Caroline had raised her children too well. She’d intended to infuse them with a sense of the greater good, the urge to leave the world a better place. The importance of privilege and power and wealth and the obligation to do something positive with it when others had none. If Marguerite felt this way, what would Sophie do? Would she insist on fighting as well? Would both of her children tumble down the rabbit hole into the unknown, armed with only their ideals? She jumped to her feet.
“You want to see what they do to people who resist them? Do you?” She pulled up her shirt to reveal the scar on her stomach. “You see this?” Marguerite turned away. Nope. Couldn’t have that. Caroline yanked her arm. “No. You’re going to get a heavy dose of truth. You’ve already seen these,” she said, pulling up her sleeves. She spun around and lifted the back of her shirt. “How about these?” She was yelling now, maybe louder than she ever had before. “They don’t play nice. They torture. They kill. They’ll do more than that if they get the chance.”
Marguerite stood up. “I’m willing to take that chance,” she said, with a little too much bravado.
“I’m not!” Caroline screamed. “If they capture you they’ll do far worse than just kill you. They beat the shit out of me repeatedly. They killed my friends. They scrambled my mind. Do you see who I am now? Do you remember what I used to be? I suffered for fourteen days at the hands of the most evil, sadistic people imaginable and damn it, I am not going to let it happen to you.” She poked Marguerite in the chest. “I’m not going to let you run into the lion’s den, no matter how gutsy you are.” Caroline turned away, trembling. “I’m not.”
Marguerite didn’t speak for a long time, and when she finally did her voice was quiet. “Then why do you have to do it?”
Anger could dissipate into remorse so swiftly, and nothing spurred her to shame more than when she caused someone else pain. Caroline spun around and saw that her eldest daughter was crying. “I just do, sweetheart. This is something Jack and I have to finish. But I’m not going to drag you into it.” She let out a small sob. “I don’t care if it sounds selfish, it would destroy me if I lost you forever. I just can’t let you do it.”
“You’re going to leave soon, aren’t you?”
She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Not when she was focusing on the priceless moments she was living now. “I don’t know.”
“You are. You said yourself you had to see it through to the end. That means fighting. Leaving us. Plotting your revolutionary map.”
I want to take you with me. But… “I want you to be safe.”
“We’re safer with you. If it all goes to hell, shouldn’t we be together?”
Damn her hyperintelligent firstborn and her goddamn logic. “I don’t know what to do,” Caroline said.
“Of course you do.” Marguerite took her hand. “You just don’t want to admit it.”
“Regardless, you’re not joining the army or the Canadian military or whatever. I can put my foot down about that.”
“Once March rolls around I can do what I want.”
Her birthday was mere weeks away. She was right. That was the exasperating part. “I know,” Caroline said. “I just really, really don’t want you to.”
“I don’t want you to go either,” said Marguerite softly. “What happens if you don’t come back? If Jack doesn’t come back?”
She’d disrupted their lives. Mo. Feef. Chrissy. They may not have been happy, they may not have been whole, they may not have been emotionally healthy, but they had been safe. Protected. Loved. And Caroline had blown it all to hell. She wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked back and forth. “We should have never come here.”
Marguerite scowled at her. “And let us believe you were still dead? That’s terrible, mom. Really, really awful. Did you ever think about what it’s been like for us? We barely made it here. Tom and Jess died. Aunt Chrissy almost fell apart from it all. And we waited, and waited, and waited, and you never came. We held out hope you were still alive, but the longer we waited the more we knew you were gone.”
An apology seemed meaningless but she tried anyway. “I’m sorry.”
“Do you know what happened when we saw those files? Sophie cried nonstop for days. Chrissy locked herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. And all I could do was feel angry at you for getting yourself killed when you and Jack should have just been with us.”
“I know I broke my promise. I know what I did was selfish. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Caroline covered her face and began to cry.
Marguerite sat down on the bed and embraced her mother. “Don’t, mom. Stop.”
“Please don’t hate me, Mo. I didn’t want to leave you. Sending you away with Aunt Chrissy and Uncle Tom was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
Marguerite tightened her grip. “I know.”
She deserved her daughter’s anger. She’d gotten off easy so far. “I thought about you and your sister the entire time I was in that horrible place. And every day since. Please don’t make me go through the pain of losing you again. I couldn’t bear it.”
“I want to be with you,” Marguerite said quietly. “I need you. I need my mother.”
Caroline straightened up. “Do you know how wonderful it’s been being with you and Feef and Jack, feeling like a family again?”
Marguerite grabbed a tissue, wiping away her mother’s tears. “I know.”
She took a deep breath. “I can’t stop you from doing anything once you turn eighteen. I’m not entirely sure I could stop you anyway. We have some pretty loose requirements when it comes to our little alliance. I just want you to remember that if you join us, we’ll be more worried about you than anything else.”
“Aren’t you going to worry anyway?”
A valid point. “Probably.”
“Then why not be together?”
She definitely wasn’t going to win this argument. “I want you to be safe and I’m not sure the best way to do it.”
“You don’t think Jack feels the same way about you?”
“I’m sure he does, but he’s learned I’m too stubborn to reason with.”
“Perhaps it’s genetic,” Marguerite said.
“Perhaps.” Caroline wanted another hug. Maybe two. Or twenty. She leaned into Marguerite’s arms and they held each other for a long time. “Do you know how much I love you, my little Mo Mo?”
“I have a vague idea.” Marguerite gave her another hard hug. “Mom, part of me does understand why you have to do this. It’s the same part that wants to fight.”
“I know. It’s just…complicated, darling. Most difficult decisions are.”
“I meant what I said in that interview. I really am proud of you and what you’ve done. It’s an honor to be your daughter.”
“Did they edit that last line out? I don’t remember it being in there.”
“I kept that one to myself.”
Caroline kissed her cheek. “You shouldn’t have.”
“Well, now you know.”
“Have you talked to Feef about any of this?”
“Oh, that’s completely your job.”
She should have known. “Fine.” Caroline stretched before standing up. “Guess that’s my next stop, huh?”
“Yeah.” Marguerite took her hand. “But I’ll go with.”
*****
Caroline was with Marguerite. Sophie decided on some quiet time, retreating to her bedroom to read a book. Christine fled to her own room after downing a couple of shots of Wild Turkey with Jack. Jones, Gig, and Crunch returned to their hotel. Jack was in the living room alone. Damn it. He needed to talk to Christine. He’d needed to since they first arrived. And he had no excuse for further delay.
“Hey, Christine.” He tapped softly on her bedroom door. “You okay?”
Jack had all but determined she’d decided to sack out for a while when he heard her tell him to come in.
Christine was sitting on the bed. She’d been crying. “You must think I’m
a patsy,” she said. “Getting worked up when I’m not the victim.”
He wasn’t accustomed to comforting women other than his wife, nor was he particularly good at it. Maybe logic would help. “You were an aggressor. That had to throw you off. Have you ever done anything like that before?”
“No.” She tried to smooth out her hair with trembling hands. “I never expected I’d react to anyone that way.”
The three of them had behaved poorly, but such conduct was old hat to Jack and Caroline. Christine was unaccustomed to the rough and tumble reality of the revolution. “Time and stress change things,” he said. Jack took both of her hands in his and the shaking stopped. “You’re not a patsy. Giant bitch maybe, but no patsy.”
“Points for honesty, McIntyre.” She lifted her right hand up to wipe her eyes, but Jack noticed she was perfectly content keeping her left hand enclosed in his.
“You’ve done really well today,” he said. “The past few days, actually.”
She stayed silent.
“Especially under the circumstances.”
She stared at him.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Jack,” she whispered. “It’s so hard looking at those scars – they’re…” She covered her eyes. “She’s so strong. I don’t know how she does it.”
“Being around the three of you helps.”
“How much do the girls know?”
Caroline had talked to her but he wasn’t sure how much she’d revealed. “Mo saw them while they were baking cookies. I’m not sure if Sophie knows yet,” he said. “It’s hard the first few times you see them. It’s…” How could he even put it into words?
“She’s holding something back,” Christine said.
Did he really want to have this conversation? “How much do you know?”
“She told me a little. And I read some of the records,” she admitted. “Maggie read them all.”
Shit. He wasn’t going to touch that one. His wife could do that later. “But you read Caroline’s.”
“Of course. Hers, Ellen’s, Bob’s, Jen’s, Kathleen’s…people I knew. People I cared about.”
He gritted his teeth. “Now you know how the Santos Administration defines ‘enhanced interrogation.’”
“But-”
“Christine, look. You’ve had a rough few days. Maybe you should take it down a notch. There’s plenty of time for you to get all the answers you need.”
“I know. I just-”
She needed reassurance. Badly. “You should have seen her face when we saw that newspaper article. It was the happiest I’d seen her in years. She cried for hours after you left that night. I think she believed she was never going to see you again. Not because you wouldn’t make it, but because she wouldn’t. She didn’t even consider there was a chance you might not get here.”
“We almost didn’t.”
“From what I understand, she was provided with what she thought was proof you all died in the effort.”
“She told me,” Christine said quietly.
Damn. So if Caroline had shared details, she’d only given the lowlights. “There was no record of you crossing the border under assumed names. We had nothing to disprove the information she’d been given.”
“I wasn’t sure if it was safe to use the trust, no matter what you’d told me. The Canadian government was more than willing to slip us some cash on the side and protect our identities,” Christine said. “I didn’t want to call attention to us when we first arrived. It never occurred to me that utilizing that account would be a very easy way to let you know we were okay.”
“You don’t owe me any explanations,” said Jack.
“Maybe I should have done more.”
What did it mean when everyone felt that way? When every battle seemed never-ending, even if you gave it every drop of blood and sweat you had? At some point a person had to cease taking on burdens. “Stop second guessing yourself.”
Christine laughed bitterly. “Easier said than done. There’s a reason why your wife and I are such good friends. We have a lot of the same annoying characteristics.”
“Maybe that’s why I actually like you a little.”
They sat silently for a few minutes, Jack’s arm wrapped around Christine’s shoulders. “She came apart while she was at that federal holding facility,” he said. “I’m trying to put her back together.”
“That’s very noble of you, Jack.” Christine smiled for a moment but it quickly faded. “She spent two weeks there. Fourteen days.”
“It’s a long time.”
“She seems-” Christine stopped, trying to find the right words. “Different sometimes. Upsettingly so. Her body language, her tone of voice, her demeanor, all the things I’d never really thought about before, that I’d just taken for granted as who she is. It’s still her, it’s just….more austere.”
Loving someone to their core meant you could easily spot changes. A blessing and a curse, especially after time apart. “She’s hardened, but every once in a while you see the real Caroline come out. She’s been almost her old self while we’ve been with you. It’s wonderful.”
Christine shuddered. “I hate to think about what made her the way she is now.”
That’s why I try not to do it. “The reality is pretty bad. You need to steel yourself if she decides to open up more than she already has.”
“She never told them anything, did she?”
“No,” Jack said quietly. “She never did.”
Christine shook her head. “That woman. I don’t even have the words.”
“Most of the time, neither do I.”
“I have to say, I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified by the two of you. You’ve certainly turned the corner.”
“We’re hoping to inspire a blockbuster movie someday. Straight to DVD, of course.”
“You wouldn’t want to set your standards too high.”
“No, of course not. It would be self-financed, you see.”
“There are more Swiss bank accounts the public never knew about?”
“I reveal nothing.”
Christine patted his leg. “You seem to be in relatively good spirits, all things considered.”
“It wasn’t always that way. We were…separated after you left in February. And that’s when, well, you know. She and her crew found their way to where we were hiding about eight months ago.”
“Wow.”
“Did she tell you any of this?”
“We hadn’t gotten that far, aside from some minor details. She purposely left out what happened before she was captured. How were you separated?”
He and Christine were miles closer than they used to be, and if he revealed the truth they’d be further apart than ever. “If I tell you what happened, you’re going to hate me.”
“Well, I’m not exactly your biggest fan, so maybe that’s not an issue.”
At least she could joke about it. “Point taken. I’m glad the rest of your family disagreed with your judgment.” Shit. Talk about being insensitive as hell. He saw the pain in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Christine. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No,” she said brusquely. “It’s fine. What happened after we left?”
The room was getting chilly. Jack let out a hard breath. “Things escalated quickly. We’d heard rumors of a rebel movement growing out west. You and the kids were gone. Jen and Kathleen were gone. And then, one night…they came.”
“Who?” Christine asked.
She had to damn well know, but anyway. “Federal troops. The Santos Administration had done a good job of playing the media game. All the major outlets were either bought off or cowed into toeing the party line. If they took us down there was a chance Americans would figure out what they were doing. Their smokescreen would fade. So they had to time it right. Of course,” he said wryly, “we all know how well that theory of mine worked out.”
“You could afford to be a bit more cynical,” Christine said. “Certain
pockets of our party have fought against intellectualism and so-called academic elitism for years, and it’s paid off in spades.”
A fair if depressing analysis. Neither he nor Christine were lacking in pessimism. “Near the beginning of February, they took out our security and came charging into the mansion, guns drawn. We somehow made it to the Lincoln, but…” He winced at the memory. “I escaped without a scratch. Caroline had been shot in the leg. Just a graze, but something that would need attention.”
Christine patted his hand. “You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”
Was his discomfort that obvious? “No, it’s okay. It’s actually kind of therapeutic.”
She rubbed the back of her neck. “Caroline sure gets injured a lot. That woman.”
“We didn’t make it far in the car,” he continued. “Given the nature of her injury I wanted us to get to Canada as soon as possible. They shot out the tires on some compact car we swapped for the Lincoln as we neared western Pennsylvania, and we slid off the road into a tree. I don’t know how either one of us wasn’t killed; about twenty bullets had to have gone through that piece of shit. Caroline’s airbag didn’t deploy, and she was driving so she slammed into the steering wheel. I was lucky; I maybe had a couple of cracked ribs and a twisted ankle. We set off on foot in the Allegheny National Forest. By then Caroline was in really bad shape.”
“And medical care wasn’t an option,” Christine muttered.
“It wasn’t. Not that it mattered; I couldn’t tell you how we’d have gotten to a hospital. Trudging in the woods in the middle of winter? A man who had never owned a pair of hiking boots and a woman nursing God knows how many injuries? We had no business being where we were. And then-” The memories overwhelmed him, and he clenched his fist.
She handed him a tissue. “What happened, Jack?”
Shit happened. Bad, bad shit. “We’d maybe gotten a mile or two when Caroline collapsed. I had to prop her up against a tree to keep her from keeling over.” He rubbed his eyes. “She thought she was dying,” he said softly. “I saw this terrible, awful fear in her eyes. I tried to keep her talking but it was so cold and she kept nodding off. I knew if she passed out completely that she might – that there was a good chance she wouldn’t wake up.”
Triumph (The Bellator Saga Book 6) Page 18
