Broken Ties (3 page)

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Authors: Gloria Davidson Marlow

Tags: #Contemporary,Suspense,Action-Suspense

BOOK: Broken Ties
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“Stay here,” he commanded. “I have to pack a bag.”

She closed her eyes as he left the room, and the stranger’s voice whispered through her mind.

Good-bye, Princess.

She felt the large hand close over her mouth as his arm came around her waist, lifting her off her feet. The doll she’d been holding slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor, the sparkle of Christmas lights dancing across its vinyl skin and blond hair.

“Mama!” she tried to scream, but the sound was muffled as he dashed through the door to the car waiting just beyond the drive.

“Wave good-bye, Princess,” he said as he yanked open the back door and shoved her inside the vehicle.

Chapter Three

“No!” Sidra cried, springing upright.

Levi rushed into the room, gun drawn. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized she was safe, but worry filled him as he took in her pallor and the dazed look in her eyes.

“What is it?” he demanded as he holstered the gun.

“It’s happened before.” Shock made her voice low, emotionless, and she stared into the distance.

“What do you mean, it’s happened before? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” Anger surged through him, making his voice gruffer than he intended. His fingers closed over her arms. “I would never have let you walk out alone. I would have protected you, Sidra. Didn’t you know that?”

She shook her head slowly, confusion darkening her eyes, and he cursed long and loud as he leapt to his feet and began to pace the room. Why hadn’t she told him before now? How could she not have known he would do all he could to keep her safe?

“No, Levi. No.” She shook her head again, some color returning to her face. “I think I was a child the first time.”

He stopped mid-stride and stared at her. “You think? What does that mean?”

“It means I’m not sure it actually happened or if I just imagined it.”

“So this is something you just remembered or imagined tonight?”

She nodded, her teeth catching at her bottom lip.

He let out a long breath, trying to focus on this new idea.

“Okay. Well, let’s assume it’s true. How old were you?”

“Young. Maybe five or six years old. I don’t know.”

“How old are you now?”

“Twenty-six?”

He didn’t miss the questioning tone in her voice.

“Are you telling me or asking me?”

“Neither,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I can’t tell you because I don’t know. I wouldn’t ask you because you don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I was discovered alone in the restroom of a rest area on I-95 near Orlando. The woman who found me there took me to the local authorities, but no one ever claimed me, and I spent the rest of my childhood in foster care.”

“What about before then?”

“I don’t remember anything before that.”

“Nothing at all?”

“I remember bits and pieces, things I’m not sure are memories. They might be just wishful thinking.” She smiled ruefully and shook her head. “I’ve always had one particular memory of a pretty brown-haired woman with a wide smile and kind blue eyes. My heart wants to believe she’s my mother, but I’ve never understood how someone who looks so kind and loving could leave her child alone on the side of the road. I have a vague recollection of a bedroom with tiny purple flowers on the wallpaper and a white canopy bed with a ruffled spread. And I think I remember riding a carousel on a brilliant green lawn. I’ve always had a penchant for fairy tales, daydreaming about being someone else, so no one’s ever given much credence to my recollections. Not even me.”

At the wistfulness in her voice, Levi had to fight the urge to pull her into his arms. It broke his heart to imagine a little girl with blond hair and large brown eyes, alone and frightened, tossed aside by parents who didn’t want her.

He and Teddy had grown up in Gulfview, a small town near the Gulf of Mexico, in a drafty Victorian they shared with their parents, younger sister, and spinster aunt. Their paternal grandparents lived in a small farmhouse outside the city limits, and at least a dozen other Tanners were spread through town. He couldn’t imagine growing up with no family at all. Just the past few months of self-imposed exile had nearly killed him.

“I lived in homes all over the state. Some of them were filled with other kids, but in most of them, it was either only me or just one other child. The others always stayed behind when I left, and I never saw them again.”

She was staring at her hands, which were clutched so tightly the knuckles were white, and he felt a sick dread in the pit of his stomach as he wondered just what kind of life she had lived in the homes of strangers. Had she had any stability in her life? Had she ever had anyone who loved her?

“Did you change homes much?” he asked, hoping he was wrong in his suspicions of how alone she had really been.

“I was fifteen when I ran away from one home. It was number thirteen.” She tried to smile, but failed miserably. “Turns out it was as unlucky as you’d expect.”

He couldn’t bring himself to ask her to elaborate, so he focused on the number of homes she’d been in instead.

“Thirteen homes? That couldn’t have given you time to form any kind of bonds with anyone in any of them. Did you ever have anyone constant?”

“Only Carlotta, the woman who took me to and from each new home, and she would check up on me every few months. She would decide if I stayed or left, and more often than not, I left.” She took a shuddering breath before continuing. “She retired the year before I aged out of foster care, but she called me a few times the first few years, just to see how I was doing. She’s in a nursing home now.”

“Did she ever suspect you may have been kidnapped as a child?”

“She never mentioned it, and until now I never considered it.”

“Tell me what makes you think it happened.”

Levi watched her intently as she described what she thought was a memory. Her brandy-colored eyes grew dark with fear and confusion, and he wished he could ease her mind, but he had no idea what to say. No empty platitude or lame assurance was going to make her feel better or heal the pain of the past.

She had worked for him for four years. How could he not have known something so important about her? Part of the reason he was good at his job was his ability to read people, to gauge their sincerity and state of mind. Yet he had never once noticed the hint of sadness that tinged her eyes or the way she hid behind that quiet, reserved grace of hers, using it like a shield to keep him from seeing any flicker of need. He had lost all objectivity the first time she spoke his name in that soft, lilting voice of hers and placed her delicate hand in his. His immediate flicker of attraction had burst into flames, and he had been blinded by his desire and his certain knowledge that she belonged to Teddy.

That had been the first bone of contention between him and his brother, and from there, it had all gone downhill. By the time everything went to hell in a handbasket, Sidra was the only one left, he was half in love with her, and he couldn’t imagine how he would have dealt with all of it without her.

Just like the day he met her and hundreds of days since, all he could think of now was how much he wanted to kiss those soft, full lips.

“Are you even listening to me?” she asked, cocking her head to one side.

Without considering the consequences, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with years of pent-up passion.

****

She had been kissed a time or two in the past, but never so deeply and thoroughly as this. And never had she welcomed a kiss so much. He knew it, too, judging by the low growl that sounded in his throat as he deepened the kiss.

When at last they broke apart, they were both breathless and dazed by the desire that arced between them. Even as she was trying to gather her composure, she felt him pull away from her, saw his eyes darken with remorse.

“Sid, I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that. You’re scared and vulnerable, and I took advantage of it.”

“You’re sorry you kissed me?” She wished she didn’t sound quite so horrified by his words.

“Yes. No. Jeeze, Sid. I’m sorry I kissed you
now
. You were nearly kidnapped tonight. You were knocked out by chloroform. You couldn’t possibly be in your right mind.”

“So you think I kissed you back because my judgment was compromised by my being chloroformed?” She fought to regain a grip on her dignity.

“Yes.”

“I’ve thought about kissing you an awful lot before today.” That admission was proof of just how far gone her mind was at the moment.

“You have?” He sounded like a vulnerable schoolboy, shocked that the object of his crush reciprocated his feelings.

A smile spread across her face, and she nodded.

“Yes. And I’ve never been chloroformed before.”

“But Teddy—”

Frustration bubbled up inside her as the smile slipped from her face. How long was he going to cling to his foolish notion that she and Teddy were more than friends? They had never given him any reason to believe it. Yet, he had never been able to get past his own stupid assumptions that they were lovers. She opened her mouth to tell him just what she thought about his pigheaded refusal to see the truth, but before she could speak, he stood and moved to the kitchen.

He came back moments later with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a can of soda in the other. He set the soda on the end table nearest her and swallowed the whiskey in one gulp.

“None of it matters now,” he said, slamming the glass down on the table and raking a hand through his hair. “We can’t afford a distraction like this.”

“Will we be any less attracted to each other if we ignore it?” She frowned at the empty glass. “Or if you’re drunk?”

“I don’t know. What I do know is that I need to keep all my attention on protecting you from the man who tried to take you. From here on out, we have to control whatever it is we feel for each other. We have to move forward with clear minds. And I’m not drunk.”

“Levi,” she protested, but was silenced when he kissed her again, before pulling her to her feet, taking her bag and leading her downstairs, gun at the ready.

Feeling as if her head were stuffed with fuzz, she leaned back against the headrest in his car and closed her eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he climbed behind the wheel.

“Not really.” She rolled her head to look at him.

He reached for her hand where it lay on the seat between them.

“We’ll find whoever’s behind this, Sid. Don’t worry.”

She wondered if he realized he still said “we” as if he and Teddy continued to work together and nothing had ever come between them. She didn’t mention that as she offered him a half-hearted smile.

“I know,” she assured him. She knew he would try, even if she wasn’t sure he’d be successful.

Except for her directions, they were silent on the way to her house, and she was grateful for the time to think. She had wondered a million times over the years what had driven her parents to leave her at that rest area. Now, for the first time, she wondered if there had been a reason she was there other than them not wanting her. Had they been foreigners? Was that how she knew a language she didn’t remember ever hearing? Had they escaped to America? Had they been illegal? Forced to run from the immigration authorities and leave her behind? Had they been arrested, or deported back to their homeland? Or had she really been kidnapped?

He slowed as they turned onto her road, and she pointed at the two-bedroom postwar home she’d rented three years ago. She frowned at the light in the living room window. She didn’t remember leaving it on, but she’d been in a hurry this morning, running late because she couldn’t find one of her shoes. She must have rushed out as soon as she found it behind the sofa, not even remembering to turn out the light as she scolded Coda on her way out the door.

“Nice place,” Levi said as they walked up the shrub-lined pathway to the carport. “But these shrubs need to come up. Someone could easily hide behind them.”

“Thanks. I like it. And I like the shrubs. They’re staying right where they are. I’d have to get the landlord’s approval before I pulled them up anyway.”

Coda’s whining turned to furious barking as Sidra turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door. What in the world was wrong with the crazy dog? Did she know Levi was here? Did she think Teddy was nearby, too?

Sidra had barely pushed the door open when Coda flew through it, barking up a storm as she launched herself at Levi’s legs. Even in the dim glow of the porch light, Sidra saw Levi’s face pale as he dropped to his knees to pet his brother’s brown-and-white English bulldog.

“He left her with you?” he murmured.

“Mm-hmm.”

She didn’t trust herself to speak as she turned away from Levi’s anguished eyes. It was beyond her understanding how two men who loved each other so much could cause each other so much pain.

She stopped before she entered her house, a gasp escaping her as she saw the mess illuminated by the dim light in the corner.

Chapter Four

Levi was on his feet in an instant, pushing Sidra behind him as he drew his gun and stepped inside. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the upended furniture, stopping at the curio cabinet lying on its side in the corner. Bits of brightly colored fabric stuck up from the broken glass and the paperbacks knocked from the nearby bookshelf.

As he moved from the living room to the kitchen and bedrooms, Sidra followed on his heels, fingers hooked through his belt loop, keeping him from getting too far ahead of her.

The kitchen cabinets hung open and the contents of the drawers had been emptied on the floor. The bedrooms weren’t nearly as bad as the living room, or even the kitchen. Although the drawers had been emptied and their contents scattered about the floor, at least the beds were still made and the furniture was still in its upright position.

The second of the two bedrooms was obviously Sidra’s. The dressing table was covered with cosmetics and perfume bottles, and the bed rumpled as if she’d sat on the side after making it up. His eyes fell on the bedside table, where a romance novel lay open beside the crystal carafe of water and the old-fashioned alarm clock beside it. As she lay in her bed all alone, did she imagine she was the heroine in a novel? Did she long for a man to sweep her off her feet, deposit her on the flowered quilt, and make love to her all night? Would she throw her head back like the cover model’s, letting his mouth close over the throbbing pulse of her throat, or the delicate white skin above the plunging neckline of her soft blue gown? Did his quiet, efficient little secretary lose her sense of propriety when a man touched her like that? Would she have that look of pleasure on her face if it was his dark head bent over her, his breath warming her flesh?

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