I gulped so hard it hurt. “Yes,” I admitted sheepishly. “I’m sorry guys, but my priority right now is to keep her safe. I will lead her right into his arms if that’s what I have to do—whatever is necessary to get her back home.”
I was proposing throwing them both to the wolves and destroying a plan that, for Seth, had been years in the making and, for Regan, was an all-consuming mission of revenge. Who’s to say they wouldn’t kill me in my sleep and continue to do what they had originally set out to? With me out of the way, they could hand Kaya over to the real mastermind behind this whole ridiculous plan.
But I had to trust them. If Henry couldn’t find Kaya, and I was left on my own, my odds of getting her out of these mountains were slim to none.
“Listen, I never wanted to put you guys in this situation, and I don’t expect you to understand or forgive me, but it’s just that… I never thought… I didn’t realize I would…”
As usual, words failed me.
“Luke,” said Seth delicately, “you don’t have to explain. Love just happens. It chooses you. It comes crashing in like a herd of jonesing rhinos in a beer store—unexpected, unwanted, uncontrollable, and completely illogical. Regan and I have been there before. We know what it’s like to fall that hard for someone. Although, I don’t necessarily know what it’s like to fall for your own sister…” Seth turned and looked at Regan accusingly.
“Not by blood!” Regan exploded, cheeks instantly turning scarlet, “Not by blood… and if you would have met her, you’d know why!” He rubbed his forehead, his way of calming himself down whenever this particular topic came up. “You know, Kaya kind of reminds me of her—of Miranda. Long, dark hair, tiny waist… strong willed and a fighter but still very naïve in some ways…”
“Miranda sounded like she was an amazing girl,” I said.
Regan stared off into the distance, lost in thought, and then he shrugged off his reminiscing and stood, swiping dirt and a few ants off his knees. “There’s an old Cherokee Traveler’s greeting that’s rather fitting right now, and Luke, since we are on the same journey together, here it goes…” He stared uncomfortably into my eyes with the kind of intensity only Regan could possess, then spoke like the words were literally coming from his soul.
“I will draw thorns from your feet
We will walk the white path of life together
Like a brother of my own blood I will love you, and
I will wipe tears from your eyes
And when you are sad, I will put your aching heart to rest.”
Never had a man quoted poetry to me before. I raised an eyebrow and tried to cover up a smirk with a cough. This redhead was the strangest man I’d ever met.
“In other words, I’ve got your back, Luke,” he said wholeheartedly.
I was really at a loss for words. Seth crinkled up his face and leaned forward with a long piece of grass in his mouth. “I got yer back too, Luke boy. It’s all good,” he said. “Of course, without all that poetry nonsense and stuff. I mean… we’re dudes.”
I felt a bit choked up from the sincerity of these two odd human beings. They were on my side. “Thanks guys.”
Regan nodded, quickly reverting back to his vengeful-doctor character. “Oh, by the way—we’ve already demanded the ransom money from Henry, and Kaya will not be harmed at all as it seems he has agreed to the terms. So… let’s bloody well get Louisa back home where she belongs, all right?”
I cringed and wished the flames would burn away the sound of Louisa’s name in my ears. I couldn’t get my hopes up of ever seeing her again, and I had already come to terms with the fact that she was probably already dead—it was the only way I could carry on. Every other scenario was just too awful to imagine.
While Seth tossed Brutus doggy treats, Regan whittled away at a stick, and a wolf howled in the distance, I worried madly about the two people I loved—Louisa and Kaya.
“Luke,” Seth said loudly, startling me.
“Yeah?”
“Go keep an eye on Kaya,” he said, as if he had read my mind.
The riverbed veered off to the right. I followed it until I came upon her clothes unceremoniously dumped on the ground—she really had taken everything off. The silvery blue light of dusk lit up the river like a sheet of shiny glass, and I could still see the trees on the other side, but Kaya was nowhere to be found. My heart stopped; where was she?
I looked up and down the beach. There was nothing but sun-bleached logs, rock, and masses of lush green grass. I was just about to call her name, but then a figure popped up out of the water—Kaya. The twilight surrounded her and water droplets fell from her soaked hair like jewels and sprinkled the air as she dove under again. After what seemed like forever, she broke the surface once more, rose up, and then slowly stood. The water swirled just below her waist, and she dragged her hands back and forth, skimming its surface. Her bare skin shimmered, and her long hair draped down her back like a waterfall. She had the bar of soap in her hands and started lathering it over her face and body. I was mesmerized. A wrecking ball couldn’t have moved me.
She dove under. I held my breath and sighed in relief when she reappeared. Then, when she stood and turned toward the shore, I fell to my knees; they’d become useless.
“Luke?”
“Yeah, just making sure you were okay. I wasn’t looking, I swear,” I lied, forcing my eyes to keep to the ground.
Her pink-painted toes soon appeared inches from mine. “Do you really swear?” she said.
Damn. She could always tell when I was lying. I lifted my chin and allowed my eyes to follow. There she stood, soaking wet and naked, yet making no effort to cover herself. Water dripped across her breasts, down her stomach, and over her thighs—and all the air left my lungs—she was heart-achingly beautiful. I took a mental snapshot before struggling to my feet and opening a blanket to wrap it around her shoulders. When she said thank you, her green eyes locked onto mine without a hint of embarrassment.
“How is your chest?” she asked, wiping her face with a corner of the scratchy, wool cloth.
“Amazingly, it feels much better at the moment,” I said, wanting to hold her so bad I had to mentally tie my arms to my sides. I cleared my throat and realized I’d better occupy my mind with anything other than what was underneath the blanket. “I’m sorry about earlier—” I started to say.
She shook her head. “I can’t think about that right now, okay?”
I didn’t push it.
“The water was freezing, but it feels amazing to be clean,” she said, and then she ordered me to turn around while she got dressed.
I couldn’t help but peek, only this time my knees became weak for a different reason: the large bruises on her back and the massive one running down her thigh were there because of me. Caused by this awful situation I’d put her in—one I would do my damndest to fix, and then spend a lifetime trying to forget.
I tried to keep it together, but my sanity felt like it was dangling from a string, swaying back and forth just out of my reach. By the light of the lantern hanging from the roof of the tent, I unbuttoned Luke’s shirt while he watched me intently. My mind swam with a thousand questions as I tried to follow Regan’s instructions to the letter, busying myself with the task of playing nurse. It seemed like shooting the cat in the morning was a lifetime ago.
Luke barely flinched, so I took my time, probably more than I needed to, and gently dabbed at his wounds with damp cotton to loosen bits of dried blood. His bare skin was so firm, tight, and smooth, and the muscle under it defined. I wanted to let my hands wander over his stomach and up to his glorious neck but was also content with this deeply satisfying action of caring for him.
The sun had left the sky and had taken every speck of heat with it. I’d draped the warm blanket over my shoulders, grateful Luke had hung it by the fire, but my body absorbed all of its heat. I wished my hair would hurry up and finish drying. The tangled mess could stay wet for hours, and it was getting cold.
Luke shivered when I eased the shirt down from his shoulder to apply the dressing to his arm, which I now realized probably could have used stitches, too. I placed tape across the cut, pulling it together like Regan had instructed before wrapping it back up.
“Will I live, doc?” he teased when I was done.
“You better,” I said far too seriously.
He gave me a sleepy smile and pulled his shirt closed over his chest. I lay down next to him, being careful not to get too close, and arranged the blanket to cover as much of my body as possible, but the air was intent on getting through.
“Listen, I am sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he said.
“It’s okay. I just don’t wanna talk about it.”
“That’s fine, I understand. Goodnight Kaya,” he said and clicked off the lantern.
I hated the dark but had too much pride to tell him that. Instead, I tried to concentrate on the sounds of the river, the water moving, and the smell of zest soap on my hands, but nothing diverted my mind from the two huge questions I’d been avoiding: the one I had to ask myself, and one I desperately wanted to ask him.
“How much are you paying to get Louisa back?” I asked bluntly.
My question came at him from out of nowhere, only because being concealed in darkness gave me the courage to ask it. I wasn’t really concerned with the dollar amount, but I knew his would lead me to what I really wanted to know.
“A million,” he answered.
“And where is she now?”
“With the sick bastards who took her from me.”
I felt the depth of his anger and the pain in his voice. It was like a knife in my chest. “Will you marry her when you get her back?”
“Marry her?” he asked incredulously.
“Um, yeah. You don’t have a ring on your finger, so I assume if you’re going to such great lengths to rescue a girl, you have intentions of—”
He laughed, cutting me off. “I wanna show you something, okay?” He turned the lantern back on, propped himself up on his elbow, and reached into his shirt pocket. “I want to show you a picture of Louisa May.”
He carefully handed me a very worn photograph. It was obvious he’d held it often. I imagined him gazing at it longingly and didn’t know if I really wanted to see what she looked like—this woman who he so dearly loved. She was probably incredibly pretty, and I was already sick with jealousy.
“Please, look at it,” he said, sensing my apprehension.
I sat up and held the picture under the light. It didn’t make sense; Luke was holding a small child, maybe two or three years old, with golden hair and a smile like his. She held a pink stuffed bunny in her arms and was snuggled happily against Luke’s chest.
“Louisa May loves bunnies,” he said thoughtfully.
“She is… this little girl… this is Louisa May? She is a… you have a child?” I was completely dumbstruck.
“She’s my little sister. That picture was taken on her second birthday.”
I felt like such an idiot. I was jealous of his baby sister. That’s who he was fighting for, who he would never give up on! I looked up at him and fully realized my mistake, then fully realized the nightmare he was living—someone had taken his little sister.
“She is beautiful,” I said as the dam holding back my tears came close to breaking. I was unable to take my eyes away from the photograph even as he took it back and carefully put it in his shirt pocket.
“What happened?” I had to ask.
He lay back and folded his arms under his head so I could freely stare at his profile. “When my mum died, I was left with nothing. They took the house, the furniture—everything. I was nineteen with a one-year-old baby to look after. I had no money and no place to live…” He hesitated.
This was difficult for him to talk about. “I won’t judge you, Luke. I promise.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, I made friends with a guy who got me involved with a couple of drug dealers—easy jobs, good pay—and eventually, Louisa and I moved in with him. One night, I did a small job on my own and left Louisa with my roommate. When I returned, the music was cranking loud, and all the lights were on. It was after three in the morning, and Louisa was usually in bed by eight. I found my roommate and his friend in the living room totally wasted. I then went to check on Louisa, but she wasn’t in our room. They laughed when I asked where she was, and one of the assholes pointed to the kitchen. I walked in to find Louisa sitting in the corner by the stove with her bunny in her arms. Her eyes were huge with the most scared and hurt look I had ever seen on her face—”
He paused, and his voice became so quiet I had to strain to hear him.
“Her nightgown was covered in blood, and a little pool of it was on the floor underneath her when I picked her up. They had…”
He couldn’t finish. My hand went to my mouth, and every hair on my body stood on end. He didn’t have to complete his sentence—in fact, I didn’t want him to. It was too horrible. “Oh my God, Luke. I am so sorry.”
“I messed them up bad. I tried to kill them, and I would have if the guys across the hall hadn’t stopped me.”
“They deserved it,” I said, unable to even imagine the pain he must be dealing with.
“When my roommate got out of the hospital a month later, he convinced the boss I’d stolen from him. I was going to leave that day, take Louisa with me and run. I had enough money saved up for us to live on. I had just finished packing up her bags when they broke in, and instead of killing me, they took her. They told me I would get her back when I paid off my debt.”
“Which is why you kidnapped me—” I mumbled.
“I searched for Louisa, but my efforts were futile. I went crazy—drank to numb the guilt, fought to get out the anger, and then wished I were dead because of the pain. The weekly teaser phone call with her voice crying on the other end was the only thing that kept me going, but eventually those calls stopped.”
A wolf howled, followed by another, but it was Luke’s story that made me shudder. I reached for his hand when he got lost in thought.
“I saw news coverage in a bar one night,” he continued, “a protest at a Montreal drug manufacturing plant that had been organized by the Right Choice Group. I listened through my half-drunken state, and I realized the same thing those people claimed happened to their loved ones had happened to my mother, and if she were around, Louisa would be safe and our lives would have been normal. I made my way there to join in and ended up spending the night in jail with Regan. In the morning, he took me home. He sobered me up and gave me hope and purpose. I would be dead without him.”
I remembered watching that news clip in the hospital waiting room—the fire burning and members of the Right Choice Group getting arrested while Henry blatantly lied to the public. It was the day Anne died. “So, they’ve had Louisa for over a year?” I asked, and then I wished I hadn’t.
“Yes.”
“You know it’s not your fault; you did everything you could.”
He blinked and stared up at the tent roof.
“Everything will work out, Luke. Tomorrow, Henry will hand over the money, because that amount is absolutely nothing to him, and then you can pay off the ransom and get your sister back.”
He sighed heavily. He was past having any hope. I could see that. “We will get her back,” I said again.
“We?” he said questioningly, and then he turned to face me, his blue eyes wide.
“Yes, we. If there is anything I can do, I will. I promise.”
A smile came across his face, and he put his hand on my cheek. I wanted to grab him, pull him in tight, hold his head to my chest, and smother him with affection, but I couldn’t allow myself to go there. I was already in too deep. “Things will be better tomorrow. You’ll see.”
“You’re exhausted, Kaya. You really need to sleep,” he said, and then he pulled his hand away, “try and rest, we’ve got lots of walking tomorrow. We’ve gotta get you home
… right?”
Now I was the one to sigh. “Right.”
He turned off the lamp, and this time I was okay with the dark, unable to look at the hurt on his face without reaching for him. I said goodnight, and my stomach rolled and sent a splash of acid into my throat, which brought me to my next question, the one I finally had to ask myself. Was I pregnant with Oliver’s child?
Think about it… answer honestly…
Yes. Yes I was. There really was no doubt. I knew it. I had gone over the details, examined the facts, and it most certainly was true.
How did I go from hating Oliver so much to getting engaged to him and becoming pregnant? I cared about him, that was for sure—there was the friendship, the familiarity, and the physical attraction—but all those things didn’t come anywhere near the feelings I had for the man sleeping beside me. The man who I would give my life for. The man who I wanted more than anything…
“How far along are you?” he asked gently.
I didn’t want to answer. Saying it out loud would be a confirmation of the dreaded truth.
“Kaya, how far along?” he asked again. “Please tell me.”
“Fifteen weeks.”
He rolled me onto my back and hovered above me. My heart raced.
“May I?” he asked, and then, quite boldly and without waiting for a reply, he put his hand under the blanket and found his way to my stomach. I stopped him, trying to decide if I wanted him to feel it or not… and then I pulled his hand upward and slowly guided it down under the waistband of my pants. I gave him the opportunity to feel my bare skin or pull away if he wanted to. I heard him gulp as he moved toward my pelvis where he stretched his fingers out between my hip bones.
“Fifteen weeks…” he muttered to himself.
His breath brushed my cheek as he moved his fingers in a gentle circle around the edges of the tiny bump. The pure and genuine affection that emanated from him was something I had never felt so deeply from another human being in my entire life.
[Nightmusic 01.0] Serenade Page 21
