by K. R. Rowe
"Ok," she said as she stared at the phone.
He realized after his last conversation with Alex, if something happened to him, she would be alone here. He had to be sure of her safety. "Soon, when it’s safe," he said, "I'm taking you home."
With Christmas just two weeks away, Lucien snuck out again after nightfall and returned with eggnog, rum, and a miniature Christmas tree. "For you, mon ange," he said when he came quietly in the door.
"How sweet!" she said.
Her green eyes danced and a smile lit her face. He assembled the tree on a small table in the corner and they decorated it together. Satisfied with their masterpiece, they sat close and relaxed while enjoying the sweet taste of rum and eggnog.
"Lucien?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think my memory will ever come back?"
"I don't know," he said as he stretched out to get more comfortable. He propped his feet on the table and crossed his legs at the ankle.
"Can I ask a question?"
"For you, I am an open book."
She rested her bare feet next to his, and her glittery pink toenails sparkled, as they reflected the lights from the tree. They were so small, he thought, and he could imagine, waking up, every day for the rest of his life, looking down, with those feet in bed next to his.
"I was just wondering," she said, "sometimes, you talk to yourself, and it sounds French—"
"I'm Québécois."
"But I didn’t ask yet."
"I can read your mind," he said, grinning at her.
"Were you raised speaking French?"
"Yes, it's my first language."
"I would have never known," she said.
"French is the official language here."
"But you have no accent."
"My mother was an English teacher and taught me to speak perfect English," he said. "When I was eight, the war here began. She made me practice every day. She would always say that she wanted to prepare me."
"Prepare you?"
"Yes, but trust me," he said, not wanting to go into detail, "it’s a long boring story."
He put his arm around her and pulled her to him. He felt her relax as she scooted closer. He sat mesmerized, as she rested her head on his shoulder, and watched the lights twinkle on the tree. The soft billowy snow silently began to fall outside.
The night was at peace.
"Maybe losing my memory isn't so bad," she said, and entwined her fingers with his.
He closed his eyes and smiled.
A third week passed and Lucien went out again. He knew Grace was afraid when he was gone so he tried to make it quick.
It was one thirty a.m.
"Hello!"
"It's Lucien."
"When are you bringing her home?" Alex said. "I'm tired of waiting"
"It’s almost safe," Lucien replied. "André's men have scattered. I might have a car by the week’s end. We’ll head down then."
"Might?" Alex shouted. "I want her home now!"
"We will leave when it’s safe and not a second sooner!" Lucien snapped and hung up.
Alex handed the phone to Joel and waited. "You got it?"
He logged into his military search tool. "Yeah, I got it," Joel said. "He's telling the truth. He's in Montréal."
"We’ll leave at first light." Alex said.
While Lucien was out, he wanted to shop. After much searching, he finally found a small canned ham and a few other items for a nice meal. He was a good cook and wanted to make a decent dinner for Grace before they left. While on his way back, he passed a street peddler, and picked up something he thought she would love. Looking down at his watch, he was shocked at the time.
It was four a.m. He had been gone all night!
When Lucien returned to the apartment, he found Grace in tears on the sofa. In her trembling hand was the phone he had left her. He dropped his things at the door and was instantly by her side.
"Grace, what's wrong?" he said, as he tenderly stroked her cheek. He took the phone, turned it off, and put it aside.
"You were gone so long," she said with a trembling voice. "I thought something happened to you. I went out to look for you, and there were these men—"
"Did they hurt you?" An intense dread gripped him, and he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.
"No," she said as she trembled in his arms. "I ran."
He brushed the moisture from under her eyes and put his lips to her face. "Never go out," he said quietly against her cheek. "You have to promise me that you’ll never go out again, ok?"
She sniffed and looked up at him, and nodded her head.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long."
He meant only to hold her, and make her feel safe, but he stumbled, and fell into her misty green eyes. She was so close, that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his cheek. Unable to resist any longer, he pulled her closer, and touched his lips to hers. He wove his fingers through her hair, as he had ached to do since the first time he saw her. A passionate groan escaped him when he felt her fingers curl around the back of his neck. The annoying voice inside his head screamed that it was wrong, but his overwhelming desire was consuming. The inner battle of his conscience began.
You are taking advantage of her! She doesn't know what she wants!
Mmm, but I do know what I want.
Her free hand slid to his lower back, and under his shirt. Her fingers trailed lightly up his spine, like feathers on his skin, and made his body tremble without control.
She might hate you for this.
But … I love her.
The kiss deepened and he held her tight against his chest. She felt warm and soft in his arms. A moan of pleasure rumbled through his chest like the purr of a satisfied tiger. He leaned her back on the sofa and took her lower lip gently between his teeth.
"I could eat you alive," he murmured against her soft, moist mouth.
Silenced by passion, the annoying voice inside his head quieted, and he made his decision. He had to have her.
She sighed with pleasure, and closed her eyes when he sucked her lip between his. His roaming lips barely left her skin, as he kicked off his shoes, and ripped off his shirt. He had a sudden, desperate need to touch every inch of her skin, and slid his roving hands up and under her dress. He felt her shudder when he pulled her hips toward him, and rubbed his hard, aching body, against her. He fumbled with his belt, as she drew in a breath, and exhaled a murmur in his ear. It was soft, it was a whisper, and it was a name.
But it was not his name.
The ugly reminder splashed over him, and cooled him like a sea of arctic frost. He reluctantly pulled away. "Please forgive me," he said. He stood and gathered the items from the floor without further explanation.
The following evening, dinner was a welcome change from their usual canned beans and frozen dinners.
"Thank you for dinner! It was so good!" Grace said and leaned back and rubbed her stomach.
"You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said as he smiled and chalked one up for his superb culinary skills. "Would you like some wine?"
"Yes, please, that sounds perfect," she said. "I can't resist a glass of good sweet wine."
At ease, they stretched out and relaxed together for a while, quietly enjoying the twinkling lights on the tree, until Lucien broke the silence.
"I'll have a car ready in six days," he said. "I'll be taking you home."
Her expression was not one of excitement. "I'm nervous," she said. She looked down and slid her finger in circles around the top edge of her glass.
"There's nothing to be nervous about, ma petite," he said. "You don't remember them, but they remember you. They love you and you'll be home safe." He put his arm around her. "You should relax … everything will be ok." He brushed the hair away from her eyes and gave her a reassuring smile. "Oh, I have something for you. I know it isn't Christmas yet but I may not get another chance." He leaned back and dug in hi
s pocket.
"But I didn't get you anything," she said.
"You, little one, are my gift." He pulled out a box and lifted the bracelet from inside.
She gasped and put her hand to her mouth, "It's beautiful!"
He took her arm and carefully clasped it around her wrist. He wanted the meaning to be clear. At first glance, it looked like a straightforward herringbone bracelet, but on closer inspection, the words "I love you" were woven into the gold chain.
"Thank you," she whispered.
She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, but when she released him, he couldn’t let go. Instead of pulling away, she cuddled closer in his arms and laid her cheek on his chest.
Lucien was stalling on purpose. He could have taken her home right away, but if the question arose, what could he say? He didn’t want to. His selfish, criminal thoughts crept in. Why did he have to take her home? He could take her further northwest, into Ontario, and with Montcalm’s help, they could disappear. He wanted to keep her forever, but if her memory returned, he would be no better than a common kidnapper. What did that matter? It would not be the first time. Montcalm’s words kept repeating in his head, "If you want it, take it." He had five days to change his mind but if his thoughts continued on their current path, he would have to prepare.
Ontario was going to be cold.
Twenty-four hours was a long drive. Alex cracked his knuckles every few miles and stared silent, and unblinking, into the crisp December sunshine. His eyes followed the changing scenery as it slowly transformed, from dead winter grass and skeletal trees, into dirty, trash-filled snow, banked high, along the sides of the highway. Unmindful of the snow, traffic whizzed past, like a spring day on the Bonneville Salt Flats. Off the edge of the road, a man stood, purple faced and irate, screaming into his phone, while his bright red sports car sat broadside, against a snow bank.
"Take it easy Matt," Joel said, "people are driving like maniacs."
Joel was bored at home while on leave, and begged to come along. Matt insisted he was an excellent marksman, and Alex agreed. They could use the extra help.
Lydia had been more difficult in the days prior to their leaving.
"I'm coming! She's my best friend!"
"No, you're not!" Matt said.
"But I can shoot and fight as good as any man, and you know it!"
"That’s not the point," Matt said. "If something happened—if you fell into the wrong hands and were outnumbered—the things they do to women. The thought of it makes me sick."
"But, that won't happen!"
"It can happen! I’ve been there! I've seen it with my own eyes!" he said. "There’s no way I will put you in that type of danger. No way!"
"But—"
"No!"
She was angry, but she would get over it.
Matt also refused to let Alex drive, in fear of the havoc that he would, no doubt, create on the road. Alex had nearly lost his mind. The last call he received sent him to the edge of his already questionable sanity. Up until then, he thought she was safe but now, he was terrified.
The unknown call came in at four fifteen a.m. on the same night of his last contact with Lucien.
Almost three hours later, his phone buzzed again.
Groggy, he answered, "Hello?"
He heard crying.
"Grace?" he said. "Is that you?"
The crying continued, until he heard the muffled voice of a man in the background.
"Grace!" he shouted, but the phone disconnected. He re-dialed the number but got nothing. Yelling for Matt and Joel, he threw on his clothes.
"We’re leaving now!"
The calls from Lucien traced to a coffee shop in the center of Old Montréal. The last call, from the unknown source, pinpointed an apartment building nearby. Two days slid by as they hid out of sight. Matt and Joel slept during the day and searched for Lucien at night, but Alex never once closed his eyes.
They had almost given up hope when Matt spotted Lucien exiting a rundown coffee shop. Not wanting to alert him, Matt followed like a specter to a nearby one-story apartment building. The trace was right on target. He concealed himself next to the main entrance and watched through the glass after Lucien went inside. He made note of the apartment number that he entered, and silently slid back into the blackened night. They would wait until first light.
******
Chapter 24 Taken Back
With one swift kick, the oak door splintered and burst open. Lucien was grabbed by the back of the neck and slammed against the wall. Matt held him secure, with his face forced against the rough plaster, and a gun digging a divot into the back of his head.
"Lucien!" Grace screamed. "What are you doing to him?"
"Grace, it's me, Alex," he said. He took a step toward her but she backed away.
"Stay away from me! I don't know you!" she said. "Please! Let him go!" Panic took hold and she dropped to her knees, and buried her face in her hands.
"Look at what you're doing to her! Have you lost your mind?" Lucien yelled from against the wall.
Alex had no idea it was this bad. This was not his intention. "Let him go," he said between gritted teeth.
Lucien went to Grace the instant Matt released him, and sank to his knees in front of her. He took her hands and leaned close. "It's ok, they’re not here to hurt you." His voice was calm, and he spoke quietly in an attempt to soothe, and quiet her fear.
"What do they want? Who are they?" she stopped to catch her breath. "I don't even know who I am …." her voice broke, and she continued to cry, "but you’re the only person that I do know, and I'm afraid, Lucien. Are they going to take you away? What's happening? You can't leave me."
Her voice was barely a whisper, but her words screamed louder than anything Alex had ever heard.
"I told you," he said, and touched her face tenderly. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you. I promised, remember?"
Still crying but not looking up, she nodded her head in response.
Alex did not expect this. He expected her to fall into his arms, and he would hold her tight, and reassure her that it would all be ok. He never imagined that she would be afraid of him, of all people. He could not get a hold of his emotions. He felt like some thug, and stood and watched, while another man comforted the woman he loved. Not knowing what else to do, he turned, and left the room. Matt started after him but Joel caught his arm.
"Let him go," he said. "I think he might need a little space."
"Shut the door!" Lucien snapped from across the room. "You've called enough attention to us as it is!" He stood and helped Grace to her feet. He sat with her on the sofa and held her secure and close in his arms. The second he felt she had calmed, he stood, glared at Matt, and stormed out of the apartment to find Alex.
Lucien was furious.
"What is wrong with you?" he said between clenched teeth, when he found Alex pacing in the hall. "I have just barely gotten her to trust me, and you kick the door down and scare her to death! She’s frightened enough as it is! I was taking her home this weekend and you knew it!"
They stood eye-to-eye, amber clashing with blue, while Alex's hand twitched dangerously over the loaded gun at his side.
"You took too long." His voice was thick and low, his neck veins bulged, and a snarl pulled back his lips. "Again, I ask, what makes you think I should trust you?" Alex leaned in so close that Lucien was forced to take a step back.
"I’m the one who protected her!" Lucien snapped. He could tell that his low blow stung. "Unlike your so-called protection, I told you he was coming! I told you! Tabernak!" he yelled, and slammed his fist against the thick plaster wall. "And still, you—didn’t—listen!"
"And you call yourself protection?" Alex bellowed at the blistering insult. "You’re the low-life who abducted her the first time!" He ripped out his gun and jammed it under Lucien’s chin. "And if I find out you've touched her," Alex said in a low hiss, "you're a dead man."
Lucien swallowed hard. He was no wim
p, but he knew the seriousness of this man. He was big and intimidating, and had killed three of Montcalm's best men without a sound. He was certain that he would kill him too without hesitation.
"And what kind of scum bag do you think I am?" Lucien asked, as if he were innocent. "How could I possibly touch a woman, who doesn't even know her own name?"
"Oh, how noble of you," Alex said with a sarcastic sneer.
He lowered his gun, and Lucien turned, and stormed back inside with Alex right on his heels.
Hearing the argument of the men outside Joel attempted to lighten the mood. "I don't know what those two are fighting about out there," he said, and flopped down next to Grace and put his feet up on the table. "I'm the one they have to worry about," he said. He pulled up his sleeve and flexed his muscle. "After a couple more months in the military, you won't even know they existed. It'll be all me, baby!" he said and kissed the muscle on his arm.
Matt chuckled from the corner of the room. A passing smile touched Grace’s lips as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve and sniffed.
"But seriously, is it true that you can’t remember anything?" Joel asked.
Grace nodded.
"Well," he said, and took a loud gulp of air and groaned. "I guess I’ll have to be the one to fill you in."
"Is it bad?"
"Well." He smiled in mischief. "You know—you and I had a thing once."
"We did? What kind of a thing?"
"It was serious," he said. "We were an item. You were obsessed with me, I mean totally in love." He stretched and rubbed his abs, "I guess I would be too, if I were you."
"Joel!" Matt said from the corner.
"What?"
"Are you sure?" Grace asked with suspicion in her voice.
"Oh yea, it’s true," he said, "but … I joined the military and we had to break it off. You were devastated."
