BELONGING: Hope, Truth And Malice (Beauty 0f Life Book 3)

by Laura Acton

  Lexa stopped Patch just before he opened Dan’s door. “What’s beauty?”

  Patch held up a small, very battered, and worn MP3 player with straggly earbuds hanging from it. The quizzical looks made Patch smile again before he said, “Brody put together several playlists of music that help Blondie remember the beauty of life. It always helps. Out of habit I always carry it with me fully charged. I’m ecstatic he asked for Beauty. Give him an hour or two and he’ll be ready to join us.”

  Disbelieving looks were shot at him.

  Blaze grinned broadly. “He’s not lying. Always helps. It’s a good sign when Blondie asks for it. You watch. Two hours, tops.” Blaze checked his watch. “It’s just after 1500 now, he’ll be in here by 1700. Who’s willing to bet me?”

  Grand Citadel Hotel – Main Suite – 3:10 p.m.

  Patch slipped into Blondie’s room and found Blondie had his eyes closed. Moving quietly towards the bed, Patch spoke very softly, “Hey, Blondie, look what I have.”

  Dan opened his eyes and looked towards Patch. “Beauty. You still carry Beauty. I’d hoped but …”

  “Yeah, a habit I’m glad I never gave up. Fully charged, too,” Patch said handing Beauty to him. “Need to check your vitals and give ya some meds. Then you can have the time you need. I’ll make sure no one comes in.”

  Dan nodded then slowly put the earbuds in. His arms were sore. He first tried with his left hand, but it was too swollen to manipulate the little earbuds into place. He was able to manage with his right hand. He turned Beauty on and selected a playlist.

  He closed his eyes and as the soft strains of classical music started, Dan could swear he heard Brody say, “Time to relax Danny, hear the music, let it soothe your soul and open your heart to the light within.”

  Patch worked quickly and was done in less than five minutes. Softly he said, “Say hi to Brody for me.” Patch watched a moment as a calm expression spread over Blondie’s face. Beauty would help—Brody would help. Patch quietly padded to the door, took one more look, then slipped out the door.

  Near Yellowknife, NWT – Safe House – 1:30 p.m. (3:30 Toronto)

  Rebecca Broderick sat at the kitchen table waiting for the water to boil as she absently flipped through an outdated ‘Guns and Ammo’ magazine. She was bored to tears here and frustrated beyond belief. Becca sighed and then got up to pour the water into the cups to make tea for her mother. Then she picked up both mugs and went out to the covered porch.

  Yvonne Broderick looked up from her place on the bench swing and smiled. “Ah, tea. Thanks, Becca,” Yvonne said as she reached for the offered mug.

  She could see that her daughter was brooding a bit—again. Yvonne couldn’t fault her for that. It had been a frustrating few months being cooped up in the safe houses. At least this one had beautiful surroundings and a lake they could walk to. They were freer here than they’d been in Vancouver. But none of that could really make up for the fact that they were essentially cut-off from everyone and everything that was a normal part of their lives.

  “Dear, how can I help?” Yvonne asked as she sipped her tea.

  Becca lowered her svelte body onto the railing of the porch and turned to look out at the pine trees as a cool breeze gently caressed her face and blew her long, straight golden hair from her shoulders. It was picturesque and tranquil here, but Becca was more of a city girl—she preferred the hustle and bustle.

  She turned to her mother. Concerned for her mom’s health, Becca didn’t want to stress her mom or add to her worries, so she smiled and answered, “I’m fine Mom. How are you feeling today? Up for a walk to the lake?”

  Yvonne gazed at her golden-hearted girl who had eyes so like William’s. “I’m up for it if you would like. I know this is tough on you. Your father’s doing all he can to resolve the situation.”

  Becca nodded. She was always in awe of her mom’s quiet, gentle strength and ability to accept the constraints of being the wife of such a high-profile military man. Her mother had much greater capacity in that regard than she did. Becca bucked at the constraints, but she wasn’t stupid and knew this was necessary. Jorge Pletcher was out to kill her and very nearly had.

  “I know Dad’s doing all he can. He always does. He will get Pletcher and then we’ll get to go home. I just hope it’s before September. I was looking forward to going to fashion week in New York with Isabelle, Alphonse, and Jacqueline.”

  Yvonne stood and gracefully walked over to Becca. She set her tea mug on the railing and then cupped her daughter’s face with both hands. Soft emerald eyes met sapphire blue eyes and Yvonne said, “We always have hope.”

  Then she kissed her daughter’s cheek and linked her arm with Becca’s. “Shall we walk, Sweetheart? I’d like to hear all about the latest designs you’ve been sketching,” Yvonne said using a tried and true method to distract her youngest child from the reality of their confines for a little while.

  Becca stood and a genuine smile lit her face as the two of them started down the stairs of the porch and towards the lake. As Becca enthusiastically launched into describing her latest designs, Mike, Drake, Jack, and Craig assumed their protective positions silently and unobtrusively as possible as they scanned for threats and guarded the ladies on their walk to the lake.

  Grand Citadel Hotel – Main Suite – 4:15 p.m.

  Bram looked up as the General approached him as he hung up after speaking with Kellie and his girls. He’d needed a dose of their love after today. He felt so blessed in his family.

  He had a great relationship with his own parents, especially his father. His parents had moved to Antwerp ten years ago when his dad took over the Belgium branch of the company he worked for. But Bram still spoke with his parents at least once a week. Video calls were the best—the girls loved to see their Opa and Oma and talked their ears off.

  Kellie also had loving and caring parents. Bram was glad they lived close by. Her mother and father were a great help with the girls when Kellie needed a break or they did a date night. The girls loved their Nana and Papa, too. His musing stopped when the General took a seat near him. He waited to see what he wanted.

  William was unsure how to proceed. The large man had a calmness to him that didn’t fit his size. His eyes were kind and a shade of blue-green, that reminded William of the Mediterranean Sea. “May I speak with you?”

  Bram nodded. “Sure.”

  Releasing a breath, William said, “Daniel asked you for help. Can you help me understand why? I’m asking because as you no doubt know, I’ve failed to connect with my son. I’ve tried many ways, but it always goes horribly wrong.”

  Giving it some thought, Bram answered, “I don’t really know what I can tell you. Every relationship is unique. Two people connect or they don’t, regardless of how many other people connect with each of them.”

  William nodded. “I know that. How did you connect with my son? I know from Walter that Daniel’s entry to your team was very rocky. He asked for a transfer to another team. How did you go about fixing things with Daniel? I want to connect with Daniel—I have hope … but I could screw it up again. Perhaps you have some advice?”

  Bram leaned back in the chair and considered his words. “I just treated him like I would like to be treated—with consideration, respect, and like he mattered. I took the time to listen. It was tough waiting for Dan to turn the corner and accept my friendship. I had to be patient and allow Dan to set the pace. On Christmas Eve, my patience came to fruition.”

  Listening carefully, William asked, “How so?”

  Smiling, Bram said, “He called me when he needed a friend. I answered without hesitation. That was a magical Christmas. My girls, especially Allie, fell in love with Dan while he stayed with us. Allie calls him Prince Charming.”

  Bram chuckled, leaned in close to the General, and whispered, “You can’t tell anyone on the team, but Dan plays tea party with my girls and he even let them dress him in a prince charming cape and a crown on his head. I’ve never seen any
thing as sweet as that. He’s so good with children—so caring and gentle. His eyes light up when he’s around them.”

  “Daniel was with you for Christmas? Why?” William asked as he recalled how sad Yvonne had been this past Christmas. It broke his heart to see her staring at the ornament on the tree. And more guilt heaped on his shoulders as he realized his part in making her sad—Daniel wasn’t in the field by choice all those Christmases—if only he’d done something different.

  Bram shared how Dan was hit by a distracted driver while on his way home from volunteering at the Mayfield Soup Kitchen. He shared how Dan’s only real plans were to visit Brody’s grave. Bram saw the hurt and guilt reflected in the General’s eyes.

  William’s heart was pulverized, but he said, “Brody Hunter was a good man. I was happy he was in Daniel’s life. He died way too young. I wish I could turn back the hands of time and change so many things.”

  “Sir, you have the key. Time. Just take your time with Dan. Don’t rush him. Go slow and have patience. Show him that he matters and that you care about him through words and actions. He needs to hear you tell him he is loved and wanted,” Bram suggested.

  Seeing the heavy cloak of guilt on the General, Bram added, “You also need to keep in mind that we’re human and even the best of us makes mistakes. No one is perfect. Give Dan time to see how you truly feel—he needs time to sort things out in his own head and to relearn everything he thought he knew about your relationship. Time is the key and letting him set the pace.”

  Nodding William said, “Thank you for the advice. I’m glad that you’re in Daniel’s life. Thank you for being there when he needed a friend.”

  Grand Citadel Hotel – Room 666 – 4:20 p.m.

  Phone up to his ear, Plouffe used a soft, cajoling voice, “We’re counting on you. It’s important that you speak to him alone.”

  A quiet voice that reflected deep sorrow asked, “Why alone? Why me? He doesn’t even know me.”

  “Sweetie, you need to know for your peace of mind. We all need to know the truth of how he died—no one will tell us. I’m sure he’ll speak to you. After all, he’s an honorable man and he wouldn’t deny your simple request.”

  Tammy sobbed lightly. “It hurts so much not knowing. I can’t imagine how badly he must feel. He saw Aaron die.”

  Plouffe grimaced speaking these lies, but kept his voice soft, “Yes, Sweetie, he must be hurting very badly too. They say he was in charge of Aaron at the time. I know how much it hurts when someone dies under your command. I’ve dealt with that several times. It’s not easy and speaking to you will help.”

  Wiping the tears from her eyes and laying her hand on her belly, the phone slipped a little in her shaking hand. Lifting it her ear, she said, “I don’t want to hurt him by asking him, but I need to know. Aaron’s son needs to know how brave his father was. I’m afraid if I don’t ask we’ll never know the truth.”

  Nigel took a drink of his rum and coke, then responded, “I agree completely. You’re our best hope of finding out the real truth. You won’t hurt him. Tell him what you just told me. It’s for Aaron’s son.”

  All Nigel heard was light sobbing. He smirked as his voice falsely exuded concern, “There, there, Sweetie, don’t cry—it’s not good for the baby. You can do this. Everyone will be so proud of you for finding out the truth. My brother David especially—he needs to know what happened to his son. He’s a wreck and won’t be able to do it. And Aaron’s mother, the poor dear is just so distraught. You can do this. Just smile sweetly at him.”

  Tammy blew her nose and then in a stronger voice she answered, “I can do this. I will ask him.”

  “That’s a girl. Now remember, you need to speak to him alone. I know him and he’s uncomfortable in crowds. You can help him by getting him away from the crowd to speak with him. He’ll appreciate that.”

  “Okay, I can do that. I don’t want him uncomfortable.”

  Grinning, Nigel said, “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow at the house. You can ride to the funeral with me if you want, Sweetie.”

  “That’s so nice of you to offer, but Aaron’s father asked me to ride with them. You’ve been so good to me these past few days. I can see why Aaron looked up to you. I think Aaron would’ve liked it if I make you our son’s godfather. Goodnight.”

  Nigel hung up the phone without acknowledging Tammy’s comment about godfather—there was no way in hell David would allow that to happen. David hated him as much as Nigel hated his brother. His brother was a sorry, weak piece of crap and the world would be better off without weaklings like David.

  But then he laughed. Tammy was so easy to manipulate. She was such a stupid twit that all it took was the right words, even if they were pure lies. He snorted thinking, Broderick an honorable man—my ass.

  Aaron was the only one in the family worth a damn. Broderick should’ve been the one to die in that ravine. His toy soldier failed to fall again. He laughed out loud again as he thought, tomorrow would change that once and for all.

  Plouffe slammed back the remainder of his rum and coke as his phone rang. He answered it, “Yeah?”

  An irritated voice ground out, “I’m here. Is everything set up?”

  Plouffe answered, “Yes, I’ve made the arrangements. You need to be in place before the funeral starts.”

  “Does that blubbering fiancée know what’s going to happen?”

  “No, she has no clue. Just a means to an end,” Plouffe laughed.

  Murphy ground out, “And the promotion is a for sure thing?”

  Nigel bristled at Murphy’s tone but smoothly stated, “Yes, but this time you better not fail. He wasn’t supposed to make it out alive—you failed me.”

  “He wouldn’t have, but his unit went rogue. I had no control over that,” Murphy groused.

  “I don’t care if his unit went rogue to get him back. You failed me multiple times. I had a hell of a time covering up all your stupid shit. The last time you were supposed to put a bullet in him and leave him in the desert—but you screwed that one up too.”

  Murphy clenched his jaw. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t pop Broderick that day. Damned Hunter showed up out of nowhere and blocked his shot. He couldn’t take it and make it look like a friendly fire accident with Hunter in the way. Murphy pushed those thoughts away and asked, “What if she’s in the way of my shot tomorrow?”

  “Shoot through her if necessary. I really don’t care—she’s expendable. You do what’s necessary this time. I want him dead tomorrow if he shows.” Plouffe hung up somewhat agitated.

  He rolled thoughts around in his brain. That idiot never followed through as expected—he’d better make a backup plan. His toy soldier would die tomorrow if he was stupid enough to show up at the funeral. He’d never see it coming.

  His backup plan popped into his head—yes, that would work. Plouffe fixed himself another rum and coke, sat down, took a long drink, and began to plan the General’s demise. It would have to be after the rest of the Broderick family died. He’d enjoy watching the pain his nemesis would feel.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  July 18

  Grand Citadel Hotel – Main Suite - 4:50 p.m.

  Dan’s bedroom door opened and he stood in the entry way on slightly shaky legs. He leaned on the door jamb for support while his right hand clung to the rolling IV pole. With a casual smile displayed on his tired face, Dan said nonchalantly, “Hey, got anything to eat out here? I’m starving.”

  A stunned Alpha Team and the General sat open mouthed at the visage of Dan standing in the doorway asking for something to eat.

  Blaze, Winds, and Patch simply smiled with ‘told ya so’ expressions as they thought, Yep, just under two. Blondie will survive. They knew he wasn’t out of the woods completely, Blondie would still need time to come to terms with what he’d learned. But for now, he’d processed enough to operate—Blondie was damned resilient.

  Winds was closest and trotted over to offer support as he walked Blondie to th
e nearest chair and helped him sit. “Nice to see ya, buddy. Been a rough one, huh? How ya doing?”

  Dan took a moment to look at everyone in the room before he answered. Blaze, Winds, and Patch—they were his chosen brothers, they had battled with him and fought for him when he couldn’t fight for himself. They always kept him strong … helped him to survive. He would willingly give his own life to protect each and every one of them. They were still here for him … even after Brody … he belonged … their bond of brotherhood hadn’t been broken.

  His gaze moved to Bram, Nick, Jon, Loki, and Ray. Their surprised yet concerned expressions felt so good. They were his chosen family now—dad, uncle, and brothers. They gave him something he desperately needed. They were a connection to a place he could begin to live again … not just survive … he belonged with them, too.

  Dan’s eyes caught and held Lexa’s beautiful hazel eyes as he watched the golden flecks dance. Sexy Lexie’s eyes drew him in like no one had—he felt something so right with her. Her eyes were the window to her soul. Could she be his salvation … his beauty of life … could she be the one?

  Those questions had to go to the end of a very long line of things he had to think about—his past wasn’t what he thought it was.

  Turning his head, Dan saw the General. Chaotic emotions flooded in. It was still too mixed, the old didn’t apply anymore. Did his father really want him and love him? Did he really belong with his natural family?

  Dan turned his gaze to Winds because he wasn’t ready yet—it was too raw—it hurt too much right now. He needed time.

  Taking a shallow, steadying breath, Dan replied, “I’m fine now, but I’ll be okay soon.” He still needed time to deal with it all, but for the moment, he was sufficiently sorted and he really needed to be surrounded by the warmth and security of his chosen family.

  “What do you mean by that?” Jon asked truly confused by his statement. Fine and okay were the same. Weren’t they?

  Dan didn’t want to answer that question, so he searched for a way to deflect. “So what’s a guy gotta do for food?” he said using his lop-sided grin.