Only in Her Dreams (12 page)

Flynn and his man returned quickly.

“Why don’t both of you join me for a walk. We have much to discuss before the flight back to the States,” Darius addressed the couple.

Dr. Adams surveyed the desolate surroundings. “We’d rather talk here.”

“Come now. Sandy, is it? I need to stretch my legs.” Next, Darius addressed his men. “We’ll meet you back here in fifteen minutes.”

Lance rolled his head and shoulders in anticipation. “Can I come?”

“No, you’ll all wait here.”

In the waning heat, Darius led the couple through the brush. Flynn spoke before Darius had a chance to start. “We know you’re not from the CIA”. His face emotionless. He waited for a response.

Darius was pleased with the way the man was handling the situation--no more lies, no more games. It wasn’t his intent to mislead people into a false security. He liked his prey to know what was coming.

He paced alongside the couple, his feet landing with confidence, choosing his words carefully. He still had the task of convincing Flynn to join his men, although it might be easier to persuade him now that Dr. Adams insisted on coming along for the adventure. He was sure Flynn wouldn’t want anything unpleasant to happen to her.

“You’re correct in your assumption, Dr. Flynn. My men and I aren’t affiliated with the CIA, but we are here to fulfill another mission.” His voice carried a non-threatening tone.

“What mission is that?” Dr. Adams voice was hesitant with her question.

“I’m afraid that you weren’t part of the original plan, but your presence may yet prove useful.”

“I don’t understand…”

“You see, I’m in need of Greg’s help to convince someone from his past to assist me.” Hands clasped behind his back, Darius hoped to give off the impression of a military man, speaking with another high ranking official.

“I’ve cut ties with my past. They all think I’m dead. I can’t help you.”

In the next instant Flynn ran, his feet carrying him in the opposite direction of the jeep and the Melas Oneiroi waiting.

Darius took two long strides and leaped on the fleeing man.
He spun Flynn around and began pounding his fist into the man’s face. The thump his fist made as it connected with cheek and nasal bone soothed a part of Darius that he hadn’t realized needed soothing. He visualized his eldest brother’s face on the man. His punches became more violent. The warm splatter of blood hit his face. His vision tinted red.

Something caught the corner of his eye. Adams slipped through the brush.

He dropped the beaten Flynn to the ground and took off after her. She may be the only way to get Flynn to cooperate. The woman disappeared in the high brush. The clay earth left no depression from her footsteps.

He’d be forced to track her. This wasn’t the first time he’d stalked a woman, let his blood blaze through his veins, his every sense on high alert. He hoped this turned out better.

Darius stood motionless, listening for footsteps on the hard packed ground or the rustling of dry brush. The only thing he heard was the rowdy noise of his men in the distance and the gurgling sound of Flynn struggling for breath. His feet moved swiftly across the ground in the direction Sandy had headed. The thrill of the hunt was on.

His nostrils flared with determination and concentration. Every nerve in his body hummed. If he didn’t find her soon, she’d likely meet an unpleasant fate. The Gabon viper, black mamba, and cobra roamed the area. The sight would be better than him physically cutting off her air supply himself. Her skin would turn red and swollen, there would be bleeding. She wouldn’t have the energy to fight as lethargy set in--leading to certain kidney failure, severe tachycardia, and ultimately respiratory failure.

As a doctor of medicine, Sandy would know her fate as each stage of deterioration hit. His blood pressure rose, the flow to his lower regions increased.
Only a sick bastard like me viewed a snake bite as erotic.
He fought to control his breathing while aroused to better hear her. As he moved further into the brush he could no longer hear the rasping of Flynn’s labored breathing.

He hoped the man hadn’t expired, thwarting his plan to use him.
That’d be fucking perfect. I can imagine how the convo would go, ‘Yeah, Dark One...you heard me right. I beat the fucker to death. Now, hand over my kingdom.’ Not fucking likely!

His men were also silent.

A flash of blue moved between two bushes. The woman crawled about ten yards from him, making her way back to Flynn. There was no need to hurry. Her path was clear, she would return to her lover. But would Flynn have returned for her?
He couldn’t help but wonder.

He wanted them both in one place; let her think she’d outsmarted him. He proceeded to make an arcing sweep away from the woman’s path, making his own way back to Flynn.

# # #

The pain was like nothing Greg had ever experienced. Blood poured from his nose; and from his impaired vision, he suspected also from his left eye. With great effort, he shifted his position so his hand was free. It moved slowly toward his face, pain shooting through his shoulder and up his neck at the movement. Finally, his fingers reached his face. Where his cheek bone should have been was an indention the size of a large fist, his face had been hit so hard it had caved in. He hoped his inspection proved wrong.

His heart seized, not for his own safety, but for Sandy’s. Listening, he realized he was alone, lying in the African desert under a setting sun.

Is Sandy still alive? Had they hurt her? Who were these guys?

It had been a mistake to leave with them, but Sandy had thought it was safe. What was the worst that could happen, she whispered as they packed their travel bags. The worst, at the moment, was the possibility that his wife would find out his deception, that he was still alive and living with another woman.

He lay beaten and bloody in the desert. To be back in the States, confronting Lucessa and her Italian temper seemed like heaven at the moment. The plan Sandy and he had spent days concocting was backfiring on them. No one would look for him, he was dead. The staff at the clinic would wonder, but they’d been told Dr. Adams and he had left in the company of CIA agents. Bound for America.
Would anyone question our disappearance?
Sandy’s family flew in next month, but by then all traces of their existence would be gone, scavenged by the starving wildlife in the area.

“Greg...darling?” The whisper was low but close. He turned his head in that direction, agony coursed down his spine. “Don’t move.”

Sandy’s voice beside him spurred hope inside him, but then the thought of her beaten and bruised next to him was enough to send him crashing back to reality.

“How bad are your injuries?” she asked.

He didn’t know how to answer her question without moving his extremities to find out if they were in working order. “My face is badly beaten. I’m not sure about the rest of me. Are you okay?” he said.

“I’m fine. I ran when he started hitting you and I circled back. He’s still out looking for me. Can you crawl? I think that’s the only way we can escape, there’s not much coverage.”

“I think so,” he said. His answer echoed through his head as if he’d shouted. The ringing in his ears hadn’t stopped yet and he felt a headache coming.

“Don’t move a fucking inch,” the chilling voice demanded.

Greg turned his head, the man stood ten feet away, it’d be impossible to hear their whispers that far away.

“What do you want? Money?” Greg was in panic mode and survival, was the only thing on his mind. “We’ll do anything--give you anything--just let us go.”

“Yes, I do want something from you.” The man moved in Greg’s direction. “You’ll travel to California and bring Lucessa to me.”

“But...I can’t do that! She thinks I am dead.”

“You will be dead if you don’t do as I say.”

“How am I supposed to get there? I don’t have a passport or identification.”
Am I actually thinking about doing this?
He would do anything to get away, without any more injuries.

“My men will get you into the United States. After that, it’s up to you to bring her to me.”

His mind raced. Greg figured that once he was in the United States, he and Sandy could disappear. Just as he’d done in Uganda. The men would never find him, they’d stay away from anything familiar.

“As insurance, I’ll keep Dr. Adams with me,” Darius continued.

Chapter 17

Maxim started to worry an hour ago.

Where is she?

Lucessa got off work at four o’clock and wasn’t scheduled at the coffee shop today. It was almost six o’clock now and his anxiety increased. He’d damn near paced a hole in the carpet. Goosey followed him as he walked back and forth. Hell, he’d started mentally mapping a search grid between her work, the house and his brother’s hellhole.

He’d be able to cover the area in about two hours.

As he went through his search plan, the phone rang. Rushing from the living room to the kitchen, he located the cordless phone, pushed the green ‘talk’ button and he put the receiver to his ear. “Hello.”

“Maxim?”

“Lucessa, where are you?” His words came out with more force than he’d intended.

She paused on the other end. For a moment, all he could hear was breathing and he feared he’d been overly demanding.

She didn’t belong to him. She had her own life to live.

“It’s Wednesday. I always visit my mother on Wednesday,” she said, breaking her silence. “I’m calling to see if you want me to bring dinner home.”

Maxim regretted raising his voice. He’d never given a thought to Guy’s wife. He knew Lucessa cared about her mom deeply because she was present in many of her dreams, but he didn’t know where the woman was.

Lucessa had asked for none of this, and now she seemed to be grasping at any semblance of normalcy. All of this fed Maxim’s unease.

“I’m sorry. I have been worried, that is all. Yes, I would enjoy something for dinner.” The awkwardness of the morning disappeared, with his worry at her casual offer of sustenance.

“What do you like?”

What do I like?
He’d never given it much thought. He ate what was prepared for him. After so many years the staff knew Guy’s favorite dishes and no preference was given to him or his brother.

“Anything will do. Pick your favorite food, I’m sure it will be delicious.”

“Okay, I’ll be home soon.”

He would see her soon and he doubted he’d be able to let her out of his sight again.

# # #

Lucessa walked in the door fifteen minutes later, taco truck burritos in hand. They were her favorite, but she always felt guilty buying them for only herself. It was great to have someone to eat with, someone waiting for her at home, someone to share a bottle of wine with. She’d forgotten how comforting it could be to share her life with someone, at least when Greg hadn’t been in school, studying for an exam, or volunteering at the local hospital. A girl could get use to this, especially with a dashing man like Maxim around.

Maxim eyed the white plastic bag, his brow wrinkled. She set her purse and their food on the dining room table.

“Don’t worry, the food’s top notch--as far as taco truck food goes. You’ll love it.”

“Oh, I trust your judgment in food, but I’ve never smelled anything like it. Exactly what is it?” Maxim asked, confusion clouding his face.

“It’s only the most authentic Mexican food available north of the border.” Lucessa could barely contain her enthusiasm. She reached in the bag and withdrew two foil wrapped burritos stuffed with rice, beans, carne asada, guacamole, sour cream, salsa and onions. Her mouth watered.

Maxim sat at the table and Lucessa followed suit after she’d grabbed two glasses and milk from the fridge.

His face still held a look of suspicion as he unwrapped his burrito. “This is heavy. Is this all one meal?”

She laughed. It was obvious he’d never had a burrito--let alone a taco truck burrito. The suspicious look vanished from his face, only to be replaced with a hurt look.

“You’re not the only one in the country who hasn’t tried taco truck!” she said, attempting to soothe his feelings. “I’m sure there’s a town in North Dakota that taco trucks haven’t taken over.” Lucessa suppressed a grin.

“Are you laughing at my expense?” His hurt look was replaced by a grin. He
could
take a joke.

“Never.” She smiled.
Something is different about him. He’s more relaxed, less formal.
She could get used to this Maxim, too.

“This is really good.” His face turned serious as he chewed his first bite, washing it down with a cool swallow of milk. “How’s Marie?” he asked.

It was her turn to look confused. She’d never mentioned her mother--other than on the phone today, and she definitely didn’t remember telling Maxim her mother’s name.

Unease stabbed her gut.
Who is this guy? I’m making a huge mistake!
This was the first time she found herself questioning his presence, his motives for protecting her. Did he know her mother?

Play it cool, Lucessa. Find out more before you jump to conclusions,
she told herself.

“She’s doing well. The doctors say the Alzheimer’s will get progressively worse as time passes, but she’s proved the doctors wrong so far. Still, most days she doesn’t remember me or my father.” Lucessa watched Maxim’s face for any change in expression.
Does he know more about me then he’s telling?
A look crossed his face, but was gone before she could be sure what it was.

“Has she been sick long?” His question was uttered casually, but she felt the air in the room thicken.

She chewed the bite in her mouth and swallowed before she replied. “Since the accident, actually. Her memory was impaired then and has only gotten worse since.”

“I’m sorry.” He bowed his head, refusing to meet her gaze.

“It was hard when I was younger, but I learned how to take care of her. When I went to college I found a home I could afford with the money from my father’s life insurance policy.” She wanted to cry at the memory of leaving her mom at the nursing home and the way her mother had watched her walk out the door.