Parenthood was an excellent induction. It took them both into uncharted waters and evened the playing field, which admittedly had at one time been tilted in Tony’s favor. Every day with Nichol was an exciting new adventure. Claire didn’t want it to end any sooner than necessary. For the first time, she had her dream. It was the relationship she witnessed with her parents and grandparents. At one time, she believed happily ever after was outside of her reach. Now, it was her reality. She wasn’t ready for that to end. After all, it wasn’t supposed to end. The fairy tales her dad read to her as a child ended with they lived happily ever after.
Claire wanted to believe that was the end of their story, but she feared it wasn’t.
That night, Claire lay in bed and listened to the sounds of her paradise. Unless she concentrated the ever-present surf no longer registered. What brought the smile to her face and peace to her heart were the sounds coming from the attached nursery. The rockers of the chair creaked against the bamboo floor. Claire closed her eyes and pictured Tony holding Nichol.
Tonight, their daughter had made it all the way until 3:00 AM before waking to eat. Before her cries registered to Claire, Tony was out of bed. Minutes later, he brought a freshly changed, cooing bundle to Claire. The middle of the night feeding was their special time. It was as if their room, their bed, and their family existed in a bubble which no outside force could penetrate; then, as was their routine, when Nichol’s belly was full, Tony told Claire to sleep, took their daughter to the attached nursery, and rocked her back to sleep.
Normally, Claire would drift away as his deep baritone voice spoke softly in the other room. Some nights, she’d try to listen to his words; however, sometimes she felt like an intruder on their private talks. Tonight, she gleaned words here and there as he lulled Nichol back to her world of slumber. The words that registered were Tony’s affirmations of devotion. She couldn’t help but notice that the word safe seemed to be tonight’s recurring theme. Claire twisted on the satin sheets realizing that hearing him repeat that word had the opposite effect on her.
When Tony finally climbed back to bed, Claire nuzzled against his chest. The lingering scent of cologne combined with a faint aroma of baby powder overpowered her senses. Her voice cracked as she tried to sound strong, “I love you.” She didn’t want him to know how scared she was. After all, she was the one who demanded to accompany him to the States.
Tony stroked her back and whispered, “I love you, too.” As if to reassure not only Claire but himself, he pulled her tighter and proclaimed, “It’ll all be all right. I won’t let anything happen to you or her.”
Claire nodded into his chest. She knew, even with his hushed tone, he meant every word, but at this moment, it wasn’t hers or Nichol’s safety Claire doubted. “What about you? Who’s keeping you safe and assuring your return?” Her tears ran onto his chest as she no longer attempted to feign strength. “I’m not just worried about Catherine.” Her words came in snippets, interspersed with deep painful sobs. “What about the authorities? I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want this to end.”
Tony’s head fell against the headboard as he continued to rub circles on the soft, exposed skin of her back. “I don’t deserve to be kept safe.”
She sat up and stared at him through the darkness. “Don’t you dare say that!”
“It’s true. I’ve done awful things, and I deserve to pay for them.”
“Tony, please stop.”
He sat taller, pulling Claire close and tried to explain. “The thing is, if this had all come down years ago, before you, I would’ve thought it was undeserved: an injustice. Like how I used to see my grandfather’s consequences, but now—now I know I deserve it. Back then, I would’ve gone away concerned only with Rawlings Industries. Now, everything’s different. The idea of being away from you and Nichol kills me. That separation, no matter if it starts sooner or later, will be worse than anything they could’ve done to me before.”
“You’re turning state’s evidence against Catherine. With Brent, Tom, and all your legal team, maybe you can avoid jail time?”
“Damn it, Claire! You don’t deserve any of this. Maybe we shouldn’t have remarried; then you wouldn’t be married to someone who’s discussing jail time, and you sure as hell wouldn’t be harboring a fugitive.”
Claire smirked. “I don’t know. You’re married to someone who’s been in a federal prison.”
His head fell to hers, as if he couldn’t allow any part of him to not be in contact with her. “You’re so much stronger than I.”
“I hardly think that’s true.”
“I don’t know if I could survive what’s happened to you.” She felt him stiffen as he corrected, “What I’ve done to you.”
She let her fingers swirl through the soft hair on his broad chest. “It’s over, and you will survive it. We’ll survive it. We’ve made it this far.”
“I’ve never asked, and you’ve never said. What was it like?”
“Tony, please—”
He rolled her over to her back. From the faint light of the nursery and the moon over the sea, Claire saw the emotion in his eyes. She saw regret, sadness, and perhaps even fear. Instead of making that pain worse, she wanted to take it away. Swallowing her memories of prison: the memories of loneliness, the desperate need for fresh air, and the ever-threatening depression, she answered, “It was very routine.”
He raised his brow.
Claire reached up and caressed his cheek. The stubble made her smile. She loved the sensation of that stubble on her skin. “Every day is the same. You wake at the same time, eat, go from place to place, shower, sleep. Everything is scheduled.”
“You’ll never know how sorry I am that I’ve ruined your life. You deserve so much better than me.”
She arched her back so that her lips contacted that same stubble. After a lingering kiss, she replied, “Are you saying you wish we weren’t here, right now? That you wish we weren’t together?”
Tony shook his head. “You know I’m not.”
She pressed her breasts upward. The sensation of his hard chest brought her over-sensitive nipples to attention. “I’ll admit there were parts of the journey I’d prefer to forget; the destination is…” She teased the rough skin. “…worth it and amazing.”
His eyes closed and tone turned sultry. “Mrs. Rawlings, you’re playing with fire. I’m fighting a lot of thoughts and emotions right now. If you aren’t careful, then I can’t promise I’ll be able to control my actions.”
Again, she arched upward this time, her teeth playfully nipped the lobe of his ear. She smiled as she received her desired effect: the familiar growl resonated from the back of his throat. His words were gone.
While he pulled the satin gown away from her breasts, she ran her fingers through his hair and whispered, “I’ve played with fire before. I like it.” Feeling his desire against her leg, she murmured, “And sometimes control is overrated.”
The sandpaper-like stubble scratched the soft skin of her enlarged breasts. With each turn of his cheek, her senses electrified. Currents of yearning coursed through her body. The combination of pain and pleasure melted into ecstasy. Claire hugged Tony’s face to her breasts while his hands caressed and encouraged. Nichol wasn’t the only one who enjoyed the liquid feast Claire had to offer.
The next few minutes faded into a cloud of passion. Her nightgown lay upon the floor in a puddle of satin, and his gym shorts disappeared. The tropical humidity added to the sultry moisture molding their bodies together. His broad chest weighed heavily upon her breasts as he pinned her petite body to the soft sheets. Skin to skin they were lost in one another. She closed her eyes as she mindlessly responded to his caresses. Endlessly, his fingers probed as he teased and taunted her desires. Claire couldn’t stand the anticipation any longer. Her entire being cried out as she begged for relief.
No other man had filled her so completely. No other man had taken her to the pits of hell and the uppermost parts of heav
en. Her fingers clutched tightly to his shoulders as they momentarily forgot their troubles. Their world was right here and right now. Her body convulsed as she cried out to the only man who knew her completely. Before she could think coherent thoughts, before her body settled from its intense state, Tony too found relief. It was a brief reprieve from the demons surrounding them; nonetheless, it was a break. With the breeze from the ceiling fan stirring the early morning air, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, pretending their safety in paradise would last forever.
Phil secured their new identifications and accompanied them through the multiple TSA checkpoints. Not once was his documentation questioned, as they safely re-entered the United States. Claire’s wig was short, and Tony’s contacts made his eyes a shade of green. Their travel clothes mimicked those of everyone else, and they traveled economy class. Although Nichol didn’t wear a disguise, the four blended well into the anonymous masses.
Before they left their haven, Claire hugged Francis and Madeline and promised their safe return. The couple didn’t know the ins and outs of the Rawlings’ legal issues. They did know they’d all grown fond of one another, and Nichol was the light of their world. Tony explained that he had created a trust fund that would assure the island retreat’s financial solvency. He assured Francis and Madeline everything would remain flush until they returned.
They both promised the couple that their return would be sooner rather than later. Claire’s heart broke as Madeline’s large tears dampened her shoulder during their farewell. She knew if it wasn’t her sister’s life at stake, she’d never have left their island.
It took two full days flying commercial, but finally they arrived in Cedar Rapids. It was late at night—after midnight, and thankfully, the airport was quiet, calm, and uneventful. After spending six months in the tropics, the cool March Iowa air chilled Claire to her bone. She shivered in the backseat of the van Phil had arranged to have waiting. With each shiver, Claire covered Nichol with another blanket.
While Phil drove, Tony reached over the babyseat and held Claire’s hand. “You’re trembling. Are you all right?”
“I think I’m just cold.”
Rubbing her gloved hand, he moved it to his lips. “No one noticed us, Mrs. Rawlings. You can relax.”
She exhaled and watched her breath create a frozen mist. “I can’t believe we’re going to show up on Courtney and Brent’s doorstep. I’m excited to see them, but what will they say? We lied to them.”
Tony and Phil’s eyes meet in the rearview mirror. Claire asked, “What? If there’s something, tell me. I’m sick and tired of secrets.”
Tony squeezed her hand and tried to explain, “Knowledge is leverage for the law. Right now, I’m wanted and you’ve been harboring me. If the Simmons were caught communicating with either of us, they could be charged with aiding and abetting a fugitive.”
“Then let’s stay in a hotel. I don’t want to put them at risk.”
This time, Phil answered, “Claire, they want you there.”
“But how? How would they know?”
Tony replied, “They’ve known since before you and I met up in paradise. Brent’s known you’re alive since the FBI questioned me. The authorities wouldn’t allow him to share. Of course, he told Courtney.”
“All these months! Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been berating myself over lying to my family and friends. Do Emily and John know the truth?”
Tony’s tone became businesslike. “If you’d have known, you would have wanted to communicate, and no, it made more sense for the Vandersols to remain in the dark.”
Claire stared.
Tony continued, “We’d hoped their pursuit of me and Rawlings Industries would keep them safe. That as long as they were helping to hurt me, we hoped that Catherine would leave them alone.”
Tears coated Claire’s cheeks as she turned toward the dark, dead landscape. Thankfully, there wasn’t any snow, but each tree along the way was leafless and the fields were empty and dark. Claire wasn’t sure why she was crying. Perhaps it was exhaustion or stress. Maybe it was anticipation at seeing Brent and Courtney and John and Emily again.
Her thoughts evaporated as her husband’s hand reached for her chin. With his thumb and forefinger, Tony turned her gaze toward him. Through the darkness of the van she saw his clenched jaw. “Can you please be mad at me later? We’ve got a lot going on.”
Not trying to move away from his determined tone, Claire closed her tired eyelids causing more tears to rush down her cheeks, and explained, “I’m not mad. You’re right. I would’ve thought about calling daily. After Nichol was born, I probably would’ve done it, even if I knew I shouldn’t.” Claire used her gloves to wipe her face. “I’m tired and scared.”
Tony reassuringly took her gloved hand in his. Phil interjected, “The Simmons know about Nichol, and they can’t wait to meet her. Emily and John aren’t due to arrive until tomorrow afternoon.”
Tony smiled and said, “We’ll get some sleep and you’ll feel better.” His devilish grin reappeared as he whispered, “Or not sleep?”
Claire shook her head. “I’m afraid our princess won’t understand the time change. We may spend the night up, in shifts, with her.”
Still holding his wife’s hand, Tony shrugged, leaned against the vinyl seat, and sighed. “That’s not quite the up I was imagining.”
Claire’s eyes darted toward the rearview mirror. Courteously, Phil appeared lost in his own thoughts, unable to hear the whispers which only moments earlier he’d answered. Claire shook her head and peered under the blankets at a sleeping Nichol. With a weary smile, she placed one hand over their daughter, and enjoyed the sensation of her little chest moving up and down.
For a moment, Claire envied Nichol’s ignorance. As long as she was fed, clean, and loved, their daughter didn’t know the evils that lurked in the shadows. With her other hand, Claire clung tightly to Tony. Closing her eyes, she said a prayer to keep her family safe.
Chapter Forty-Four
Friends show their love in times of trouble, not in happiness.
—Euripides
Forty-eight hours of traveling took its toll. Claire must have fallen asleep because, when she opened her eyes, Phil was pulling the van into the Simmons’ garage. Even in the dark of night, she recognized the brick drive. Inside the garage directly in the beams of the headlights, Claire saw Courtney and Brent. Her heart leapt. “Oh! I can’t believe we’re really here.” Turning to see Tony’s face, she read a hundred emotions. Happiness or even relief didn’t seem to be the top contenders. She asked, “Aren’t you happy to be here?”
“I am.” He squeezed her hand. “I just realized the last time I saw or spoke to Brent we discussed something I’d rather forget. He probably told Courtney—” The van stopped as did Tony’s words. Claire watched Brent hit the button to close the door as she and Tony reached for their handles.
Phil stopped them. “Don’t open the van doors until the garage is closed. I don’t think we were followed. I took a lot of back roads, but you can’t be sure their house isn’t being watched.”
The reality of their situation came rushing back with the familiar pounding behind Claire’s temples. She’d taken some acetaminophen during their last layover before Iowa, but that was hours ago and the dull ache was becoming a nonstop pound. Trying to relieve the tension, she rolled her neck right then left. She wasn’t thinking, or she wouldn’t have done that in front of Tony.
“Do you have a headache?”
Claire smiled and shook her head. Telling him wouldn’t make her feel better, and she knew how much he hated her headaches. They reminded him of a time long ago. “I’m fine; what did you two talk about?”
Before he could answer, Phil had his door open and Courtney was rushing toward the van. Claire’s door sprang open, and without warning, she was swallowed in Courtney’s hug. “I’m so glad you two came here! Let’s get you in the house where it’s warm.”
Freeing herself from her b
est friend’s embrace, Claire interjected, “Thank you for letting us come… all three of us!” Tony had unbuckled the baby seat. Claire moved it to her lap, pulled back the blankets, and revealed their daughter. The biggest brown eyes stared up toward her mother’s voice.
“She’s beautiful!” Courtney squealed.
Tony was now to Claire’s door. “May we introduce Nichol Courtney Rawlings?”
Courtney put her hand to her lips as tears moistened her eyes. “Nichol Courtney?”
Tony nodded as a proud smile emerged.
Courtney hugged Tony and whispered, “We’ve missed all of you.”
Brent put out his hand. Though Tony had worked to mask whatever he was feeling, Claire saw a micro-expression of relief as the two men shook hands. She wondered again what they’d discussed, many months ago.
Within the warmth of the kitchen, Claire removed Nichol from her seat while Phil casually asked where he could retire. Claire’s pulse quickened when Brent said, “Mr. Roach, let me show you to your room. Tony, would you like to join us for a minute?”
Although Tony showed no outward signs of concern, Claire knew from his earlier comment there may be need. As the three men disappeared, she wondered what they needed to discuss. If it was about Emily or Tony, then Claire wanted to know. Courtney’s voice brought Claire back to present. “We had no idea you named her after me.” Her blue eyes glistened as she asked, “May I hold her?”
“Her name’s a long story, but Courtney was a name we both agreed upon. You’ve always been so good to both of us. Of course you can hold her; let me change her first.”
Courtney couldn’t pry her eyes away from Nichol. “I don’t mind. Oh my, Claire, look at those eyes.”
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