She moved slowly, deliberating each word he’d said. Placing the phone down, she turned. “How do you know about the money?”
“Ms. Miles, I know much more than you’d think. I’ll explain it more once we’re gone.”
Suddenly, she walked briskly toward her bedroom. When Phil heard the door shut, he shook his head and followed. Though it was locked, the small key-like object rested predictably above the jamb. Entering the room, he found Patricia trying unsuccessfully to open the window. “It’s an old house,” he said calmly. “The windows have been painted too many times. Don’t be stupid. I’m not alone. Get the cash, some shoes, and a jacket.” He looked at his watch. “You now have one minute.”
“I’m not getting my money. If you’re going to kill me anyway, I’m not giving you my cash.”
“Fifty seconds, and I assure you, I don’t want or need your money. You will. Get it now.”
With ten seconds to spare, they stepped from the side door into the night air. “Lock the house,” Phil demanded.
She looked at him with the unspoken questions.
“It needs to look as if you’ve disappeared of your own volition. Locking the door is something you always do.”
Nodding, she placed the key in the lock; however, as she started to move toward the carport, Phil reached for her elbow and redirected her toward the driveway. “No, Ms. Miles, we have a ride.”
Taylor’s hand rested upon Phil’s shoulder pulling him from his thoughts and causing him to jump. As he turned he expected to see anger in her blue eyes; instead, it was sadness.
“Tell me. You need to talk.”
“Ms. Walters, I assure you—”
Taylor leaned back against the desk. “Don’t. I’m not asking you because I feel left out. I’m asking you because I see the anguish. I see you rubbing your neck and rolling your head from side to side. I’ve seen the way you watch the cameras and front gate. I know you come in here in the middle of the night and review footage.”
Phil started to protest. She had no right to spy on him. Yet before he could articulate the proper response, she continued talking.
“I know you take this job and this family personally.” Leaning forward, she said, “I get it. I know about your family.”
Phil’s shoulders snapped back. “I don’t have a family.”
“You’ve called the Rawlingses your family more than once. I know about your blood family.”
“Don’t!” His volume rose as he sprung from his chair. “Forget whatever you think you know. My private life isn’t open for discussion.”
Taylor stood taller. “We all get into this line of work for different reasons. I understand that you weren’t there for them.” She reached out and touched his chest. The warmth of her fingers radiated through the material, scorching his skin below. When Phil stepped back, Taylor went on, “You were thousands of miles away on a godforsaken tour.”
“Korea,” he said, swallowing any emotion. “I was stationed in South Korea. The eighties were a turbulent time. Kim Jong II was in power in North Korea; the tension was building between North Korea and the rest of the world. There were problems with Gorbachev…”
“You were a kid, in your twenties.”
Phil nodded. “I was supposed to go home. My father had this gun shop… But I got an offer to re-up. I never went home.”
Taylor nodded. “I know, and they died while you were away.”
“They didn’t die. They were murdered in their sleep by a kid who wanted to rob the store. The asshole had tried to rob it once before and only spent one night in jail. He used my father’s own gun to shoot them.” He shook his head. “My parents lived in an apartment above the shop.”
Why had he just said all of that? He hadn’t thought about that, not consciously, in years—decades. Taylor reached for his hand. He looked down at the foreign connection, thinking how warm and soft her skin felt against his.
“You weren’t there.” Her voice was soft yet strong. “But you are here. Whatever happened in Olivia, you’re here. That’s what matters. The Rawlingses don’t live above a gun shop. No one’s getting near them. You’ve done everything to protect them.”
He pulled his hand away. The pain in his chest was unbearable. This was shit. He’d done better as the assassin. It was business. This feeling shit was painful. “No! I didn’t. I could’ve done everything, but I didn’t.”
“What? What do you mean?”
Phil stepped away, pacing about the small office. “I could have. Eric would’ve supported my decision either way. Don’t you get it?”
“No, I don’t.”
“She was honest. I asked her about Nichol and she was honest. She could’ve lied. If she had…” He pinched the brow of his nose. “…that’s what I told myself, if she lied…”
Taylor moved to her desk and sat. “Help me, Phil. I can’t follow what you’re saying.”
He stopped pacing and turned. “I asked her what her plans were for Nichol. She admitted that she planned to take her.”
Taylor’s chest moved up and down with deep breaths. “You were doing your job.”
“Stop!” He couldn’t remember ever feeling so out of control. “I didn’t. If I had I wouldn’t be watching the damn monitors all night long. But… she was honest. That was the deal.”
“Phil?”
The golden flecks in his hazel eyes shimmered with moisture.
“Please tell me.”
He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Patricia’s out of the country. She has been for over two weeks. I haven’t heard from her and obviously, neither has the FBI. I gave her another chance.”
Taylor’s lips formed a straight line. “So you didn’t…”
“I should have.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “I’d planned to, but she wasn’t delusional. She wasn’t crazy. She was just hell-bent on revenge. I sound so fucking soft.” He fell down onto the sofa. “If anyone in this crazy world deserved revenge, it would be Claire. Yet she’s never tried to get it. Hell, she forgave Rawlings. I just thought if Claire talked to Patricia—which I don’t want her to do—she’d see that Patricia didn’t really want Nichol. She wanted Claire to hurt for hurting her.
“This whole thing is so fucked up. Claire didn’t hurt her. Patricia had her sights set on something that would never be. Instead of dwelling on it, and giving up her life and her freedom, I convinced her to leave. I told her to get away before the FBI figured it out. This was her last chance to have a life. We gave her an additional installment on her severance package and provided her with new identification. We explained that she was on her own.
We also warned her. We’d found her once. If she ever came near them or even so much as sent another card, I promised that I’d hunt her down.”
Finally, he made himself meet Taylor’s blue gaze. She feigned a smile. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked. “Admitting that I’ve gone soft and if something happens to anyone in this family it’s my fault?”
She shook her head as her smile became real. Why was she smiling? “No,” she replied. “For showing that you care and that you want to do what’s right. From all that I’ve learned, this family seems to have been consumed with vengeance. You had the chance to continue that, and you didn’t.”
“She didn’t have a plan. If she had… if she’d lied… but she didn’t.”
“We’ll help. You know that, don’t you? Eric and I want the same thing you do. I didn’t take this job for the money or even the glamorous hours.” Her cheeks rose as she found amusement in her own statement.
Despite his mood, Phil grinned too, because though the pay wasn’t bad, the hours definitely sucked. “I took this job,” she continued, “because I wanted to find a place to make a life. I saw the devotion both you and Eric had. I wanted that. I wanted to feel strongly, and I do. I don’t think that making the decision not to kill someone is a bad one. It makes me all the more proud to be on your tea
m.”
Phil closed his eyes and sighed. He’d always been the one to carry the load. Whether it was the death of his parents or the lives he’d taken, it had always been on him and him alone. He’d never considered sharing. The couch shifted as Taylor sat beside him. He looked her direction. “I’m not sure what made me tell you all of that. I haven’t told anyone the stuff about my family. I haven’t spoken of it in over twenty years.”
Taylor tilted her head. “Sometimes it’s healthy to talk. I hope you know that whatever you tell me is safe with me.”
Before he could respond, Taylor leaned toward him. Suddenly, his decision seemed right. Phil could live with it, because he wasn’t alone. The scent of Taylor’s light perfume filled his senses with hope for a future, for not only the Rawlingses, but for everyone. Maybe he was getting soft, but as her lips neared his, it wasn’t his decision that consumed his thoughts. It was his desire to feel her softness: her lips, a mere whisper away, her hands, how they warmed his skin. And then it happened. Had he moved forward or was it all her? It didn’t matter. Phil’s chest filled with sensations he’d kept buried for too long. He wanted nothing more than to be lost in the sweetness of her kiss.
A man travels the world over in search of what he needs, and returns home to find it.
—George A. Moore
CLAIRE WALKED QUIETLY through the darkened hallways and down the staircase. With Nichol tucked into bed sound asleep, Shannon out for the evening, and Tony not yet back from a business trip, the house was still and peaceful. The serenity gave her strength as she made her way through the living room and outside onto the back patio. Claire smiled as she looked up to the Iowa sky. The black velvet blanket high above glistened with millions of stars shining down like diamonds. As she inhaled the moist, sultry air and listened to the songs of the cicadas, Claire momentarily wondered if Tony could see the same stars from his plane. Did he even notice as he flew home to his family or was he lost in his work?
Despite the late hour, perspiration formed on her skin as she walked toward the pool. Growing up in Indiana, the diversity of Iowa’s weather never surprised Claire, but on days such as this, with the temperature high and humidity oppressive, she reminded herself of the barren landscape of winter. Thoughts of the snow that covered their estate six months earlier helped her welcome and accept the heat. Nearing the beckoning cool water, Claire found herself lost in thoughts and memories. She knew it was her hormones wreaking havoc: her ups and downs were more dramatic. One moment she would laugh and the next she felt like crying. Though Tony worried, Dr. Brown assured them it was all normal.
Tony and her doctors were the only ones who knew about her pregnancy. Other than the dramatic mood swings, it seemed to be going well. So far she hadn’t experienced the bouts of morning sickness that she’d had with Nichol. However, she was only six weeks along and there was still time. With Nichol, she hadn’t even realized that she was pregnant until this time in the pregnancy. With this little one, she knew as soon as she missed her period. Her and Tony’s plans to expand their family were a month ahead of schedule. The doctors had told them to wait until this month to try, and they had—well, except for the one night. A smile came to her lips and her cheeks rose. It certainly seemed that when it came to making babies she and Tony didn’t require months of practice. The fact that she never became pregnant during their first marriage or before was a testament to the insert she’d had implanted.
Leaving her robe on the lounge chair and her sandals beside it, Claire stepped carefully down the pool’s stairs and immersed herself in the tepid water. The goose bumps didn’t register as she remembered that night:
She and Tony were in New York alone. They weren’t really alone. That rarely occurred. Eric had gone with them while Taylor and Phil stayed in Iowa. It was the first time they’d spent a few nights away from Nichol since they’d been reunited as a family, and as much as Claire had looked forward to the time away, she missed their daughter.
Nevertheless, she managed to busy herself with things she used to enjoy: a trip to the spa and time on 5th Avenue. Being the middle of May, the weather was perfect as she walked up and down the New York City streets. It’d been a long time since she’d been to the city, and she enjoyed the contagious energy of its people. The exhilarating vitality rippled through the air, energizing the residents and tourists alike. When thoughts of Rudolf tried to infiltrate her thoughts, Claire would remember that he was still incarcerated and she was safe. Once in a while she’d wonder about the Rawls-Nichols mailings. They hadn’t received any in over a month. Tony told her he didn’t know why they’d stopped, but he was glad they had. Claire wasn’t sure if they’d really stopped or merely taken a break. Either way, the comforting sense of safety added to her euphoria.
Claire had forgotten the invigorating rush of Times Square and the serenity of Central Park. As hours passed, she found herself lost in her own therapeutic and rejuvenating world. Now that she was a mother and their lives involved numerous people and responsibilities, being alone in a crowd seemed like a distant memory. For the life of her, Claire couldn’t remember the last time she’d willingly spent the day by herself. Yet with the sun shining down and a gentle breeze, while walking the streets amidst the throngs of people or sitting on the edge of a fountain in Central Park and listening to the street performers, Claire felt revitalized.
Dr. Brown often asked her to evaluate her feelings, to delve deeper into them. Sitting on that concrete ledge with music in the air, Claire came to an important conclusion. She no longer feared being alone. That didn’t mean that she wanted to be like that all of the time, but she didn’t fear it. There was a time she had. Her life at Everwood and early years with Tony had been a solitary hell. Though it hadn’t been a conscious decision, since leaving Everwood and reuniting with Tony and Nichol, Claire had purposely kept herself occupied with everyone else. Whether it was her immediate family, extended family, friends, or employees, she stayed connected. It was no secret that being alone used to bother her. Hell, it was the weapon that Catherine secretly wielded when she encouraged Claire’s disappearance. The money Catherine offered was all a ploy to isolate Claire yet again. However, years later, surrounded by strangers, she realized she enjoyed being alone. Perhaps she always had. There was nothing to fear in alone time, as long as she also had her loved ones.
Claire recalled the memories of days spent at her lake. Recently she’d gone there with Tony and Nichol. While they’d had a wonderful afternoon, it wasn’t as relaxing and rejuvenating as it used to be. Her lake, the woods, those private times had helped her survive. She realized that it was as necessary in her everyday life as the connections she’d forged. The secret was balance.
During that afternoon, she also realized that if a trip around Manhattan could enlighten her, she didn’t need to spend as much time with Dr. Brown. If life were a balancing act and alone time was part of it, then something needed to give. There were only so many hours in a day, week, or year, and Claire had no intentions of decreasing her time with Tony or Nichol. She also didn’t want to lose time with Emily, Courtney, Meredith, or Sue.
Claire was ready to take on life again. With the effects of the medications gone, she was ready to experience every day to its fullest. That didn’t mean she’d stop all of her counseling. The family court had mandated a minimum of a year as one of the stipulations of Tony and Claire’s regained custody. Everwood had also asked for a year. It wasn’t mandated, but just like the medication, a gradual decrease seemed reasonable.
As Claire walked the paths of the park on her way toward the streets, she recalled the night Tony proposed. A smile materialized as she thought about his words. Though she couldn’t remember them verbatim, she did remember her shock at his declaration. As much as her life changed the day he took her, it also changed the evening he asked her to be his wife. That night opened the floodgate for feelings and emotions she’d been fighting. Though they’d had many ups and downs since that night nearly six and a hal
f years ago, Claire knew the love she felt that night was only a seedling to what she felt today.
Lost in her thoughts, it was after 6:30 by the time Claire made it back to their apartment. With the spring sun, longer days, and constant buzz of people, time had been difficult to decipher. When she reached the foyer of their apartment, Claire had a fleeting vision of the man from her past. A bygone aura reverberated through the entry as dark eyes peered down from the top of the stairs and the deep voice demanded answers. “Where have you been?”
Though the scene may have resembled another time, it varied significantly in Claire’s response. She didn’t fear his question or the consequences of her carelessness. Honestly, she hadn’t thought about his reaction at all until she saw him. Rarely was she late; however, when she was, she usually did her best to keep everyone informed. The day and afternoon hadn’t been about everyone. It’d been about her: rediscovering herself, by herself.
“I’ve been all around the city,” she replied with a smile as she began to ascend the steps.
He met her near the middle. “I’ve called your phone a hundred times.”
Claire kissed his cheek. “I guess I didn’t hear it. I didn’t realize the time until I was in the taxi on the way home.”
“And you couldn’t call?”
“Tony, I was on my way.” Ignoring his darkened gaze, she asked, “Do we have plans?”
Seizing her elbow with his jaws clenched, Tony briskly led her to their suite. Before she could think or register his actions, the door closed and his lips were on hers. This wasn’t the sweet and gentle husband who once again instigated a stir deep inside of her.
No, this was a man on a mission. Roughly, his fingers grasped her hair, pulling her head back and exposing her already claimed mouth. His unspoken hunger unleashed in a frenzy as his tongue demanded entrance and her lips willingly parted. The scent of cologne and the taste of whiskey combined to create an intoxicating cocktail as her lips bruised and her insides melted.