False Security (34 page)

It was
impossible.

Maybe Paul was mistaken. Maybe
he was talking about someone else, but not Rachel.

How many people did Paul say she
had killed?

Mark closed his eyes. He thought
of Rachel’s slender fingers, and the ability they had to send electricity
through his body every time she touched him. He found it difficult to believe
those same fingers could pull the trigger of a gun and end the life of another
human being.

But as much as he tried to deny
it, he knew it was true. Everything Paul said was consistent with the Rachel he
knew. The pieces of the puzzle blended and completed the picture. He hated what
he saw and was disgusted by his reaction to it. Something shifted within him,
and for the first time in his life, rage filled him.

Rachel was not the target of his
anger. He told her nothing could change his love for her and he meant it. He
couldn’t hold her responsible. Raised a criminal, she had no chance at a normal
life. She had been manipulated and broken by a man who controlled her with the
slightest jerk of her strings.

Mark couldn’t understand how one
man could have so much influence and control over other people. He thought of
Paul’s seeming inability to interfere and help Rachel. He had been powerless to
do anything but turn his back and ignore her muffled screams. Mark wished he
could travel back in time and rip her out of that world.

And now she was back in it.

He looked up as Paul entered the
room. Paul offered a stressed smile. “You don’t look so good,” he said.

Mark lifted his hand to his
forehead. His eyes glassed over, and exhaustion tugged on every part of his
body. “You just told me the woman I love killed people because that’s what she
was raised to do. How the hell am I supposed to look?”

“I know it’s a lot to sort
through,” Paul said. “I wish I could have told you a different story.”

Mark thought the tension in his
neck would snap his spine in two. He snaked a hand around the back of his neck
and rubbed his muscles. The memory of touching Rachel’s scarred back flashed
through his mind and his eyes flew open at the image. “She has scars on her
back,” he said, not knowing where the words came from. “I don’t think she knew
they were there until I asked her about them.”

Paul crossed his arms. “She
probably did know, but didn’t want to, so she never checked. I lied and told
her she wouldn’t have any scars. I thought it might help her heal emotionally
if she didn’t think she would have them forever.”

He lifted his gaze to Paul and
stared at him through red eyes. “Help her?” he asked. “You thought it would
help her? You didn’t stop him.”

“If I had known what he was
going to do,” Paul said, “I’d have killed him and buried him next to Eric.”

Anger boiled in Mark’s gut. “But
you knew he was hurting her when he was doing it. You may not have known to
what degree, but you said you could hear her scream while he—”

Paul didn’t let him finish. “And
don’t you think it eats me alive every time I think about it? I hate him for
what he did to her. I hate myself for not doing anything about it.”

“Then why didn’t you stop him?
She’s your niece, your own blood! You could have stopped him.”

“And get us both killed? Or
worse yet, get myself killed and leave no one for Rachel?”

“She might as well have had no
one. I mean, what good did you do her?” Mark asked. “You were in a position to
help her all those years and you didn’t.”

“If I could go back and do
things different, then I would without hesitation.”

“That didn’t help her then and
it’s not helping her now. It never should have gotten to that point. You should
have gotten her out when you saw what was happening.”

“I know, Mark. I know how wrong
I was.”

“You’re more than wrong,” Mark
said, his voice filled with contempt. “You’re as guilty as he is.”

Paul tightened his lips and
looked away. “You’re right. I have no defense. I didn’t tell you about her life
because I’m seeking forgiveness for what I’ve done wrong. I don’t deserve that
in the least, not from God, not from her, and not from you or anyone else who
cares about her. But I also didn’t come in here to try and defend myself. I’ve
sent Sean out on an errand. We only have about ten minutes, but I can sneak you
in to see her, if you want.”

Mark snapped to attention. “Of
course I do.” He followed Paul down a long, narrow hallway and around a corner.

Paul stopped in front of a white
door and faced Mark. “I haven’t seen her yet, so be prepared for anything.” He
pushed open the door.

Mark looked down and ran a hand
through his hair. His mind and body were both spent. He wasn’t sure how much
more he could handle, but he forced himself to move into her room.

Rachel’s eyes were closed, her
body tucked under a white comforter with random splashes of red on it.
Swelling, cuts, and bruises interrupted the serenity of her face. Her shallow,
irregular breathing troubled Mark almost as much as the blood on the floor and
on the blanket that covered her. His throat tightened and his hand reached for
his hollowed-out stomach.

At Paul’s prompting, Mark stood
away from the bed, next to the door. Paul sat on the bed beside her and
uncovered her halfway. She stirred into consciousness. “Rachel? Come on, it’s
time to wake up.”

She moaned and her eyelids rose
to half-mast. “Paul?”

He smiled. “I’m here. Are you
feeling okay?”

“I’m so tired,” she whispered.
She grimaced, and rubbed her eyes.

“Why are you tired, honey?”

“The needles.”

“He drugged you?” Paul swore
under his breath. “How much did he give you?”

Rachel’s eyelids fell shut
again. “I wanna go back to sleep,” she mumbled.

“You need to stay awake for a
little bit. Can you do that for me?”

She gave him a weak smile. “Did
you miss me, old man?”

“Not enough for you to be back
here. You know you almost killed Joe when you left.”

“Is that why he’s so mad at me?”

“I imagine that would do it.”

“Who’s the guy with the
moustache?” Rachel asked.

“Sean. He’s a real shady private
investigator. Donovan brought him on to find you.”

“Should’ve seen that one coming.
There was a cop, back in Wichita. I can’t remember her name.”

“Officer Shelly Duncan,” Paul
said. “She worked for Wilkes and called in when she saw you.”

“I thought something was off
with her.”

“Sit up, Rach.” He took her arm
and eased her into a sitting position.

She shifted a couple times, her
eyes lowered to the blanket. Her fingers reached for her mouth and she pushed
on the swelling on the side of her mouth. Her tongue ran over the split in her
bottom lip. Mark’s heart ached as he wondered how many times in the past she
had tasted her own blood.

Rachel raised her head and her
eyes fell on Mark for the first time. Her surprised expression hardened. “What
are you doing here?”

Mark started toward her.
“Rachel—”

“Stop.” She looked at Paul.
“What is he doing here?”

“Donovan is holding him here,”
Paul said. “I brought him in here to see you. He needed to see that you’re
alive.”

“Get him out of here, off the
estate.”

“I’m going to get you both out
of here tonight. For good.”

“No. I’m not going anywhere.”

Mark’s brow knitted and he
stepped forward to the bed. “Rachel, you can’t stay here. You need to come with
me.”

“I don’t need to do anything.
I’m staying here.”

Anger rose inside Mark. “What
are you saying? Why would you want to stay here?”

“Paul will get you out of here,”
she said. “You don’t belong here.”

“Neither do you!”

“Yes, I do. This is my home.”

“Rachel,” Paul said, “you both
need to leave. I’m not letting you stay here any longer.”

“No,” she said. “I’m tired,
Paul. I’m not running anymore.”

Mark looked at Paul to intervene
further, but Paul remained silent. He turned back to Rachel. “You have to come
with me. I’m not leaving here without you.”

She dropped her head and stared
at her hands twisting in her lap.

“Please, Rachel,” he said. “I
love you.”

“I’m sorry, Mark,” she said,
lifting her eyes, “but I don’t love you.”

Her words paralyzed him with a
greater sting than he could have ever imagined. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s simple. I’m staying here,
with Donovan. I love him. I should have never left to begin with. This is where
I belong.”

Mark searched her face, but
found it impossible to read her expression. “How can you say that? Have you
seen yourself? Your face is bruised and swollen. He did that to you, and he’s
done far worse in the past.”

“I screwed up, okay? I stole a
lot of money from him and then I took off. It’s my fault—”

“Is what he did to your back
your fault also? I’ve seen the scars, Rachel, remember? He used a whip on you.
He tore your skin open, dozens of times. You can’t possibly think that you did
anything worthy of that kind of abuse.”

Rachel’s eyes avoided Mark, and
she stumbled over her words. “I deserved all of it. I made a lot of mistakes.
I’m lucky I’m not dead.”

“Yeah, well, Danielle wasn’t so
lucky. Did she deserve to be shot like she was nothing?”

Rachel stared at him. “What do
you mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.
Donovan had her killed. She died right next to me. She died protecting you.”

Her hand shook as it moved to
her mouth, and tears fell from her weary eyes.

Mark kneeled beside the bed. He
looked up at Rachel, finding her eyes. “I’m not sure what’s going on here, but
I know that you aren’t yourself. I don’t know if it’s the drugs he gave you or
what, but you don’t mean any of what you’re saying. You can’t love him, not
after what he’s done to Danielle and to you. And I know you love me. I know you
do, the same as I love you. There’s no doubt in my mind.”

“You don’t get it. You have no
understanding of what this place is or what is going on. You don’t even know
who I am so there’s no way you can love me.”

“I do know who you are, Rachel,”
Mark said. “I know and I love you, even more than before. Nothing will change
that for me, ever.”

“I don’t love you, Mark. I made
a mistake, and I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to leave without me. I love
Donovan. I belong to him, I always have, and I am not leaving him again.”

Mark pushed himself up from the
floor and away from the bed. She spoke as if she had been brainwashed. He
didn’t know if her words were true, and he failed to understand the change in
her. The shell in front of him was nothing like the strong woman he loved.
Although he knew that part of her had to be in there somewhere, he didn’t know
how to reach her.

“Can you get him out tonight?”
Rachel asked Paul.

“Yes, I can,” Paul said. “Are
you sure you don’t want me to get you out as well?”

“I’m sure.”

Mark couldn’t look at her. He
knew what they had was real, knew without hesitation that they loved each
other, but he didn’t know how to combat the influence that controlled her.

Rachel’s eyes started closing
again, while her complexion drained of color. “I’m so tired.”

“I know you are. Lie back down
and close your eyes.” She slipped down into the bed, and Paul covered her with
the blanket.

“Wait.” She grabbed his arm. “I
have to know something. Who did he send to kill Jonathan?”

“Me. I made sure it was quick.”

“Thank you for not letting him
suffer,” she whispered.

“Before he died, he asked me if
his angel was free.”

She smiled and let go of Paul’s
arm. She glanced at Mark and said, “Paul, please get him out. He shouldn’t be
in this house.”

Mark crossed his arms. She
didn’t belong here any more than he did, yet she refused to leave. Her voice
sounded convinced that she needed to stay, that everything Donovan did to her
was justified.

Paul came up beside him, and
they walked back to the Mark’s room. Closing the door, Paul said, “I need to
leave you alone for a bit so I can work on getting you out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere without
her.”

“You have no choice. She isn’t
leaving.”

“Then I’m not leaving either.”

“I get that you want to help
her, but you don’t appreciate the severity of the situation. Donovan fully
intends on killing you due to your relationship with Rachel. If you stay here,
you will die, just as Thomas died, except this time I won’t have the control to
make it quick and painless.”

Paul’s firm words broke through
Mark’s stubbornness, but he still had no intention of leaving Rachel behind. “I
understand all that, but why didn’t he kill me back in Kansas, when he killed
Danielle? Why bring me here at all?”

“I stopped speculating about
Donovan’s motives for anything he does a long time ago, but you’re a threat to
Donovan. No matter what he’s done, he does love Rachel and the knowledge that
she ever gave you a second glance tears him up inside. He can’t stand the
thought that you might have meant anything to her and he can’t risk that she
would still have feelings for you. He needs to eliminate any and all
competition.”

“I can’t leave her here so she
can suffer even more than she already has,” Mark said. “He’s going to end up
killing her one of these days. I can’t sit back and let that happen.”

“Do I need to describe to you
how Eric died? It was the slowest, most painful death I’ve ever seen and it was
all Donovan. The only thing I did was put the bullet in his head that ended his
agony.”

Paul’s words should have scared
him, but instead Mark mulled over what Paul had told him about Eric. “Did it
feel good?”