Always and Forever (19 page)

Clay glanced around. “Where are the kids?”

“Uncle Dylan is having Sean stay overnight, and Uncle Liam took
Kathleen.”

“Isabella’s here, with Irene.” Pat sighed heavily. “She’s been crying for mommy and seein’ me helps.”

“Say good-bye to them all for me.” Clay crossed to Pat, gave him a bear hug, clapped him on the back. “Hang in there, buddy.”

Bailey walked Clay to the door, where Jerry Grayson waited for him. Clay’s personal agent stepped outside.

Looping her arms around Clay’s neck,
Bailey leaned in close. “I’ll miss you. But thanks for being here. You give me strength.”

His face was troubled. “I’m not here enough for you.” He gestured to the family room. “I want to stay.”

“I know you do.”

His arms loose at her waist, he added, “We don’t have as much time as we think we do, love. Brie could…”

Bailey put her fingers to his lips. “Don’t say it.”

“All right.
Just know I love you.”

After Clay left, Bailey came back into the living room. “Anybody hungry?”

“I’m not.” This from Sinead. “I ate the food Gale and Jamie brought. Dad barely touched his.”

“You should eat, Paddy.”

Pat ran his hand through his hair and shook his head.

Sinead said, “You’re exhausted, Dad. Why don’t you try to sleep?”

“I can’t. Not with mom out there somewhere.”

Bailey grasped his hand. “Come on, we’re going upstairs. I’ll lie down on the bed with you, like you’ve done with me so many times in my life.”

He had to grin at his sister, whom he’d corralled more than once to rest by staying with her. “All right.”

Sinead rose, too. “Is it okay if Laurie comes over, Dad? We won’t disturb you.”

“Go ahead, son. You need somebody to talk to.” Pat
almost asked about him turning to Laurie, but he didn’t have the stamina to discuss his son’s life right now.

With Pat’s arm around Bailey, they headed upstairs. Both kicked off their shoes and lay on the bed he shared with Brie. “Where is she, Bay? Is she scared? Is she hurt?”

Lying in the crook of her brother’s arm, Bailey said, “I don’t know, Paddy. But you have to have faith in the
government. And in Brie. She’ll take care of herself.”

Pat closed his eyes and let out a heavy breath. “We had a fight. Then Dylan called me to help with Rachel, and I was at the hospital all night. By the time I got home the next morning, she was gone. What if that was the last time…?”

Bailey came up on her elbows and braced herself on his chest. “Remember when Clay was abducted in Zanganesia?
You lay on the bed in our townhouse with me and told me that we can’t think negatively. That we have to stay strong.”

“Well, I guess we’ve had practice at that.”

“Clay got out alive, Paddy.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He closed his eyes. “Say some prayers, honey.”

“I will.”

Sinead met Laurie at the front door, told the FBI that she was approved to visit. When she got
inside, he hugged her. She held on tight, which gave him some stability. He’d been shaky all day. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’ll be here as much as you want.”

“I know.” He drew her inside and up the stairs. In his room, they lay in the dim light on the bed.

“I’m so sorry she’s still missing, Sinead.”

Staring up at the ceiling fan his dad had installed, he whispered, “I can’t
believe it. My mom! I love her so much. But I’ve taken her for granted.”

“We all take our moms for granted. Let that be a lesson to us—when Brie gets home, and for my mother, who drives me nuts sometimes, too.”

“What if she doesn’t come back?” Tears welled behind his eyelids. “My father’ll never be the same again. Isabella will grow up without her. I’m not sure my family can handle that.”

Laurie sat up and took his hand. “You shouldn’t think that she might not return, but Sinead, if something did happen to her, you all
would
make it. Your family has a support system in each other like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

A few tears rolled down his cheeks. He choked on them. “I feel so bad I almost can’t stand it.”

Laurie watched him, then she slid off the mattress, crossed
to the door—and locked it. When she came back to the bed, she stood beside him and unbuttoned her white blouse.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m going to make you feel better.”

“No, not now.”

“Yes, Sinead, now.” Bending over, she kissed him like crazy.

It was twilight when Jonathan’s nephew, Harlan Smith, walked into the parlor. Brie felt a sense of relief
so acute she could barely breathe. “Thank God, Harlan. You’re here.”

He gazed down at her with an odd expression in his brown eyes. “Of course, Francesca, where else would I be?"

It was then that she noted he was carrying a tray with dinner for two. What the hell?

“Thank you for the meal, Harlan.”

Harlan’s mouth formed a crooked smile, which was creepy. “Glad to be here.” He addressed
Brie. “Especially now that we have you with us again.”

Brie sat in stunned silence. There were
two
of them. Any hope she’d harbored about getting away from an old man like Jonathan was dashed by the big, healthy man who was in on this perverted charade with him. But why?

When Jonathan nodded to him, Harlan turned and left.

“You must eat, dear,” Jonathan told her. “Or you’ll need an
IV tube.”

She forced herself to calm, to take slow bites until her food was half gone. She drank the tea and some water.

When Jonathan finished his meal, he set his napkin carefully on the table. “Time to retire, Francesca.”

Without being summoned, Harlan returned and led her upstairs, just behind Jonathan’s wheelchair on the lift. At the end of the second floor corridor, they stopped
at her suite.

“After you, my dear.”

Brie went inside the room.

Harlan entered, too, strode to a dresser and pulled out a fancy nightgown. “Change, Francesca.”

She absconded into the bathroom, shut the door fast and stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was askew, her face unnaturally pink and her eyes panicky. “What can I do?” she whispered to her reflection.

Plan on a
lengthy stay.

She took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. All right, she’d plan on that.

Maintain your strength. Eat even if you’re not hungry. When alone, exercise as much as possible.

Yes, yes, that would be the plan tonight.

A loud knock sounded on the door. “Francesca, are you all right in there? Do I need to come and help you change?” Harlan’s voice came through the wood, strong,
sure, demanding.

And suddenly Brie realized there might be more danger here than she thought. Could Harlan possibly… Was this all his idea? And who had put her in this fancy dress when she was unconscious?

She said as evenly as she could, “No need to come in. I’m ready.”

Wearing a lace-and-satin gown that belonged to a dead woman, Brie stepped out into the bedroom. A small light was
on in the corner, but it flickered a few times. Harlan nodded his approval, and Jonathan motioned to the bed. “Climb inside, dear. You need your sleep.”

She noticed the syringes on the night table. This was the first thing she had to stop. Once under the satiny covers, she grasped Jonathan’s hand. “Please, my arm is so sore. Can you not do this tonight? I promise I’ll stay in bed. Sleep till
morning.”

His eyes were glazed as he picked up the syringe and pumped some liquid out of it. “Perhaps, if you’re very, very good, we won’t have to use this again.”

The needle pierced her skin. She gave a little gasp.

“Shh,” Jonathan said and leaned over to kiss her on the forehead.

She closed her eyes in revulsion. Then felt another kiss, this time on her lips. The scent of alcohol
filled her head.

When the drug started to take effect, Brie’s last thought was she was never going to get out of this situation.

Patrick awakened to a dark room. His vision adjusted and he saw his sister, sleeping on her side, next to him. He remembered she’d forced him to lie down with her. He glanced at the clock. Three a.m. He’d slept for hours.

While who knew what
was happening to Brie. A lump the size of a golf ball lodged in his throat.

He slid quietly out of bed and made his way to Isabella’s nursery. Her door was ajar, so he stepped inside and found Irene sleeping on the spare bed. At the crib, he watched his daughter breathing softly, her curls sweaty around her head. He brushed them back and left the room.

In the now silent house, Pat went
downstairs. He noticed through the front windows that agents were visible across the front, and Laurie’s car was still in the driveway. Huh.

He headed through the porch doors. More Secret Service were stationed in the outer perimeter and at the gates of the fence, so he was basically alone inside the pool area. Once again, he snagged a forbidden cigarette, lit it and sat back in a lounger.
The air was still warm, and moonlight glistened off the pool. Usually, the setting out here calmed him, but tonight he was tortured by what Brie might be going through. He had to get his mind off of those scenarios, so he thought of another, a long time ago…

Nearly a year after Sinead was born, Pat had shown up at Brie’s apartment at ten in the morning to get the boy for Pat’s two days with
him. Lately, he’d hated coming here and was planning to make other arrangements to pick up Sinead. He could barely stand to be in Brie’s presence when her rejection still crippled him. Maybe Bailey and his brothers could bring his child to him.

She answered the knock right away. God, she looked good, dressed in one of those silky, skimpy, strapped things and navy shorts. Her hair was a reddish
cloak around her bare shoulders and arms. He wished like hell he could stop his immediate gravitation toward her.

“Hi.” She said the word simply, but there was something in her voice, something different. And her eyes were red. Had she been crying? Damn it, who the hell cared, anyway?

“Hi.” Pat’s voice was cut-glass cold. “Is he ready?”

“No, he’s asleep.”

“At ten in the morning?”

“I put him back down. He was up all night.”

His hand tightened on the doorjamb. “Is he sick?”

“No, I was prowling around and woke him.”

He glanced into her small apartment. It was tidy, with only a few toys on the floor. “I don’t want to stay here and wait till he wakes up. I’ll take him now, and he can go back to sleep in the car.” He glared at her. “You have class anyway.”

When he stepped inside, she blocked his way to the nursery, which was more the size of a closet. “Not yet. I put him down on purpose so we could talk.”

His first thought was she’d found somebody else. She was going to tell him she was involved with another man. He was poleaxed to the point of immobility. In his mind, he saw his whole life going down the tubes.

“Sit down, Patrick.”

His mind whirling, he sat.

Biting her lip, she took a spot on the couch next to him and curled her legs under her. “I’ve been thinking about us.” He waited. “I know I hurt you badly by not marrying you when I found out I was pregnant.”

“Spit out what you have to say, Brie. I don’t want to walk down memory lane with you again. It hurts too much.”

Tentatively, she leaned over the cushion
that separated them and grasped his hand. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, but this was something I had to do.”

“Had?”

She nodded.

He gripped her fingers. “What are you sayin’?”

“That I’m tired of the way I’m living. I miss you so much.”

His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“I’ve had my fill of independence. I want…I want to marry you now, Patrick.”

For a moment he felt
nothing. Then anger sparked and shot through him like a wildfire. “You want to marry me,” he said silkily.

“Yes. Right away.”

“Because you’re tired of living the life of a single mom.”

“No, I’m tired of living without you. I want us to be together. You, me and Sinead.”

“Hmm.” His gaze on her hardened. “For how long?”

“Always. Forever.”

He shook his head. “You got gall,
girl.”

Her chin came up. “What do you mean?”

“Do you honestly think, after you smashed my heart into a million pieces, that you can crook your finger and I’ll come running?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Yeah?” His voice rose. “It sure seems that way to me.”

Coming up on her knees, she inched over to him, so she was practically in his face. “I needed time. I’m only twenty, Pat. I’ve
always loved you, but I needed some space.” She put her hand on his chest and rubbed it through his T-shirt. “I miss us together.” Leaning in close, she whispered, “I’ve never been with another man but you. Not this whole year.”

The same wasn’t true for him. Still… “No, you’ve done too much damage.”

“I don’t believe that.”

Just then a cry came out from the nursery. Pat was glad. He
eased her away and stood. “I won’t be seduced by you, Brie. I’m not accepting your proposal.” With that, he turned and walked out of the room.

By nighttime, he was obsessed with what had happened, running it through his mind over and over. He couldn’t think straight. He poured the wrong kind of liquor into two drinks. And he barked at Dylan, who was working, too. Dylan barked back, just as
Brie came through the door. She wore the skimpy outfit she’d had on that morning. And every male head in the place turned. Pat had the absurd urge to punch them all out.

She crossed to the bar, sat and waited for him to come to her. He’d ask Dylan to wait on her, but his brother was mad at him. He sauntered down the space between them. “What do you want, darlin’?”

“I’ll have a Coke.”

He poured her one. When he brought it back, she said, “I love the way those black jeans fit your ass.”

“Don’t, Brie.”

“Don’t what? Tell you how attracted I am to you? How much I want to be with you physically again?”

Just her words made him hard. Fuck it! He turned away and tried to ignore her, but when she got up and went to the jukebox, he couldn’t take his gaze off
her
ass. She
played “I Will Always Love You,” by Dolly Parton. Their song. Goddamn her.