The air stood still. She heard Steven’s next breath catch at the back of his throat. Well, she’d done it now. He’d show her no mercy.
Just breathe, she reminded herself.
His silence was almost as bad as any of his beatings. He closed his lids and his eyes bounced around in their sockets. Then, flew open and locked her in a deadly gaze.
She forced herself not to jump.
“Do you think your impudence is smart considering your predicament?”
“Might be the smartest thing I’ve ever done.” With every barbed word, she felt her confidence grow. “How could you lie about our marriage, Steven?” She managed to get the words out, but her tone wavered. And he smiled as he sensed her fear. Damn. Why couldn’t she control her emotions?
“I’m going to let your little slip slide. After all, you’ve been through a lot, Myka. It’s been a long time. And this unfortunate separation has changed me too.”
At his attempt to be civil, Makayla scoffed. The only good change he’d ever make would be dying a slow and painful death. Then she might forgive him.
“Let my son go and I’ll do whatever you want.”
***
Steven’s eyes drifted to the boy she tried to hide behind her. Instead of a frightened five- year-old, he found a brave solider standing with his arms crossed against his small chest, his bright eyes drilling back at him. Light colored eyes like this were not familiar to Steven’s family. He’d heard of them. Of how they brought luck and fortune to others. He certainly could use a bit of good luck. “Now what do we have here, Makayla? Are you sure he belongs to you?”
He moved forward, and with one hand shoved her aside with enough force to knock her off her feet. She stumbled backward and hit the ground hard.
“No! Leave him alone.” Her plea met more resistance as he motioned Ricky to restrain her.
The boy never moved. He stood straighter. “Leave my mommy alone.” Head held high, he pursed his lips in anger.
“Now this is something I can work with. Look, Ricky. The boy has more courage than most of you goons. And he doesn’t have a gun.” Deep throaty laughter echoed in the air as Steven crouched in front of Nicholas.
“Young man, I like you. I’d like to make a deal. Whatcha think about that?” Steven restrained from touching the boy. He spoke softly, but sternly, trying to gain his trust.
“Deal? Like on ‘Let’s make a Deal’?”
Another chuckle escaped Steven and he felt his edge slipping. He hated kids, always had. But this little one, with his brave boldness and lack of fear, screamed potential. His son should have had these character traits. Things would have been different.
“Sure. Like that. Only it will make your mom real happy.”
“No. Nicholas don’t—” Makayla tried to protest and let her son know Steven was a bad man. But Ricky’s hot sweaty palm flew over her mouth before she could get the rest of her warning out.
“Mommy must really love you, young man.” Steven turned to look up at her, a cruel glint in his eyes.
“Yes, she does,” Nicholas said. “And I love her too.”
“Wonderful. Let’s make Mommy a deal. Okay?”
Nicholas appeared to like this game. Deals and making Mommy happy were usually right up there with ice cream and toys for most kids.
“See that big black car through the trees over there?” Nicholas followed Steven’s finger and his smile faded as he focused on the vehicle sitting beyond the fence.
“Yes. That’s the one that mean girl tricked me with. She said there was a big bag of candy in the backseat. But there wasn’t no candy, mister.”
“Really? Ricky, can you believe that? Shame on her.”
Ricky grinned, tightening his grip around Makayla as she struggled harder to free herself. Steven knew she was trying to figure out what he was up to and he loved seeing the fear play across her smooth facial features.
“Well, did you like the ride? Did she let you play with all the fun buttons?” Steven’s patience was testing him. He needed to move this along, get out of there before the Feds showed up. He needed the kid to come willingly. They couldn’t afford to lose him again.
“I don’t want to play with buttons. I want to go home, mister.”
Steven’s well thought out plans took a drastic detour the moment he saw the boy’s backbone. The little guy wanted him to think otherwise, but the word buttons sparked the interest Steven was hoping for. Nicholas bit his bottom lip, looking from the car to his mom.
“How about we give Mommy a ride home? You can show her all the buttons.”
It took all the strength Ricky had to hold Makayla still as Nicholas nodded his answer. Steven was impressed. Her newfound courage aroused the hell out of him. He stepped between her and Nicholas so the boy couldn’t see her face.
“Wonderful. She used to take rides with me all the time. Loved them if I remember correctly.” Oh, what fun they’d had. He’d loved embarrassing her, degrading her. His loins burned at the memories of her soft flesh beneath his hands, the sound of the leather seats sticking to her skin as he satisfied his needs.
“So we have a deal. A ride in the car for your mommy and a big bag of candy for you.” Steven stretched out his hand to shake on it. And Nicholas grinned.
With only a slight hesitation, the boy placed a tiny hand in Steven’s. The feel of his chubby fingers closing over his own stirred a new desire deep down in Steven’s gut. One he’d never experienced before. Not even with his only son. What the hell?
What was it about this young boy that made his insides feel unbelievably content? Had he finally found what he’d been unconsciously searching for all his life? A son he could mold and shape into his own likeness? One fear had not damaged? One not cursed with the Prichard last name or blood running through his veins?
Nicholas reminded him of all he wanted, but could never have. No fear. Unconditional love. Inner strength.
Steven turned to face his lost love. Her eyes were wide with fear.
“Makayla, you’ve given me the perfect gift.”
Chapter Eighteen
Steven’s words burned her ears as well as her heart. The perfect gift? What in Heaven’s name did he mean by that?
She broke Ricky’s hold on her mouth for a brief second. “No, stop!”
Steven winked at her and placed a hand on Nicholas’ shoulder. “It’s okay. Mommy’s just afraid you might break one of the buttons. But we’ll be careful. Right?”
Nicholas looked confused, but nodded yes.
Makayla tried to break free, to scream out again and tell Nicholas to run before he stepped into the car, but Ricky turned her around, his free hand striking her face. The pain spiked all the way to her toes, her lungs aching for air as she sagged against his hot sweaty body unable to find the strength to stand on her own anymore.
Nicholas turned his head at the sounds. “Wait. I think that man hit my mommy.”
“Ricky? No. He wouldn’t. I promise. That’s not nice. She must just be tired. Ricky will help her to the car.” Steven grinned down at Nicholas and turned him to face the opposite direction as Ricky started dragging her stiff body to the car. “Let’s get going, little man.”
“Hitting’s not nice,” Nicholas said shaking his head.
“No it isn’t,” Steven repeated, all serious and parent like.
Makayla thought she’d be sick. What was running through her son’s head? He knew better than to go with strangers. Couldn’t her son tell she was distressed, being taken against her will? Didn’t he care?
Of course he cared. She scolded herself for thinking otherwise. But his actions didn’t make any sense.
Once Nicholas’ door closed behind him, Ricky spun her around again, her front side squashed against the limo’s trunk as he pulled her hands behind her back and tied them together with a thick-corded rope. Then he pushed and shoved and pulled till they reached the passenger side where he eased her battered body through the open door.
“
Watch your head, Ms. Prichard.” With a rough push, he forced her head down.
“Don’t ever call me that again.” She cringed at the sound of that name and tried to block him from closing the door with her feet.
Ricky grunted, striking her again before lifting both her legs inside and slamming the door.
Eyes squeezed shut to offset the pain, she waited for the oversized goon to walk to the front of the car before turning to look at Nicholas. Her entire right side felt on fire and sporadic stars were starting to dance around in her head, but she couldn’t give in. She had to try and warn her son again before it was too late.
The dark privacy glass prevented her from getting his attention. He wasn’t frightened. She could tell by his body language. His feet dangled playfully off the seat as he gazed out his window, an excited grin spreading over his tiny lips as he pushed button after button.
Did he think this was some kind of game? Makayla closed her eyes and prayed for his safety. She didn’t pray for herself. After all the horror those little girls suffered because she was too afraid to contact the police, she deserved everything Steven had in store for her. But her son was a different story.
And Ryan.
Tears flooded her eyes. What had he done to deserve any of this? He’d been doing his job. Protecting her and a boy he had no ties to. Now the stakes for him were too much for any loving father to take.
That’s why she had to do everything in her power to keep Nicholas safe. He was the only family Ryan had.
Stay calm, Makayla thought. It’s not over yet. The ropes Ricky bound around her wrists were tight and every attempt she made to free her hands cut painful welts into her skin. Watching the road signs, she did the only thing possible to help her son. Pinpoint their exact location.
The minute they stopped, the minute she had any chance, she’d find a way to contact Ryan and relay the information. The attempt wasn’t much. But the effort kept the hysteria from completely taking over.
The beautiful countryside flashed by. The rolling hills, ancient oaks covered with Spanish moss, and the horse farms. One by one, she checked them off in her head as her fear rose up before her like an angry rattlesnake on the verge of a strike.
Every part of her being told her exactly where they were headed. Panic whipped within her chest, her blood running cold. She couldn’t bear the thought of going back to Steven’s estate. To that life. To that horror.
Interstate 10, the road they’d been traveling down for the past hour lead to the very place she’d escaped over ten years ago—her worst nightmare. Chills raced down to her toes. She couldn’t go back. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
Steven wasn’t stupid. He was organized to the point of insanity. A meticulous plan was at work here and the idea scared her to death. Not only did they have his army of goons to deal with but also those in positions of power. He had a way of getting local authorities to turn their backs on his endeavors. How people sworn to serve and protect could be so callous was beyond her understanding.
This was a lesson she’d learned the hard way. Ten years ago, only a few months passed before she realized her new life was to be anything but the fairy tale she hoped for. Sitting at the police station ready to file a complaint as well as a restraining order, she’d locked eyes with a familiar man standing in the doorway of a big office. He’d visited Steven’s estate often. Came and went through the back entrance. The man had stood in the police station, frowning, shoulders stiff, staring her down. It was at that moment she discovered his true identity. He wore a gun on his hip and his badge read Chief of Police.
This fact didn’t make what she’d done any less wrong, but it was the main reason she’d kept quiet about Steven’s transgressions and never went to the police. She couldn’t risk running into or divulging information to someone on Steven’s large payroll. Michael’s precious life had been on the line.
At that moment, Makayla realized she’d never have trusted Ryan if he’d ever revealed his secret. That tiny voice in the back of her head would have constantly nagged her, warned her, made her question his every move.
But there were no doubts now. Ryan was trustworthy. She owed him so much already.
Please let him find us in time.
She needed the chance to thank him in person. To tell him she was sorry.
To tell him she loved him.
***
Steven studied the boy as he sat quietly, his left arm resting on the door. Tiny fingers pushed and poked at the buttons, bright blue eyes sparking with delight each time his efforts revealed a new function. The radio appeared his favorite. He kept going back to switch the channel each time a song ended and Steven laughed to himself. He too liked music. Not that his father ever allowed it in his home. But secretly he loved the beat, loved the powerful feelings music stirred up inside.
The first thing he planned to do when they got back was give the boy a new name. Nicholas didn’t suit his character at all. He looked more like a Damien, or Gavin. Oh, this was going to be so rewarding.
Turning his attention to the front seat where Makayla sat, he wondered how she managed to raise such a strong boy. Only once had his biological son, Michael, stood up for his mother. One broken arm and the little coward put his tail between his legs and never interfered again. That’s what Steven disliked the most about his son. Michael reminded him way too much of the scared little boy he’d been. And that was totally unacceptable.
Steven fought off the memories of watching his father beating his own mother. As a child, he’d hid. Said nothing. His biological son inherited his weakness. The fear his father instilled in him all those years ago. A fear he refused to acknowledge, and still fought to keep locked up tight every day.
Helplessness. Vulnerability. The two were now buried so deep within, he didn’t feel at all. He could never risk letting those emotions take over again.
His mother hadn’t been as strong willed as Makayla. She hadn’t rebelled, didn’t deserve the constant beatings. And yet, she’d stuck by his father’s side to the end.
Steven cringed. That was a lie. His mother hadn’t had a choice to stay or go. She’d only managed to outlive his father.
He shook his head. Stop. Enough of this nonsense. The truth would only make him soft and pathetic.
Eyes glued on Makayla, he realized she’d grown even stronger, more daring. He saw it in every move she made. Deep down, he liked that. Even now in the face of danger, she sat straighter, alert and in control as she studied the scenery.
Steven knew she was tracking their progress, making a mental note of everything. Given the opportunity, she’d betray him again. The lining of his stomach burned as the acid churned at the thought. Why couldn’t she just behave?
He still had power over her, though. Each and every time she turned to make certain Nicholas was okay, Steven smiled. As long as he had the boy, she’d do exactly what he wanted. There was no doubt in his mind. Keeping Makayla around a bit longer would be the icing on his cake.
A two for one.
A woman to warm his bed and a son to warm his heart. Strange how he suddenly believed that possible. This new twist gave him great pleasure. His luck had already turned around.
He tried to contain the excitement swirling in his chest. Screaming a victory chant might hinder his chances of winning the boy over. And he planned to make this new challenge his last hurrah, his final contribution to society. When he finished, the boy would be so much more than he’d ever been, more than his poor pathetic father could ever have hoped to be.
Chapter Nineteen
Nicholas’ tiny voice broke the silence.
“Where we going?” The boy was so quiet Steven almost forgot he was in the back seat with him. He’d been so absorbed in watching his beautiful Makayla. She was here. Finally within his reach again and he smiled each time she squirmed, trying to free herself.
“A giant castle,” Steven replied. Twisting at the waist, he gave the boy his full attention. Then chuckled under
his breath as Makayla whimpered and turned to stare back out the side window. Good. He wanted her rattled.
“Have you ever seen a castle, Nicholas?” Not that his business partner really lived in a castle. But it did resemble one with the tall turrets, balconies and twenty-foot stone security wall surrounding the estate.
“No,” Nicholas said, looking back out the window. After a few seconds, he turned back to Steven. “How long’s it take to get there? You said we were going home.”
Steven couldn’t help himself. He reached over and ruffled the boy’s dark blond hair. So castles weren’t on the boys top ten list. He’d make note of that. “Oh, it’s about six more hours. I need to take care of a little business first. Then I’ll take you home.”
“That’s long.” Nicholas’ face turned into a pout. He huffed under his breath, crossed his tiny arms over his chest and worked his mouth from side to side. “I don’t feel so good,” he said, squeezing his stomach tight with his arms.
Alarms sounded. Lots of them. “You feel sick?” A horrifying picture flew through Steven’s mind. If this boy started up chucking in the limo, he too would be feeling sick. And that just wouldn’t do.
“You-you hold it, you hear me?” Steven called Ricky on the intercom. “How far to the next town?”
“About five minutes, sir.”
“Make it two.”
“Sir, you want me to speed?”
“I’d have you fly if you could. Just get there, fast.”
Steven scooted to the far side of the seat by the door. “Son, wait a few more minutes. We’ll stop. Get you some water.”
“I think I can.” Nicholas hunched over further with a moan, and Steven felt the bile rising in his stomach.
“Good. Good boy. You do that.” Steve swallowed hard. He stared at the side of Makayla’s shadowed profile. He might have to untie her so she could tend to the boy. No way was he or Ricky getting within five feet of an erupting child. He needed Ricky to be in tiptop shape if he intended him to drive through the night. The smell alone would do Steven in. The last time he got sick it was a week of hell locked in the bathroom.
Betrayals of the Heart Page 14
