you been staying? Someone must have helped you.”

  She wasn’t sure which one of them was looking at her with more distrust. She knew how this looked. She could easily be working with Reddington. He could have sent her here to learn their plan so he could be ready for them.

  It was likely a more believable explanation than the truth.

  Talking about what happened after she escaped was difficult. Some of it she didn’t really remember other than vague images and soft voices of encouragement. Her recovery had been long, arduous, and the most physically painful experience she’d ever endured. Though it wasn’t something she planned to describe in detail, she gave them what she could. “I stayed in a homeless shelter for a while. Made up a story about hiding from my abusive ex-husband. They had medical staff who helped me with the effects of the drugs.”

  “If Fletcher’s people were looking for you and have as much influence as you say, I’m surprised they didn’t find you.”

  “Their priority at the shelter was protecting me from my abusive husband. Only a few people even knew I was there. When I was strong enough, I left the shelter. I knew if I stayed, I could be putting everyone in danger.”

  She made her recovery sound a lot more simplistic than it had been. Weeks had gone by before she finally remembered everything—who she was and what had been taken from her. After that, she worked her ass off to get healthy.

  “And then what?” Dylan asked.

  “My mother had to move again after my marriage.” She couldn’t look anyone in the eye as she spoke those words. What she had done to her mother…done to her family was one of the biggest sorrows and regrets of her life.

  She cleared her throat and continued, “Before she left, she gave me the location of a lockbox. She told me to use it only if I had no other choice. She left me money. Fake IDs. Anything I might need if I needed to hide.”

  Having lived as Stanford Reddington’s prisoner had made Sarah determined that neither she nor her children would ever have to endure imprisonment again.

  If not for that safety net, Giselle wasn’t sure what she would have done. It enabled her to stay hidden until she was able to face what she needed to do.

  All three men continued to look at her with varying levels of distrust. She couldn’t blame them. Considering who her father was and the family she was accusing of trying to destroy her, she could certainly understand their feelings. The truth was often harder to believe.

  As they fired questions at her
, she kept her eyes focused on Dylan as she answered. Though his expression was just as wary, she found his distrust easier to handle. Looking at the bruises on Noah’s face, the agony in his eyes, made her feel ill. Reddington was responsible for his pain—the man she once called Papa. She might not be responsible for what had happened, but the stench of his existence was inside her. As was his blood.

  Looking at Raphael was even more painful, but in a different way. Seeing him again after all these years called to mind what he had once meant to her. What they had meant to each other. Seven years was a long time to hang on to a dream you knew could never come true. She was surprised and not altogether pleased that those feelings lingered. She could not and would not let that impair her thinking.

  She answered each question as succinctly as she could without giving everything away. No, she didn’t go to the police. Who would believe her? If she had gone to the authorities, she would be dead right now. Of that, she had no doubt.

  When the questions became repetitive, she tried to stay patient. She knew the drill. They were trying to trip her up. It didn’t matter. She had nothing to hide. Well, almost nothing.

  “This person who gave you the recording of my meeting with Fletcher. Who is she?”

  She forced herself to look directly at Raphael when she answered. “An employee of the Fletchers. We became friends while I lived with them. After I recovered, I approached her and asked for her help.”

  “What kind of help did you think she could provide?”

  “I needed to know what was going on in the household.”

  Though her answer was an obvious deflection, thankfully no one delved deeper for a more complete answer.

  “Why do you think she’s betrayed you?”

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Why would she leave me a recording of you meeting with Fletcher? She knows nothing about my history with you.”

  “And you think Fletcher teamed up with Reddington to get you out in the open?”

  “Yes. Daniel will stop at nothing to get to me.”

  When none of them looked convinced, she leaned forward, zeroed her gaze in on Noah. “What are the chances of your family being taken at the same time I am being hunted? I believe with all my heart that Daniel set up this entire scenario to draw me out.”

  “How would they know that you would even show up to offer your help?”

  “It’s a chance they were willing to take. My seeing that recording almost ensured that I would come to you.”

  “And you played right into their hands. You came running to help?”

  She detected no sarcasm in Dylan’s question, but she felt defensive all the same. She hated that McCall’s family was going through hell, and she would do whatever she could to help them, but she did have an ulterior motive as well. One that Daniel was all too aware of and would use to his advantage any way that he could. However, until she was sure they would help her, she would wait on revealing her true reason.

  “Yes, I thought I could help.”

  “Help how?”

  “The abduction of your family might be a ruse to get to me, but Reddington likely believes he is in control. Hurting you, causing you grief, is part of this, but his ultimate goal is to get to his family, specifically my mother. He’ll want to see her, possibly exchange your family for his.”

  “So everyone gets what they want. Reddington gets to see your mother. Noah is hurt in the process.”

  “And Daniel Fletcher finds me.”

  “You think all of this was done in an effort to get you to a certain place for an assassination attempt,” Dylan said.

  “Yes.” Surprisingly, considering the subject matter, the tension in her body lessened a little. At least they were considering her theory.

  “Then, if that’s the case, you don’t need to be involved in this at all,” Raphael said. “We’ll do this without you.”

  “No. I want to be involved. This is because of me. I need to help.”

  “You would do this for me?” Noah asked. “Why?”

  For the first time in she didn’t know how long, she was able to smile sincerely. “You saved my mother’s life—all of our lives. I owe you. We all owe you a debt of gratitude. I’d like to repay you by helping you get your family back.”

  “Or you could be part of Reddington’s plan, and you’re here to find out what we know.”

  Fury erupted within Giselle, and she sprang to her feet. “I am in no way associated with that bastard. He raped and abused my mother for years, and I want nothing to do with him.”

  After all she had told them, they still didn’t believe her. Why had she expected anything different? Anger burning pure and bright, she strode with furious indignation to the door. “I hope you get your family back, Mr. McCall.”

  When her hand touched the door, Noah barked out, “Stop.”

  She turned, glaring at them all. Daring them to throw another accusation her way.

  “I’m sorry, Giselle,” Noah said. “I needed to know for sure.”

  It had been a test, one she had apparently passed. That realization didn’t lessen the hurt, but it did diminish her anger. This was Noah’s family. It was stupid of her to expect him to give her his blind faith. And her explanation, though perfectly valid in her mind, was definitely out there.

  She noted that they were all looking at her with less suspicion and something that looked like acceptance. Without warning, her legs went out from under her, and everything dimmed around her. She felt strong arms holding her up and looked up into dark, beautiful eyes. Eyes she used to dream about.

  “I’m fine.” She tried to pull away, but the hands holding her didn’t let go. Instead, he pushed her gently into the chair she’d jumped up from moments ago.

  Relieved that she hadn’t made a total fool of herself by passing out, she managed a small smile of thanks to Raphael. He squeezed her shoulder gently and stepped back. She still felt the warmth of those large hands and she looked away, afraid of the feelings she was suddenly having. She had no time for any tender emotions. She had an agenda. Nothing else mattered.

  “It’s time to put your cards on the table, Giselle.” McCall’s voice, raspy from the strain of the last few days, broke her out of her trance. “We’ll gladly accept your help, but there’s something you’re keeping from us.”

  Raphael had once told her that Noah McCall had a sixth sense about people. That he could read them, seemed to know what they were thinking. She now saw what he meant. But these people didn’t know her, and she didn’t know them…not even Raphael. Not anymore.

  “If you expect us to help you, Giselle, we need to know everything.”

  She focused on each of their faces, saw the determination, the strength. They saved people, rescued innocents. If she didn’t trust them, who then was she going to trust?

  Taking a breath, she took another huge gamble and answered softly, “They have my son.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “What?” Raphael found himself grappling on several different levels. Giselle was alive. Dammit, she was alive, sitting here in front of him. In the deepest part of his soul, he had been grieving. He hadn’t realized quite how much until she’d walked through the door and taken that ridiculous wig off. Seeing her again, especially after thinking she was dead, had almost brought him to his knees.

  Daniel and Clarissa Fletcher, her in-laws, the bastion of American society—a height that others only dreamed about attaining—were in cahoots with Stanford Reddington, convicted human trafficker, in an effort to find and kill their daughter-in-law? As farfetched conspiracy theories went, this was at the top. As unbelievable as it seemed, he saw some truth to it. And it was clear that Giselle believed it to her soul.

  And her in-laws had her son? Nowhere in LCR’s research had a child been mentioned. Admittedly, that was no major surprise. Hiding a grandson should be no real problem for the Fletchers. Question was, why would they even want to hide the fact that they had a grandson? Typical grandparents
carried photos of their grandkids on their phones and in their wallets. They talked about them to anyone and everyone. They didn’t hide them away as if they were ashamed of them. Unless they had cause to keep him a secret.

  “Start from the beginning,” Noah said calmly. “Why do the Fletchers have your son? And why do they hate you enough to want to see you dead?”

  Giselle was twice as pale than when she first arrived. Recalling trauma was damn difficult. Doing so in front of three doubting Thomases would be worse. Even though every protective instinct told him to demand that they lay off for a while, give her a break, he wouldn’t. Keeping her on edge, pushing for information, was the best way to get to the truth. LCR would do everything possible to help her if she was telling them the truth. If not, this kind of questioning would reveal the holes in her story.

  As if accepting the inevitability of spilling her guts, she stared sightlessly at the wall and began to recount what had happened. She started where she met Danny Fletcher. Their whirlwind romance had resulted in an elopement to Las Vegas right before they were both scheduled to graduate from college.

  What she said tracked with what Raphael had read in the tabloids. He told himself to listen dispassionately. Anger was a useless emotion. This wasn’t about him or what they’d once had. A child could be at risk.

  “The Fletchers were never unfriendly to me. In fact, they were downright cordial. After Danny died, the pretense stopped.”

  “In what way?” Noah asked.

  “Small things at first. I didn’t pick up on them. After Danny’s death…” She cleared her throat. “I think I was numb, just trying to get through the day. I had a lot of decisions I needed to make. I—”

  As if realizing she’d gotten off track, she shook her head quickly, then continued, “At first it was just Clarissa. Petty little insults I let slide. From my appearance to the way I ate. I was focused on my son. He adored Danny and didn’t understand why he never came home.

  “I’m not sure if I finally woke up from my numbness, or if Clarissa decided she wasn’t being direct enough. Her remarks became meaner, more pointed. I knew I needed to move out. That kind of environment wasn’t healthy for my son. Then she told me I should go away for a while, get a fresh perspective. She said she would see to ‘the boy.’ That’s what she called him most of the time—the boy.”