Behind His Eyes - Consequences (2 page)

In real life, he had a lot on his plate. Rawlings Industries was doing well, very well. He had more than enough to keep him busy. Claire Nichols was something of a fantasy, his
distraction,
like an exhibit at the zoo. Perhaps that was a bad analogy. Animals at the zoo can only be watched. At first, that was what he did with the Nichols girls: he watched. Then, with time, he experimented.
What good is having money if you can’t use it to your enjoyment?
He wanted to know if he could influence the lives on their list. Emily Nichols didn’t hold the draw that, somehow, her younger sister possessed; therefore, he made a few calls and learned some information. With his connections, it wasn’t difficult to take that information and change the course of history. A call here, another there, and suddenly, Claire’s suitor had an amazing intern opportunity across the country. It was exhilarating and proved that Anthony could manipulate Claire’s world. She was young, vivacious, and attractive; he doubted that his impact thus far would prove significant, but it proved that without a doubt, he could influence the course of her life. That knowledge was intoxicating and addicting. He continually wondered how far he could go.

As the saying went, knowledge was power, and Anthony Rawlings thrived on power. In everyday life, he had the power to change lives—those of employees and the futures of companies. Claire Nichols was unlike those decisions made from behind the desk as a CEO. Altering her life was done covertly, without Claire’s knowledge. The risk of discovery added to his elation.

Placing the most recent photos of Claire into a file folder and securing them in his briefcase, Anthony closed his eyes. The ever-present voice that worked day and night pushing his inner drive for success began to fill his thoughts. There were times that Anthony yearned for the real live, breathing mentor who’d influenced his life in such a dramatic way, but that wasn’t possible. His grandfather, Nathaniel Rawls, had been taken from him and from the rest of his family by the workings of seemingly inconsequential people—people who had changed the Rawls family forever. Not only did they change it—they eliminated it. The name Rawls ceased to exist.

It was a favor Anthony Rawlings intended to return.

Nathaniel’s voice echoed in his thoughts … words that Anthony would never forget, words that were aimed toward both Sherman Nichols and Jonathon Burke.
Not just them—hell, no. They took away my world. They took my family. Their damn kids, their kids, and their kids’ kids … they’ll all face the consequences of their actions!

That promise was spoken by the once powerful entrepreneurial giant who’d been reduced to nothing more than a common prisoner. Nathaniel’s threat repeated as a constant cadence in Anthony’s life, often accompanied by the shame now associated with his birth name. Public shame—failure for the world to see, all of it brought on by those individuals. Anthony had been born a Rawls—Anton Rawls. He longed for his current success to honor the name his grandfather wore proudly as a soldier and a businessman; however, that homage would never be. Each time he penned the name
Anthony Rawlings
on a contract, a completed business deal, or a monumental acquisition, he’d recall his grandfather’s words, and the roots of Nathaniel’s final desire would plunge deeper into his being. Those roots were now so ingrained and intertwined that they completed one another. He didn’t know when it had become so consuming, yet it filled so much of him—had pushed away other desires and feelings—until Anthony couldn’t imagine his life without the vendetta. It wasn’t debatable; Nathaniel’s wish would be fulfilled. Without fulfilling Nathaniel’s wish, Anthony Rawlings would be incomplete.

Anthony didn’t ask for the rewind reel of Nathaniel’s voice, which continually ran through his subconscious, and he didn’t need it. No, he had an everyday living, breathing reminder of his obligation—his grandfather’s second wife. Perhaps, without Anthony realizing, she was wise with her words. She never told Anthony that he
failed
his grandfather; instead, she’d subtly remind him that he had
yet
to succeed. Although her impatience grated on him, she was one of the few people Anthony allowed to fully voice her thoughts—especially when it involved his decisions. He overlooked her redundancy, because she too had lost everything. Anthony knew that if it weren’t for him, she’d have lost more, but the truth stared at him with steel-gray eyes almost every day. It was his failure in controlling his father’s vengeance that cost Nathaniel’s wife dearly.

Overlooking her reminders was Anthony’s penitence. He’d promised Nathaniel that he would look after Marie. If he’d succeeded in stopping his father’s retaliation, things could have been different. When Marie lost her last name, Anthony failed Nathaniel. He also failed his parents the night they died. He wouldn’t fail Nathaniel again.

The way Anthony reasoned, his planning, or procrastination as Marie called it, regarding the vendetta had paid off. Although he allowed her prompts for retaliation, he also reminded her that Anthony Rawlings worked on his own schedule and towards his own goals. Their list of
children
had grown shorter by the day through natural attrition. Jonathon Burke and his wife, Sherman Nichols and his wife, and now Jordon Nichols and his wife were gone. The original two and their wives passed away of natural causes. He had provided the funds to watch their health fail from afar, but his true interest lay in observing their children and their children. The PI explained that wet leaves were believed to be involved in Jordon and Shirley Nichols’ automobile crash. Anthony didn’t care about the cause, as long as he could cross them off their list. Now, his concern centered on the next generation.

As the plane touched down, his anticipation built … instead of pictures and reports, he would, for the first time, see Emily and Claire Nichols in person.

In an effort to minimize his visibility, Anthony dressed down and walked to the back of the church’s sanctuary. It didn’t take long for him to realize he could easily be lost in the crowd. The Nichols had been well-respected members of their community, and the church was overflowing with mourners. He’d never been to a funeral with so many people willing to speak. Apparently, Jordon had been a first-rate policeman; the church was wall-to-wall with uniformed officers. Shirley had also been a well-loved teacher. As the afternoon wore on, Anthony couldn’t help but watch Claire. She was seated next to her sister, and often, the two held onto one another’s hands. That wasn’t what captivated him. What caught his attention was how Emily had the man to her left. Anthony knew he was John Vandersol, Emily’s longtime boyfriend. Occasionally, Emily would break down and John would console her. Claire, on the other hand, remained steadfast. The pain was visible in her expression, yet only occasionally did she bow her head or wipe her eyes. Her stoic veneer fascinated him.
Was she truly that strong? What were her limits? Could she be broken?

Anthony assumed that if he hadn’t lured Simon Johnson away to California, the young man would be present to offer Claire his shoulder. That had been Anthony’s first attempt to manipulate her life, and it had been too easy. He would continue to look for more opportunities.

The preacher spoke, countless people gave their condolences, but Anthony’s mind was on Claire’s future. As he watched her, he thought about all he knew. He didn’t know how long her future would last; however, he did know that it was now at his discretion, and in some way, he would be a part of it.

The first step would be the scholarship at Valparaiso; it would be necessary for her to complete her degree. He’d already started the groundwork. After all, he’d originally assumed that he’d be at the Nichols’ funeral due to more manipulation. The fact that the vengeance gods looked down and blessed his plans reinforced his determination.

After the service concluded, the caskets were wheeled down the center aisle followed by the family. The church was a murmur of whispers as organ music played from somewhere above. Anthony couldn’t suppress his curiosity as Emily, John, and Claire headed his direction. Soon, they would pass mere feet away. If he reached past the older gentleman on his left, he could seize Claire’s hand; however, he knew that couldn’t happen, even though, as she moved toward him, she had already paused a few times to hold a mourner’s hand and accept his or her condolences. It wouldn’t look right; Anthony didn’t look sad. He wasn’t heartbroken over the loss—no, he was intrigued.

Then, just as the family neared, the man on Anthony’s left reached forward and spoke. “Emily and Claire, please know how sorry I am for your loss.”

They stopped and each young lady reached out and hugged the older gentleman. It was Claire who responded, “Thank you for coming. I know Dad and Mom would have loved to have seen you.” Her voice was strong despite the burden of her loss.

“You know that I wouldn’t have missed …”

Anthony didn’t listen to the man’s words. He was mesmerized by the green eyes he saw before him. He’d seen them in photographs—he had a whole file. They were different in person, more vivid, alive, and so full of emotion. Sadness prevailed, yet there was something else, Drive? Ambition? Determination? He wanted to gaze longer into their depths, but before he could speak and offer his condolences, Emily smiled sadly at the gentleman and the three were gone.

It was there, in that church, in Indianapolis, Indiana, that Anthony resolved that his and Claire’s paths would cross again. Someday he’d learn just how strong she could be in the face of greater adversity.

To know the rules of the game, you have to be educated.

—L.L. Cool J.

Mindlessly, the pad of Anthony’s thumb ran laps around the smooth rim of the crystal tumbler. He wasn’t thinking about the glass in his hand or even the Evan Williams bourbon swirling near the bottom. No, Anthony’s thoughts were centered on the monitors above his grand desk. From multiple, well-placed cameras, he could watch Claire move about the S.E suite.

During his time in Europe, the appeal of the woman held captive in his home had begun to fade. In all honesty, having acquired his goal, his return home seemed somewhat anticlimactic. After all, the hunt had taken years, and with each bit of new information, and each time he manipulated fate, Anthony felt invigorated. For a long time, Anthony had known that one day his target would be his.

The capture was all that he’d imagined and more—the true climax! From the moment he stepped into the Red Wing, Anthony knew he’d succeed. He was, first and foremost, a businessman with an impeccable record of success, especially when an endeavor had his full commitment. Whether in business or in pleasure, Anthony understood that planning and patience were essential elements for success. Before embarking on any deal, Anthony Rawlings thoroughly assessed the situation, eliminated the risks, and accentuated the assets.

This acquisition was different. Unlike the average acquisition, such as one of a company,
this
acquisition had risks that he couldn’t avoid. Sometimes that happened in the game of chance. The first risk was his public interaction with Claire; sitting with her in the Red Wing and taking her out to dinner were undoubtedly perilous. After all, he’s well-known, and the possibility of being associated, even coincidentally, with a missing person wouldn’t fit his perfect persona.

In all reality, he could have paid for Claire Nichols’ disappearance—only to have her reappear in his home—but that would’ve increased the number of people privy to his plan. With her ultimate future unsure, Anthony felt the fewer number of people on that list, the better. Most importantly, if he’d paid someone to bring her to Iowa, he would’ve missed out on the euphoria that came with finalizing the
big deal
. Anthony had experienced that feeling over and over in business, but that was nothing like the sensation of slipping the GHB into Claire’s wine glass. At that moment, he knew that there was no turning back—he didn’t want to.

Being a professional businessman with an image to maintain, Anthony worked out every possible scenario and created believable contingency plans. The time and energy he’d put into Claire Nichols’ acquisition could have been billed in millions—literally. Anthony Rawlings’ time was incredibly valuable. Suddenly, his lips twitched upward.
Perhaps he should add his billable hours in planning and executing Claire’s acquisition to Claire’s bill? But, wouldn’t that be like a jail sentence of ‘life’ plus 1000 years? Her first debt was practically insurmountable; adding more to it was truly adding insult to injury.

Movement on the screen caused him to refocus. He watched as Claire unsuccessfully tried to open a bottle of water. After a few attempts she wiped her hands on the arms of the chair and finally removed the cap. If he’d have zoomed closer, he would’ve seen her complexion pale as she forced herself to swallow the refreshing liquid. Satisfaction filled his chest; his delay was working—Claire knew he was coming to her, and her anxiety was obviously growing with each passing minute.