Bloodlines

by Dinah McCall

  Trey sighed. “Aw, Livvie…we were kids. I loved you so damn much, but if we’d tried to make a go of it back then, it wouldn’t have worked, and we both know it.”

  “Maybe.” Then she shifted until she could see straight into his face. “Have you given much thought to the fact that we might never have met up again if it wasn’t for the discovery of that poor little baby?”

  “Yeah, I’ve thought about it,” Trey said. “And you know what I think?”

  She shook her head.

  “I think things happen for a reason, and at the time they’re supposed to happen. Last week I would never have dreamed of having you back in my life. Then, a few days ago, I found you and nearly lost you, all within twenty-four hours. When I got the call about your accident…well, let’s just say that I don’t ever want to feel like that again.”

  “Do you know what I was thinking when my car flew up in the air the first time?”

  A muscle jumped in Trey’s jaw as he cupped his hand against her cheek.

  “I can only imagine,” he said.

  “I was thinking how stupid I’d been to find the love of my life not once, but twice, and walk away from him both times. I was wishing I hadn’t left you. I was wishing I didn’t have to die.”

  “You’re not going to die. A lot of people made sure of that.”

  “Including you,” she said. “I heard the nurses talking. The man who shot at me…”

  “What about him?” Trey said.

  “He was here, wasn’t he? He came that same night and tried to finish what he’d started.”

  Trey sighed. It was inevitable that she would learn of the incident sometime, but he would have preferred it to be later, rather than sooner.

  “Yes, he came back,” Trey said. “But he didn’t hurt you. I made sure of that.”

  “I know,” Olivia said. “You saved my life.”

  Trey shrugged.

  “What about the man?” Olivia asked. “Is he locked up?”

  “Rawlins? Yes, he’s gone. Locked up where he won’t ever hurt you or anybody else again.”

  “So…now what? What about that baby?”

  “The case is going nowhere, and I’ve got this overwhelming sense of guilt, as if I’m somehow letting her down.”

  “What about the DNA tests? When will you know something about them?”

  Trey shrugged. “Who knows? I asked for a rush, but that stuff just takes time. And there’s still Terrence Sealy to test, too, you know.”

  Olivia nodded.

  “What’s with him and your grandfather?” Trey asked.

  A frown line ran the length of Olivia’s forehead.

  “You know…until the other day, when you mentioned he would be coming back to the States, I don’t think I really knew there were bad feelings between them. I can remember my grandfather talking about Aunt Carolyn and Uncle Terrence coming to the house for the holidays…Thanksgiving, Christmas…you know, the times when families usually get together. But I was too young to remember. I think they moved to Italy before the kidnapping.” She thought for a moment.

  “Aunt Carolyn is a lot younger than Uncle Terrence, you know.”

  “How much younger?” Trey asked.

  “I’m not sure, but I’d guess at least twenty years. I think she’s around the same age as my father.”

  A thought came and went in Trey’s mind so fast that he almost didn’t bother to focus; then he ran it back through his mind one more time.

  “Hey, honey?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you ever remember hearing your grandfather reminisce about your parents during the holidays…you know, stuff like how much he missed them, or funny stories about them?”

  “No. No one talked about my parents in my presence. Ever.”

  “Why not?”

  “I think it was because they were all afraid it would bring back horrible memories, but the truth of it is, I can’t remember either of them. Not their faces. Not anything we did together.”

  Then her expression shifted, and she began to pick at the sheet with a nervous motion.

  “Do you think that’s strange?” she asked. “Wouldn’t you think I would have at least one memory?”

  Trey saw the fear in her eyes and regretted bringing up the subject. She needed to concentrate on getting well, not wondering if she’d grown up in a house where she didn’t belong.

  “No, I don’t think that’s strange at all. I don’t know anybody who can remember things from when they were that young.”

  Olivia sighed.

  “What?” Trey asked. “Talk to me.”

  “The only memories I have are of Anna and Grampy, and of Rose.”

  “And that makes you believe you lived somewhere else before? Are you trying to convince yourself that the wrong child was returned to the Sealys?”

  Olivia looked away.

  “Are you?” Trey persisted.

  Olivia continued to pick at the sheet. Trey glanced down and saw her fingers shaking, and his heart went out to her.

  “Livvie…darling…whatever happened, it was not your fault. You were…are…an innocent victim in this mess.”

  “I know, but—”

  “But nothing. And there’s one more thing you need to keep in mind.”

  She looked up then, and saw the love in Trey’s eyes.

  “Remember that no matter who you started out to be, you were always the same to me. I loved you when you were a girl, and I’m falling in love with you all over again. You will always be my Livvie, okay?”

  Her chin quivered, but it was her only concession to emotion.

  “Oh, Trey, I don’t deserve you, but I’m so glad you’re in my life again.”

  “Yeah, baby, so am I,” Trey said softly, and this time, when he bent down to kiss her, she kissed him back.

  The pull of her lips was sweet, the softness of her breath against his face even sweeter. He could remember the soft, uneven sound of her breathing as they’d made love, and the way she’d arched up to meet him at the moment of climax. It had been passion at its best—new and hot between hearts yet to be broken. He wanted to make love to her again. He wanted to know the woman as he’d known the girl.

  11

  Anna was settling in with Rose better than Marcus could have imagined, but every time he visited Olivia in the hospital, he had to reassure her that Anna was okay. She was upset by her old nanny’s mental deterioration and, like him, felt a great amount of guilt for having neglected Anna. What he didn’t talk to her about was the impending arrival of his cousin, Terrence.

  Marcus remembered the family gossip about Terrence’s father. He’d been the black sheep of the Sealy family, and Terrence had been well aware of that fact while growing up. He’d had a constant chip on his shoulder and swaggered his way through his teenage years and into his early twenties in an effort to make up for that fact.

  During that time Marcus and Terrence met a girl named Amelia Fisher at a party. They both fell in love with her, but she chose Marcus. Two years later, when Marcus married Amelia, Terrence was noticeably absent from the wedding.

  It wasn’t until Marcus and Amelia were on their honeymoon that Amelia broke down in hysterics. Through choking sobs, she admitted to Marcus that, in a drunken rage, Terrence had forced himself on her the night before their wedding, and that she had been too shocked, then too ashamed, to tell. Marcus was stunned, then furious enough to kill. Even while he was assuring Amelia that he didn’t blame her and would love her forever, he was planning what he would do to Terrence when they returned.

  With Marcus’s patience and love, they managed to regain some happiness during their honeymoon, even though the taint of what Terrence had done was constant fuel to his rage. By the time they returned and set up their own household, Marcus could stand it no longer.

  One night, after Amelia had fallen asleep, he left their house, got in his car and drove to Terrence’s apartment. He let himself in with Terrence’s extra key, the key he kept und
er a potted plant in the hallway, and quietly locked the door behind him as he entered.

  Terrence was asleep in his bed when he was awakened by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. He knew, even before he saw Marcus appear in the darkened doorway to his bedroom, who it would be. On one hand, he was as afraid as he’d ever been in his life, and on the other, almost relieved that this moment had come. When he’d sobered up and realized what he’d done, he’d been horrified, but it was too late to change what had happened.

  Now justice was coming for him, and he welcomed it. He threw back the covers and sat up in bed just as Marcus came into the room.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m truly sorry.”

  Marcus doubled up his fist and hit him square in the mouth. The sound echoed in Terrence’s head like the crack of a whip as blood spurted between his teeth. Before Terrence could get up, Marcus had him by the hair and was dragging him out of the bed.

  “You bastard,” Marcus muttered, his voice shaking with rage. “You unmentionable, disgusting excuse for a man. You’re nothing but a dog…an animal. As for being sorry, you’ve been that since the day you were born.”

  The words stung more than the blow to his mouth, but Terrence couldn’t bring himself to argue. It was true.

  Then Marcus hit him again.

  Terrence did his best to defend himself but was helpless against his cousin’s rage. The fight went on for what seemed like hours. Furniture was overturned; lamps were broken; revenge ruled. Just when Terrence thought he’d drawn his last breath, it was over.

  Marcus staggered backward, then dragged himself upright. Blood poured from a cut over his eyebrow, and his mouth was bloodied and swollen. He’d broken two fingers on one hand and knocked a knuckle out of place on the other. His hands were so swollen he could no longer make a fist, and the pain in his chest had been replaced by a horrible sense of loss. Because of Terrence, their family unity had been forever destroyed. To protect Amelia’s reputation and pride, he would never tell what Terrence had done. But the damage had been done and would forever stand between them through the years.

  When he’d gotten home, Amelia had been waiting for him at the door. She took one look at his bloodied face and hands and started to cry. Nothing was ever said of that night, but it seemed to Marcus that Amelia’s behavior changed for the better afterward. Where she’d been solemn and even withdrawn, she began to laugh again. What Marcus had done gave her a sense of justice having been served.

  Years later, it was Amelia who had fostered the end to their silent war. The day Terrence married Carolyn, Amelia told Marcus that their outward animosity had to end. She said she wouldn’t have an innocent young woman like Carolyn suffering an unfair estrangement from the family into which she’d just married. Against every instinct Marcus had, he’d given in to Amelia’s decision.

  Through the ensuing years, Terrence and Carolyn were often honored guests in Marcus’s home and part of the event when Marcus’s son married. Even after Amelia died, Marcus continued to include the couple in family gatherings because his beloved Amelia had wished it to be so.

  Olivia’s birth was a celebrated event and Terrance proudly took on the title of Uncle although he was only a cousin. Then they moved and Marcus was relieved. But it was with those memories that Marcus Sealy still lived. After all these years, he still hated the man. Despite his regard for Terrence’s wife, when they’d moved to Italy, Marcus had hoped to never lay eyes on him again. But the discovery of the murdered baby had changed all that. He couldn’t help but consider the possibility that Terrence might be the child’s father. It would explain everything. Because of what had happened to Amelia, he believed Terrence capable of cheating on Carolyn, although he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around Terrence being capable of murder—especially a child of his own. He’d been crazy about Olivia and doted on her to the point that he became her favorite relative—other than her Grampy, of course. But back then she’d just been a baby. Terrence and Carolyn had left before the kidnapping had occurred.

  And tomorrow they would be back. It was almost more than Marcus could absorb. He carried the burden of his thoughts as he set out for his daily visit to the hospital.

  Olivia was sitting up in a chair, watching the two nurses changing the sheets on her bed and listening to their chatter without paying much attention to what they were saying. It wasn’t until she heard one of them mention Trey Bonney’s name that she sat up and took notice. She’d heard bits and pieces of the accounts of his heroism, but she was about to hear it from front to back.

  “Excuse me, but what is that you were saying about Detective Bonney?”

  The little redheaded nurse rolled her eyes in a mock swoon.

  “Besides the fact that he’s such a honey?” she said.

  Olivia grinned. “Yes, besides that.”

  “We were just talking about how he caught that man who set the fire in the janitor’s closet.”

  “The man who was after me?” Olivia asked.

  “Yes. It was like something out of the movies. We were all out in the hall. Smoke was everywhere, and everyone was getting panicked, and then the sprinkler system came on. What a mess! We ran out of dry sheets, and the laundry room worked overtime for the first time in years. Anyway…Detective Bonney came flying out of your room and went straight to the source of the fire. We were just getting that under control when he saw the door to your room was shut. Well, let me tell you…he yelled at us to call security and charged back inside. Before we knew it, he was dragging this guy out of your room by the neck, and he shoved him to the floor and handcuffed him right before our eyes. Like I said…just like in the movies.”

  Olivia shivered. She had seen the man’s face—seen the maniacal glitter in his eyes. To think that he’d been in her room, by her bed, moments away from finishing what he’d started, was overwhelming. Except for Trey, he would have succeeded.

  She shuddered, then leaned back and closed her eyes.

  A few minutes later, the nurses were through.

  “You want to get back in bed?” the redhead asked.

  “I think I’ll just sit here a while longer,” Olivia said.

  “Doctor says you’ll go home tomorrow,” the nurse added. “I know you’ll be glad. You’re doing great, you know.”

  “Yes, I do know,” Olivia said. “I’m a very fortunate woman.”

  “Yes, you are. Honey, someone is for sure looking over you…besides that yummy detective, that is.”

  Olivia managed a smile, but inside she was shaking. The stress of the past two weeks was catching up to her fast. No sooner had the nurses left than she began to cry. For the first time in her life, she was beginning to understand how swiftly things could change. One day she and her grandfather had been living a privileged and luxurious lifestyle, and the next their past was spread all over the papers. Before she’d even come to terms with that, someone had tried to kill her—twice. She wanted to feel safe. But right now, she felt used up and bereft.

  And that was how Marcus found her.

  Marcus got off the elevator with a heavy heart. His steps were dragging as he started down the hall to Olivia’s room. He had to get past this feeling of impending doom, but he didn’t know how. There was so much turmoil in their lives. Between the media, the police investigation and the arrival of unwelcome guests, he was more than a little overwhelmed. There was a part of him that wished he and Olivia could go back to that wonderful trip they’d had in Europe and never come home.

  On top of everything, he was concerned about Anna. Her presence in their home should have seemed normal. After all, she’d spent nearly sixteen years with them before she’d retired with a generous annuity, a home and a car. Instead, her diminishing sanity added to the strain of dealing with Olivia’s injuries and the constant meddling of the media.

  Then there was the guilt he was still trying to sort through regarding Olivia’s personal life. He didn’t know who he was more disgusted with—himself for riding roughs
hod over every man she’d ever shown an interest in, or her for letting him do it. Only now was he coming to realize that Olivia had been living with a lifetime of guilt. Somehow she’d blamed herself for the murder of her own parents and for getting kidnapped. It didn’t make sense, but guilt rarely, if ever, did.

  And then there were Terrence and Carolyn.

  Old ghosts.

  New fears.

  Could the Sealy family actually be connected to the murder of a child? And, if so, who was that little girl? Who did she belong to?

  As he neared the door to Olivia’s room, he shook off his malaise. She needed positive feedback, not more problems, but when he walked in, it was obvious she was having a bad day of her own.

  Olivia’s shoulders were shaking from the strength of her sobs. She didn’t hear the door open or see her grandfather enter. But she heard the concern in his voice as he hurried toward her.

  “Olivia! Darling! What’s wrong? Has something else happened?”

  Olivia struggled to regain her composure, but she was too far gone to make it happen.

  “Oh, Grampy…everything is such a mess.”

  Gently, Marcus pulled her out of the chair and into his arms.

  “I know, darling, I know. But it will get better, you know. Eventually, everything always does.”

  “I don’t know how to deal with all this. Every time someone I don’t know comes into my room, I wonder what they think of me. Of the fact that someone wanted me dead. And then there’s that poor little baby. Last night I dreamed it was me in the suitcase, and I was crying and crying and nobody came.”

  Marcus groaned. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve had too much to deal with. That didn’t happen, and you know it. I would give anything to have been the one that crazed man went after, instead of you. I wish with all my heart that I could prove to your satisfaction that you belong. But I can only tell you over and over what I believe. You are my grandchild. You are innocent of anything except being a victim. And tomorrow I am taking you out of this place and back home where you belong.”

  “I want to go now,” Olivia said. “I don’t want to spend another night in this place, afraid to close my eyes for fear another crazy person will take it into his head to finish what the first one started.”