Beautifully Broken (The Broken Series Book 2) (20 page)

Mason
narrowed his eyes at Cenia. “What’s wrong with what I got on?”

Gabi
peeked out from behind Mason. “Cenia, don’t even try. Mason has no clue he
doesn’t match. I keep telling him he can’t pair a striped shirt with plaid
shorts and athletic socks with sandals. This guy’s a lost cause. There’s no way
he’ll blend in Paris.”

Cenia
laughed at the pained look on Mason’s face. “Okay, so Mason’s out until he
learns how to dress. The rest of you know better. If you want people to talk to
you in Paris, you’re going to have to dress nice. No jeans, no athletic shoes,
no Hawaiian shirts…” she looked pointedly at Mason, “and no white socks with
sandals. We need to dress in a way that blends in, and don’t forget that money
talks. We’re going to need some serious cash.”

Kadyn
nodded. “I agree. Phil will track down the address, I’ll scrape up some cash,
and Cenia will schedule a French immersion course.” He glanced at Mason.
“Buddy, I leave it up to you on whether you can sacrifice your sense of style
for the mission.”

Roger
folded his arms across his chest. “Look, I hate to be the voice of reason here,
but none of us can afford to get in trouble with the French authorities. We
can’t take the same kind of risks we took in Trout Lake. We can’t storm the
castle with guns blazing, not in a foreign country. We’ll jeopardize our
careers and find ourselves in a French penitentiary so fast it’ll make your
heads spin. I love Kri just as much as the next guy, but we have to be careful
about how we approach this.”

Kadyn’s
expression turned solemn. “Our ability to act will be extremely limited. If we
see Kri, we might not be able to intervene right away. We’ll have to watch and
wait for the right moment. Hopefully, we’ll catch her alone at some point, so
we can nab her without violating the law.”

Roger
nodded. “If that happens, she might not have her passport on her. We may have
to pull in the American Embassy.”

“Couldn’t
we just call the American Embassy and send them over to question Garcia about
her disappearance? She’s an American citizen who’s been abducted to a foreign
country. I would think that would be right up their alley,” Mason reasoned from
the kitchen.

“We
could do that. It would be a hell of a lot cheaper than flying over there and
paying for a hotel,” Phil agreed.

Kadyn
shook his head. “I’d prefer to check things out myself before pulling the
embassy in. What if they send an investigator over to the house? Garcia could
refuse entry. Then what? Then he knows we’re on to him, and he’ll take her
someplace else. If the guy has enough money to buy a mansion, he probably owns
more than one home. And, if he’s as smart as I think he is, they’re not all going
to be located in France. No. I say a handful of us go and check the place out.
We’ll gather as much evidence as we can to prove she’s there. If we can’t catch
her alone, then we’ll pull the authorities in.”

Cenia
tugged her laptop out of her backpack and plopped down on the couch. “That sounds
like a good plan, Kadyn. If we’re going to do this, I need to know who I’m
enrolling in this French immersion course. The sooner we get started the
better. I know Kadyn’s going. I am too. Roger?”

“Woman,
you’re on crack if you think you’re going off to Paris without me,” Roger
responded drily.

Mason
retrieved a beer from the refrigerator, twisted the lid off, and took a swig. “Count
me in,” he said, leaning over the breakfast bar.

“While
I’d love an excuse to jet off to Paris with Mason,” Gabi winked at Cenia,
“summer semester ends next week. I have final exams.”

Phil
walked over to the refrigerator, stooped inside, and pulled out a longneck. He
joined Mason at the counter as he twisted off the cap. “I’ll be in a better
position to gather Intel for you if I stay here. Oh, that reminds me. You need to
ensure your cell phones will work in France. You’re going to need SIM cards and
an international calling plan, unless Kadyn can requisition some satellite
phones.”

Kadyn
reached for his cell phone. “I’ll call Shawn to see if he’s flying to Europe
next week. He’s been flying that route a lot lately. If not, we may have to
find a military hop. Ramstein Air Force Base is going to be the nearest base.
We’ll have to drive or catch a puddle jumper from there.”

“You’re
going to have to get an international driver’s license if you drive,” Gabi noted
as she joined Cenia on the couch.

Kadyn
tapped the screen on his cell phone. “I think we should drive. It looks like Ramstein
is only a four hour drive from Paris, and we’re going to need a car in Paris. A
cab won’t work, especially if we snag an opportunity to grab Kri. We need to be
able to hightail it out of there fast,” Kadyn responded.

Within
four days' time, the friends did what they had been longing to do for over two
months. They flew to Europe to rescue Kri.

I
was standing in the closet, stepping into a jade lace dress, when a hand
clamped over my mouth. I was forced back against an unforgiving body. I tried
to scream as I struggled to break free.

Rafael
pressed his mouth to my ear and hissed, “Be quiet or they’ll find us.” He kept
his hand over my mouth as he dragged me toward the shelf displaying the shoes.
My eyes widened when the shelf slid into a hidden pocket in the wall. The area
behind the shelves was pitch black.

I
tried to break loose from Rafael. My heart was beating erratically. I was terrified,
certain that horrible, unspeakable things would happen if he pulled me into that
dark abyss. Rafael hadn’t touched me since the spa. I couldn’t believe he was
holding me like this when I was barely dressed.

Suddenly,
Justin was holding me, forcing a vial against my lips. I kicked at his legs as
he forced me into the hangar…
or was it a room?
I whimpered when I heard
the wall slide shut behind me. I clawed at his hands.

He
turned me around and pinned me against the wall. His hand was still covering my
mouth.
Why is he smothering me?
Justin and then Rafael’s face swam
before me. I couldn’t see well enough to identify who it was.

Rafael’s
face came into focus. “Please, Madame Stone. Not one word.” His body remained
pressed against mine. He slowly removed his hand.

“Please
don’t hurt me,” I rasped. I couldn’t catch my breath.

He
immediately stepped back.

My
eyes began adjusting to the dark. I could barely see him standing in front of
me. I trembled violently. “Why… what… what are we doing in here?”

Rafael
pressed a finger to his lips. He appeared to be listening for something.

The
only thing I could hear was my heart pounding and my own ragged breaths.

“This
is a safe room. Someone tripped the silent alarm,” he explained in a hushed
tone.

I
was silently questioning whether I should whisper another word. I took a step
forward and grasped Rafael’s shirt. “Where’s Michael? Please tell me he’s
safe.” Tears streamed down my cheeks. I choked back a sob as images of what
terrorists might do to him… to me… swam before my face. My heart stalled. I
felt my fingers loosen and slide down Rafael’s chest. Then everything went
black.

*
* * * * *

I
could hear Michael whispering angrily in French. “Michael,” I sobbed as I struggled
to sit up. The duvet slid down my chest.

Michael
rushed over to me. “
Mon coeur
…”

“Oh
God,” I cried. “Thank God, you’re okay.”

Michael
gathered me in his arms. “
Shhh, ma chérie.
I’m safe. You’re safe.
Everyone is okay.” He rocked me gently as he held me against his chest.

I
looked around, thoroughly confused. I was back in our bed, clothed only in my
panties and bra. “Was it a dream?” I asked hesitantly. “Justin grabbed me. He
was forcing me to drink from a vial…” my voice trailed off when I realized that
wasn’t right.

Michael’s
jaw clenched. “
Non, mon coeur
. That was not a dream. Someone tried to
break into the house. Rafael pulled you into one of the safe rooms.”

“A
safe room?” I repeated. Images came together, like a puzzle, but some of the pieces
were still missing. “In the closet?”

“
Oui.
Je suis
désolé.
That
must have been terrifying for you.” Michael eased me back against the pillows
so he could lie next to me. He tucked me into his chest.

My
eyes widened as I shot back up. “Oh my God, Michael! I was so worried about
you. I was afraid… the terrorists… Oh, God!” I buried my face in his chest as I
began sobbing again.

Michael
whispered soothingly in French. When I finally stopped crying, he switched back
to English. “
Ma chérie,
we are going away for a few days, while they
strengthen our security system. The plane is ready. We just need to get you dressed
so we can leave.”

“I’m
so tired, Michael. God, I am so tired. I just want to sleep.” A lone tear
trickled out of the corner of my eye. “I’m too afraid to sleep.”

Michael
kept me tucked against his chest as he sat up. He appeared hesitant to release
me. “I’m sorry, but we should leave now,
mon coeur
, while we know it’s
still safe. I’ll help you dress. Rafael will find something to help you sleep
on the plane. The maid has already gathered everything you’ll need.”

*
* * * * *

Michael
helped me dress. Rafael gave me a pill that was supposed to help me sleep. The
walk to the car, the drive to the airport, and the flight were all a blur. By
the time my head cleared, we were driving along a long expanse of azure colored
water, which Michael identified as the Mediterranean Sea. The deep blue water
was dotted with white boats of all shapes and sizes. When we arrived in Saint-Tropez,
our driver turned onto a steep, winding driveway that led to a large villa.

The
villa was painted the softest shade of yellow. Bright white shutters flanked
twelve massive windows across the front of the house. Eight large windows lined
the top floor. Four windows graced the bottom floor, along with two sets of French
doors. The driveway and the back of the house were nestled among a well-manicured
lawn, flowering bushes, and tropical trees. A large travertine patio was
sandwiched between the front of the house and a large infinity pool that hung
over the edge of the cliff. Both offered a spectacular view of the sea below. While
still quite large, the place appeared to be half the size of Michael’s mansion
in Paris.

Beauty
and tranquility surrounded the place, but I was too tired to fully appreciate
it. I asked Michael to take me to our room. He insisted I eat some chilled
potato and leek soup with baguette bread at a small sitting area nestled in
front of the window before I crawled into bed.

My
mind kept flashing back to the attempted break-in, so I begged Michael to lie
down with me. He offered me another sleeping pill before stripping down and
joining me in bed. I couldn’t bear to have him hold me from behind, so he stretched
out on his back and tucked me against his chest. I burrowed into his arms and
quickly fell asleep.

While
I was sleeping, insidious tendrils of fear spiraled through me like smoke,
leaving behind images of Tom, Justin, and nameless, faceless men who beat me
over and over again. I was so deeply anchored in sleep, I was unable to escape until
the pill wore off in the early morning hours. I woke even more exhausted than I
was the day before.

Michael
called to me from the window as soon as he heard me stir. “
Mon coeur
,
why don’t you come join me for breakfast?”

I
pulled a pillow over my head. “No, thank you.” My voice was barely audible
through the pillow.

Michael
sat down next to me. He removed the pillow, smoothed my hair back, and sprinkled
soft kisses all over my face. “Please,
mon amour
. I promise we are
safe.”

I
tried to smile when he kissed me, but I couldn’t. I cried instead. Michael pulled
me into his arms and held me until the tears subsided. I stayed in bed the
entire day… not really awake, but not sleeping either. I was lost somewhere in
between. Michael sat by the window with his laptop so he could watch me while
he worked.

I
left the bed twice but only to use the bathroom. The second time, Michael found
me hiding next to the sink.

He
rushed to me as soon as he saw me on the floor. “
Mon Dieu
,
Kristine!
What happened?
”

I
tightened my arms around my knees. “They’re here. I heard them outside.” I
looked up at him through wild, fearful eyes.

Michael
sprinted to the window, then slowly walked back to me. “
Mon coeur
, it is
only the gardeners. We are safe here. I promise you, we are safe.” Michael
scooped me up in his arms and tucked me back in bed. “Would another sleeping
pill help?” he asked as he hovered over me.

Tears
trickled slowly down my cheeks. “No. I’m too afraid to go back to sleep.”