The sandpaper like stubble scratched the soft skin of her enlarged breasts. With each turn of his cheek, her senses electrified. Currents of yearning coursed through her body. The combination of pain and pleasure melted into ecstasy. Claire hugged Tony’s face to her breasts while his hands caressed and encouraged. Nichol wasn’t the only one who enjoyed the liquid feast Claire had to offer.
The next few minutes faded into a cloud of passion. Her nightgown lay upon the floor in a puddle of satin, and his gym shorts disappeared. The tropical humidity added to the sultry moisture molding their bodies together. His broad chest weighed heavily upon her breasts as he pinned her petite body to the soft sheets. Skin to skin they were lost in one another. She closed her eyes as she mindlessly responded to his caresses. Endlessly, his fingers probed as he teased and taunted her desires. Claire couldn’t stand the anticipation any longer. Her entire being cried out as she begged for relief.
No other man had filled her so completely. No other man had taken her to the pits of hell and the uppermost parts of heaven. Her fingers clutched tightly to his shoulders as they momentarily forgot their troubles. Their world was right here and right now. Her body convulsed as she cried out to the only man who knew her completely. Before she could think coherent thoughts, before her body settled from its intense state, Tony too found relief. It was a brief reprieve from the demons surrounding them; nonetheless—it was a break. With the breeze from the ceiling fan stirring the early morning air, they fell asleep in each other’s arms—pretending their safety in paradise would last forever.
Phil secured their new identifications and accompanied them through the multiple TSA check points. Not once was his documentation questioned, as they safely re-entered the United States. Claire’s wig was short, and Tony’s contacts made his eyes a shade of green. Their travel clothes mimicked those of everyone else, and they traveled economy class. Although Nichol didn’t wear a disguise, the four blended well into the anonymous masses.
Before they left their haven, Claire hugged Francis and Madeline and promised their safe return. The couple didn’t know the ins and outs of the Rawlings’ legal issues. They did know they’d all grown fond of one another, and Nichol was the light of their world. Tony explained that he had created a trust fund that would assure the island retreat’s financial solvency. He assured Francis and Madeline everything would remain flush until they returned.
They both promised the couple, that their return would be sooner rather than later. Claire’s heart broke as Madeline’s large tears dampened her shoulder during their farewell. She knew if it wasn’t her sister’s life at stake—she’d never have left their island.
It took two full days flying commercial, but finally, they arrived in Cedar Rapids. It was late at night—after midnight, and thankfully, the airport was quiet, calm, and uneventful. After spending six months in the tropics, the cool March Iowa air chilled Claire to her bone. She shivered in the back seat of the van Phil had arranged to have waiting. With each shiver, Claire covered Nichol with another blanket.
While Phil drove, Tony reached over the baby seat and held Claire’s hand. “You’re trembling. Are you all right?”
“I think I’m just cold.”
Rubbing her gloved hand, he moved it to his lips. “No one noticed us, Mrs. Rawlings. You can relax.”
She exhaled and watched her breath create a frozen mist. “I can’t believe we’re going to show up on Courtney and Brent’s doorstep. I’m excited to see them, but what will they say? We lied to them.”
Tony and Phil’s eyes meet in the rear-view mirror. Claire asked, “What? If there’s something, tell me—I’m sick and tired of secrets.”
Tony squeezed her hand and tried to explain, “Knowledge is leverage for the law. Right now, I’m
wanted
and you’ve been harboring me. If the Simmons’ were caught communicating with either of us, they could be charged with aiding and abetting a fugitive.”
“Then let’s stay in a hotel. I don’t want to put them at risk.”
This time, Phil answered, “Claire,
they
want you there.”
“But, how? How would they know?”
Tony replied, “They’ve known since before you and I met up in paradise. Brent’s known you’re alive since the FBI questioned me. The authorities wouldn’t allow him to share. Of course, he told Courtney.”
“All these months! Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been berating myself over lying to my family and friends. Do Emily and John know the truth?”
Tony’s tone became businesslike. “If you’d have known—you would have wanted to communicate, and no, it made more sense for the Vandersols to remain in the dark.”
Claire stared.
Tony continued, “We’d hoped their pursuit of me and Rawlings Industries would keep them safe—that as long as they were helping to
hurt
me—we hoped that Catherine would leave them alone.”
Tears coated Claire’s cheeks as she turned toward the dark, dead landscape. Thankfully, there wasn’t any snow, but each tree along the way was leafless and the fields were empty and dark. Claire wasn’t sure why she was crying. Perhaps it was exhaustion or stress. Maybe it was anticipation at seeing Brent and Courtney and John and Emily again.
Her thoughts evaporated as her husband’s hand reached for her chin. With his thumb and forefinger, Tony turned her gaze toward him. Through the darkness of the van she saw his clenched jaw. “Can you please be mad at me later? We’ve got a lot going on.”
Not trying to move away from his determined tone, Claire closed her tired eyelids causing more tears to rush down her cheeks, and explained, “I’m not mad. You’re right—I would’ve thought about calling daily. After Nichol was born, I probably would’ve done it—even if I knew I shouldn’t.” Claire used her gloves to wipe her face. “I’m tired and scared.”
Tony reassuringly took her gloved hand in his. Phil interjected, “The Simmons know about Nichol, and they can’t wait to meet her. Emily and John aren’t due to arrive until tomorrow afternoon.”
Tony smiled and said, “We’ll get some sleep and you’ll feel better.” His devilish grin reappeared as he whispered, “Or not sleep?”
Claire shook her head. “I’m afraid our princess won’t understand the time change. We may spend the night up—in shifts—with her.”
Still holding his wife’s hand, Tony shrugged, leaned against the vinyl seat, and sighed. “That’s not quite the
up
I was imagining.”
Claire’s eyes darted toward the rear-view mirror. Courteously, Phil appeared lost in his own thoughts, unable to hear the whispers which only moments earlier he’d answered. Claire shook her head and peered under the blankets at a sleeping Nichol. With a weary smile, she placed one hand over their daughter, and enjoyed the sensation of her little chest moving up and down.
For a moment, Claire envied Nichol’s ignorance. As long as she was fed, clean, and loved—their daughter didn’t know the evils that lurked in the shadows. With her other hand, Claire clung tightly to Tony. Closing her eyes, she said a prayer to keep her family safe.
Friends show their love in times of trouble, not in happiness
.
—Euripides
Forty-eight hours of traveling took its toll—Claire must have fallen asleep because, when she opened her eyes, Phil was pulling the van into the Simmons’ garage. Even in the dark of night, she recognized the brick drive. Inside the garage directly in the beams of the headlights, Claire saw Courtney and Brent. Her heart leapt. “Oh! I can’t believe we’re really here.” Turning to see Tony’s face, she read a hundred emotions. Happiness or even relief didn’t seem to be the top contenders. She asked, “Aren’t you happy to be here?”
“I am.” He squeezed her hand. “I just realized the last time I saw or spoke to Brent we discussed something I’d rather forget. He probably told Courtney—” The van stopped as did Tony’s words. Claire watched Brent hit the button to close the door as she and Tony reached for their handles.
Phil stopped them. “Don’t open the van doors until the garage is closed. I don’t think we were followed—I took a lot of back roads, but you can’t be sure their house isn’t being watched.”
The reality of their situation came rushing back with the familiar pounding behind Claire’s temples. She’d taken some acetaminophen during their last layover before Iowa, but that was hours ago and the dull ache was becoming a nonstop pound. Trying to relieve the tension, she rolled her neck right then left. She wasn’t thinking, or she wouldn’t have done that in front of Tony.
“Do you have a headache?”
Claire smiled and shook her head. Telling him wouldn’t make her feel better, and she knew how much he hated her headaches. They reminded him of a time long ago. “I’m fine; what did you two talk about?”
Before he could answer, Phil had his door open and Courtney was rushing toward the van. Claire’s door sprang open, and without warning, she was swallowed in Courtney’s hug. “I’m so glad you two came here! Let’s get you in the house where it’s warm.”
Freeing herself from her best friend’s embrace, Claire interjected, “Thank you for letting us come...all three of us!” Tony had unbuckled the baby seat. Claire moved it to her lap, pulled back the blankets, and revealed their daughter. The biggest brown eyes stared up toward her mother’s voice.
“She’s beautiful!” Courtney squealed.
Tony was now to Claire’s door. “May we introduce Nichol Courtney Rawlings?”
Courtney put her hand to her lips as tears moistened her eyes. “Nichol
Courtney
?”
Tony nodded as a proud smile emerged.
Courtney hugged Tony and whispered, “We’ve missed
all
of you.”
Brent put out his hand. Though Tony had worked to mask whatever he was feeling, Claire saw a micro expression of relief as the two men shook hands. She wondered again what they’d discussed, many months ago.
Within the warmth of the kitchen, Claire removed Nichol from her seat while Phil casually asked where he could retire. Claire’s pulse quickened when Brent said, “Mr. Roach, let me show you to your room. Tony, would you like to join us for a minute?”
Although Tony showed no outward signs of concern, Claire knew from his earlier comment there may be need. As the three men disappeared, she wondered what they needed to discuss. If it was about Emily or Tony, then Claire wanted to know. Courtney’s voice brought Claire back to present. “We had no idea you named her after me.” Her blue eyes glistened as she asked, “May I hold her?”
“Her name’s a long story, but Courtney was a name we both agreed upon. You’ve always been so good to both of us. Of course you can hold her; let me change her first.”
Courtney couldn’t pry her eyes away from Nichol. “I don’t mind. Oh my, Claire, look at those eyes.”
Placing her daughter in her best friend’s arms, Claire replied, “Aren’t they beautiful? Just like her daddy’s.”
Claire followed Courtney through the house to one of their guest rooms. The men were nowhere in sight. Hearing Courtney talk on and on loosened the tight muscles in Claire’s shoulders and relieved the pain behind her temples.
“I’m so glad Mr. Roach contacted Brent,” Courtney said.
“Cort, you do realize this is illegal, right?”
“Honey, I’d break any law to have you here, safe and sound.”
Claire added, “And Tony?”
Courtney nodded before she closed the bedroom door, and asked in a hushed tone, “We don’t have a lot of time before the men get back. You promised you’d be honest with me.”
“I know”—Claire looked down—“I’m sorry about the way I left. Do you know about Catherine?”
“Yes, Mr. Roach filled Brent in on everything. We understand what you did and why you did it. Who would’ve ever imagined, sweet Catherine? We’ve been careful to never let on to anyone what we know. Mr. Roach said the FBI’s still working to put it all together.”
Claire listened as she changed Nichol and settled into a plush chair to feed her.
“I’m sorry,” Courtney said. “Do you want me to leave?”
“I don’t think I’d invite Brent in”—Claire joked—“but I’m fine with you.”
Glancing toward the door, Courtney lowered her tone. “I want you to know, we
really are
glad you’re here and safe. I don’t want to upset you, but I have to know.”
Claire braced herself for something. She didn’t know what; perhaps it was about what Tony had said. “What do you need to know?”
“Are you sorry?”
“Am I sorry? That I left without telling anyone?”
Courtney leaned forward. “No, are you sorry you allowed Tony back in your life? Is it truly different? You know, than the first time...”
The trip had been exhausting, yet Courtney’s directness continued Claire’s relaxation. It felt so good to be talking openly with her friend. There’d been too many secrets—she longed for truth. Claire settled against the soft cushions as Nichol, hidden discretely behind a blanket, suckled her breast. Smiling, she answered, “I don’t know what I was afraid you were going to ask, but that wasn’t it. Without a doubt, it’s different! He’s changed. I know some people say that people don’t change—but they do. I have too. The life we shared in our first marriage and before is a distant memory. For Nichol’s sake, I wish it could remain hidden. She doesn’t need to know any of that. Her father
is
a good man.”