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Broken Ties

Page 7

by Gloria Davidson Marlow


  They will stop at nothing to find you. And when they do, they will kill you.

  Carlotta’s words whispered through her mind. Why in the world had she left Levi? They will torture your lover, pluck out his eyes, and take his tongue. She took a shuddering breath. She had no choice but to leave him. She couldn’t let him die, not for her.

  The car crept up behind her, slowly trailing her down the sidewalk. Her heart pounded in her chest and a sob escaped her, as she braced herself for whatever was about to happen. Would they shoot her in the back? Abduct her? She sped up, they sped up, she slowed down, they slowed down, until she was ready to scream with anxiety. Finally, she could stand it no more, and she stopped and turned. It was time to face whoever was following her. Although her knees threatened to give way at any moment, she stood her ground as the back passenger-side door opened and a shiny black shoe appeared. She swallowed hard. If this man wanted to kill her out in the open, he could have done that on a number of occasions. He had ransacked her apartment, so there must be something he suspected she had. Something that he needed before he killed her. At least Levi wasn’t here. She had made certain he was out of danger. Unless there was more than one of them, she thought. The thought made her waver where she stood. Had someone hung back to take care of him while this man followed her? Were they torturing him at this very moment, demanding he tell them her whereabouts? Would he be killed because he didn’t know the answer to their questions?

  Heart pounding, she waited for the dark brawny man who tried to kidnap her to appear. He didn’t materialize, however, and the man who stepped from the car was the farthest thing removed from him she could imagine. Tall and blond, with chiseled bronzed features and a lean athletic build, he looked far too noble and debonair to be a kidnapper of women. Was he the mastermind? The one who sent the other to do his bidding?

  He stopped a few feet away from her, bending at his waist with a grand flourish of his hand.

  “Your Highness,” he said in a deeply accented voice. “I am so glad to have found you at last.”

  Headlights blazed to life behind her, and his gaze darted over her shoulder. Before she could run, he was on top of her, knocking her to the ground as a bullet whizzed past her ear and buried itself in the concrete post beside her.

  The man cupped his hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming as the second bullet shattered the window of his car.

  A dizzying wave of shock rushed over her, and she fought to maintain control of her mind and body. She couldn’t faint. She had no idea if he was friend or foe, but she wasn’t willing to take any chances. She had to be alert so she could act on any opportunity to escape.

  Any hope of escape died when he pulled a gun and began firing in the direction of the unknown shooter. Gunfire rang in her ears, mixing with the cries of alarm coming from the businesses along the sidewalk.

  The shooting stopped, leaving the parking lot in utter silence except for the faint sound of a siren in the distance. Through a billowing wave of darkness, she saw a familiar SUV pull to the curb. Levi flung the door open before he had come to complete stop.

  “Get in!” he roared and the man pushed her inside, leaping in behind her as the vehicle surged forward.

  The shooter had time to fire only one more time before jumping out of the way of the vehicle intent on mowing him down. The bullet struck the passenger-side mirror, leaving a gaping hole that Sidra couldn’t pull her eyes away from. She had come a hair’s breadth away from having just such a hole in her.

  “Did I injure you, Princessa?” The blond man asked as he turned toward her.

  “No,” she whispered, his piercing green gaze the last thing she saw as oblivion claimed her and she slumped in her seat.

  ****

  “She’s fainted,” the man announced in a heavily accented voice.

  “Are you sure she’s not hurt?” Levi’s heart dropped. “She wasn’t shot?”

  “I’m certain. I had no choice but to knock her down. She would have been killed otherwise.”

  “Who the hell are you?” He had come into the parking lot just in time to see the man tackle Sidra. It had taken him only seconds to realize the lay of the land and ascertain that this man had saved her life. Although he couldn’t think of a reason someone who wanted her dead would save her, he wasn’t ready to trust the man, either.

  “Philippe Beauchene. I am Princess Sidra’s fiancé.” At Levi’s dubious glare, he continued. “We were promised to one another as infants, and I have been raised knowing she would be my bride.”

  “I don’t think she can say the same,” Levi said, darting a glance behind him. When he was certain no one was following, he pulled the SUV onto a narrow, wooded lane.

  “We shouldn’t stop,” Philippe protested. “The assailants could be just behind us.”

  “They aren’t,” Levi barked as he got out and opened the back door.

  He leaned inside, relieved to see that Sidra appeared to be rousing. He smoothed her hair from her face, watching her closely as her eyes fluttered open.

  “What the hell were you thinking, running away like that?” He wanted to sound angry, but his words came out rough with emotion. “You could have been killed.”

  “I don’t want you endangering your life,” she told him as he helped her sit up, a steadying hand on her arm. “I thought if I disappeared, they would leave you alone.”

  “Did you really think I would let you disappear?” How could she think he’d just let her go? Didn’t she realize what she meant to him? “Did you think whoever’s after you would give up that easily?”

  “No, I knew they would find me, but I hoped they would realize you were no longer involved, and you wouldn’t be in danger.”

  “Don’t ever do that again,” he ordered. “Where you are, I am, and where I am, you are. We’re in this together, and if they get to you, it will be through my dead body. Understand?”

  Brown eyes stared into his, begging him for something he was unable to give: the assurance that it wouldn’t come to that and, if it did, he wouldn’t die to save her.

  The green-eyed stranger cleared his throat, bringing their attention to him.

  “Who are you?” A furrow appeared between her brows as she studied him.

  “Philippe Beauchene. I am your—”

  “I remember playing with you when we were children.” Her voice was filled with awe as she flung her arms around the man’s neck, and the uncharacteristic show of affection brought Levi up short.

  “You remember him?”

  “Yes. He is—”

  “Your fiancé?” Levi spit out.

  She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “I was nothing but a child the last time I saw him. Of course he isn’t my fiancé.”

  “Princess, you may not remember it, but we were betrothed long ago. Our parents tied the bond, and it cannot be broken.”

  “What are you talking about?” Her voice was frightened, and Levi was reminded of the old woman’s words about the ties being broken.

  “In our country, each family has a unique woven fabric. It is similar to what the Scottish call tartans. When two families wish to join together, they betroth their children by tying pieces of the fabrics together. The bonds cannot be broken until the wedding is done. Then the two fabrics are sewn together to create a wedding quilt. It is sworn to have powers that bless the union with healthy, numerous offspring.”

  “Enough!” Levi exclaimed. There would be no union or offspring between Sidra and Philippe Beauchene. Or anyone else, for that matter. He wouldn’t stand for it. He closed the back door and climbed into the driver’s seat. “We need to get back on the road.”

  He slammed his door, relieved when the overhead light clicked off, leaving them in darkness. The less Sidra stared at their passenger the better.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Sidra and I are going to another town,” Levi said, slamming the car into drive. “You, I’m putting out at the next gas station.”
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  “No!” Sidra’s voice was sharp and anxious.

  Levi’s eyes met hers in the rearview mirror.

  “You can’t leave him unprotected,” she said, her eyes luminous in the darkened vehicle. “They’ll find him. You saw that picture. They might torture him until he tells them where I am.”

  “Sidra,” he said, but stopped when he saw the plea in her eyes.

  “Please.” Her fear was thick and tangible, as real as the ground they drove on.

  “Fine.” He sighed in exasperation and surrender. Turning toward Philippe, he said, “It looks like you’ll be coming with us to Gulfview. Sidra will be safe there, and you will do exactly what I tell you to keep her that way. For the moment, start by telling us everything you know about the men who are trying to kill her, and why.”

  “Have you not told him who you are?” Philippe asked Sidra.

  “I have no idea who I am. Three days ago, I was only a woman who remembered nothing of her life before she was found at a rest area on I-95. I have little more information now than I did then, but I’m slowly recalling bits and pieces of what happened.”

  “My God! You can’t be serious!”

  “Of course I’m serious,” Sidra snapped. “You obviously know who I am, so why don’t you tell us?”

  He took a deep breath.

  “You are Princess Sidra Deleon Maria de Marin of Medelia.”

  “Medelia?”

  “Yes, it is a small but beautiful island in the Mediterranean Sea, near the border between France and Italy.” He waved his hands. “Our forefathers escaped the Spanish Inquisition and formed their own colony there. Your roots are deep in Medelia, Princess, and your family has reigned there since their arrival on the island.”

  “I don’t remember it, whether you believe me or not.”

  “Why wouldn’t I believe you? You were barely six years old when you were taken. The kidnapping alone would have been quite traumatic, but the memories of all that happened must have been more than your poor little mind could stand.”

  “What else happened?” she asked, but Levi knew she was thinking of the picture she had received that morning. At some point in time, she had witnessed a murder, a horrible, torturous murder of someone she might have loved and trusted to keep her safe.

  “None of that is important,” Philippe told her. “What is important is that you are alive and will be returning home to Medelia. The queen will be overjoyed.”

  “The queen?” Hope resonated in the quest. “You mean my mother? Did she send you to find me?”

  “No. Your parents searched for you for months after your abduction, refusing to give up hope you would be found. They waited by the phone, expecting to receive a ransom note or a demand for something in return for your safety.”

  “Did they ever receive one?”

  He shook his head. “No. They only received one small package. It contained a lock of your hair and a blood-stained tiara. They gave up searching then.”

  “They thought I was dead?”

  “Yes. What else could they think?”

  “Do they know you’ve found me? Do they know I’ve been found?”

  He reached back and took her hand, his voice going soft with sympathy. Levi wished he could shake the feeling that the sympathy wasn’t real.

  “Ah, my love, I am so sorry to tell you that your parents are no longer alive to know you’ve been found.”

  Even if it hurt her, she had to know. Sidra’s quick indrawn breath drew Levi’s eyes to her. In the rearview mirror, he saw her face register surprise, then pain, as she sank back into the seat and wrapped her arms around herself. His heart broke for her, and he longed to make Philippe stop, but he needed to know everything possible if he was going to keep her safe.

  Chapter Ten

  Feeling as if she’d been punched in the stomach, Sidra wrapped her arms around her midsection. Her parents were dead, lost to her forever. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to picture them in her mind.

  Mon beau sapin,

  Roi des forêts,

  Que j'aime ta verdure.

  Her father, dark blond hair gleaming in the firelight, motioned her toward him as he sang in a smooth, rich tenor. When Sidra reached him, he handed her the glittering gold star, wrapped his hands around her waist, and placed her on his shoulders.

  Her mother, who sat at the piano with baby Andres in a basket at her side, cried out as he grasped Sidra’s legs and climbed the ladder with her on his shoulders.

  “Be careful, Rupert,” she warned, her eyes bright and smiling as she watched them carefully.

  Laughing at her mother’s dire warnings, he leaned close to the tree, and Sidra pushed the star onto its topmost point. When they stepped down from the ladder, he swung her off his shoulders and spun her around as she laughed with glee.

  “I love you, my Sidra,” he said softly, placing a kiss on her cheek and setting her back on the ground.

  The warm memory faded, and Sidra was alone and cold in Levi’s backseat once more. Philippe was studying her closely, while Levi’s eyes kept searching her face in the mirror. She wished she could climb over the seat and fit her shivering body against him, but she couldn’t do that anymore than she could ignore Philippe’s words. She needed to know the answers to the questions rushing through her head.

  “How did my parents die?” she asked him.

  “Your father died in his sleep a year after your abduction.” He raised a hand to silence her. “Though no one really knows what happened to him, everyone has their suspicions. They range from suicide to poison, but no evidence was found to point to either.”

  “Why would they suspect poison? Who would have done such a thing?”

  “I said that’s enough for one night,” Levi barked out before Philippe could answer.

  Although Sidra wanted to argue at his highhandedness, she didn’t have the energy to object. She wanted to know everything there was to know, yet the little she had learned in the last few minutes had left her feeling battered and bruised.

  Philippe paid Levi no heed at all as he gave the answer to her question.

  “Your mother.”

  She shook her head. “They’re wrong.”

  “How can you possibly know that, darling?” Philippe asked. “You don’t even remember the woman.”

  She had no explanation for the bone-deep certainty that filled her, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt the accusation was false. Why would anyone think it was true?

  “What about my mother?”

  “Your mother was killed in a car accident three years ago. Your brother Andres was with her.” He took a breath and continued. “He was killed, as well.”

  “He was only a baby the last time I saw him. I can’t imagine him as a young man.” Her voice was so soft and sad it broke Levi’s heart. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to make it stop. Everything else they needed to know could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, she’d had enough.

  “Enough!” he choked out when Philippe would have spoken again. “That’s enough.”

  In the silence that ensued, Sidra closed her eyes and thought of the family she had lost so many years ago. In the last few days, she had begun to hope she would meet them again, that they would be happy to see her. Now she would never meet them, never feel her parents’ embrace or see her brother as anything more than the tiny baby he’d been twenty years ago.

  As if her mind needed something positive to latch onto, she was suddenly consumed by the realization that her parents had loved her. She had lost so many years that she would never be able to make up. She had spent so many years believing she was unloved, maybe even unlovable. And all the while, her parents were grieving over the child that had been ripped from their arms, the child they believed was dead.

  Lost in her own thoughts, she nearly didn’t notice the change in Levi as they neared his hometown and the brother who had been left broken and bloodied by what Levi considered an unforgivable mistake on his part.

 
; In the passing streetlights, she could see how pale his face had grown. He clutched the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, and he stared straight ahead.

  She leaned forward and rested her hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. He lifted one hand from the wheel and caressed her fingers before turning his head and placing a gentle kiss there.

  She ignored Philippe’s disapproving noise. He might say he was her fiancé, but that didn’t make it so. Her memories of him only stirred up a rather brotherly affection that paled even to what she felt for Teddy, much less Levi.

  Levi turned off the main thoroughfare onto a two-lane street lined with gaily lit historic homes and buildings that housed numerous shops, restaurants, and offices. When they reached a park where a life-sized nativity stood alongside Santa’s sleigh and all eight reindeer, he turned again, this time onto a winding residential street with wide, grassy lawns and houses set back from the road a good distance. The paved road became a wide dirt drive that led through a field to a Queen-Anne-style house that looked like it had just popped out of a Christmas card.

  A Christmas tree gleamed in the oriel window, and white icicle lights hung from every inch of the outside trim.

  “My mother loves Christmas,” Levi said apologetically as he opened the car door. “I hope it doesn’t disturb you too much.”

  “No, of course not. I’m used to people celebrating Christmas.”

  “Christmas disturbs you?” Philippe asked.

  “It scares the heck out of me, actually,” she tossed over her shoulder as she went to stand beside Levi. It was the first time she had ever said the words aloud to anyone, and she let out a ragged breath of relief.

  She turned her attention to Levi, who was staring at the door as if a firing squad waited on the other side. Taking his hand, she pulled him toward the porch, where red ribbon adorned every post. They would face their fears together, whether either of them was ready or not.

  ****

  “How’s it goin’, bro?” Teddy asked as he stepped out of the shadows of the porch, a metal cane strapped to his left arm and a slow smile spreading across his face.

 

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