Comes the Night (Entangled Suspense) (19 page)

Chapter Thirty-Six

The fire crackled cheerily in the fireplace while outside a new snow began to fall, covering the earth’s imperfections, leaving the world peaceful and pristine. Inside the condo, everyone slept, but not everyone dreamed peaceful dreams.

The bound man jerked into consciousness, cold water running down his face. A man in an ill-fitting military jacket leaned so close his captive smelled his rank breath. “So!” his heavily accented voice rang out, echoing in the small shack. “You thought you could betray us.” A second armed man stood near the window, peering through the closed blinds into the night. A submachine gun rested in his hand
s.

The prisoner exhaled and worked the ropes that bound his hands behind his back. “I told you before you knocked me out.” He spoke slowly. “I’m just here to drop off the package.” He nodded toward the pouch that lay discarded on the floor. The ropes binding him were inexpertly tied and he was close to loosening them. If only he could keep the man talking for a few more minutes.

“Maybe you didn’t, but Daddy sure did.” The gunman slammed the butt of his revolver into the bound man’s face, splitting the skin at his temple. Stunned, his head fell forward. He missed the hurried exchange between his captors as they moved into the shadowed corners of the room.

The door flew open and a young man in civilian clothes burst in, gun drawn.

The prisoner looked up and tried to clear the ringing in his ears, aware that something wet ran down his temple, making it hard for him to focus. The newcomer gave him a silent thumbs-up as he scanned the room and the prisoner smiled weakly, “Hey, bro. What took you…”

His captors cursed in surprise and guns exploded in the small space. A bullet struck the prisoner in the arm, throwing him to the floor as the last of the ropes slipped free. The submachine gun riddled the man in the doorway with bullets.

The man with the revolver kicked the prisoner in the ribs as he left. “Tell the old man we’re even.”

For the first time since they captured him, the prisoner showed emotion. “Nooooooo!”

“Zach, Zach, you’re okay!” Cool hands caressed his face; an angel called him back from the depths of hell.

Zach struggled to awaken. There was so much blood; he was drowning in blood.

Blood ran down his face, spilling onto the wounded man. It was too much blood, even for a head wound. In horror he realized it wasn’t his blood at all, but blood pouring from the fallen man that created the sea of red. Zach tore off his shirt, heedless of the pain in his injured arm, and tried to stanch the flow. But there was too much blood.

The dying man smiled and pointed to Zach’s temple. “Man, are you lucky.” Zach strained to hear the raspy voice. “Chicks dig scars.”

Before, he’d wanted desperately to awaken; now he fought consciousness. He couldn’t leave the wounded man.

Awareness slowly claimed Zach. His eyes opened. Although he could tell by the shadows that night had fallen, he felt as though he’d barely slept. When he’d slept, he’d dreamed of blood. Blood and loss.

As he came fully awake, he realized something was different. The soothing weight of his wife was gone. Lizzie sat beside him, close but not touching, staring at the pictures. She shuffled through them, then laid them on the coffee table and spread them out, reaching a hesitant hand to touch them once again.

“It’s true.” His voice emotionless, he forced out the words. “He’s my father. I am Thomas Forrester.”

When she failed to respond, his heart sank further. She was hurt, he knew, even though they’d known it was likely that he had lied to her about his past. “I’m sorry.”

She turned to look at him, her eyes luminous in the light of the fire. “Zach, look…” She was holding the picture of him and his father. Alistair’s arm was thrown around his shoulders in a gesture of fatherly affection. He looked away, feeling ill in the pit of his stomach.

“Look!” The urgency in her voice drew him back. He looked at the picture. She pointed a trembling finger at his smiling face. There was no dimple.

“Lizzie…” His hesitant reply was interrupted when an infant’s loud cry sounded from the bedroom, followed by a sleepy call for Mommy. The children were awake.

He ran his hand roughly along his stubbled jaw, pausing as he forced a smile and traced his dimple with his finger while staring at the pictures. She was right. The boy with Alistair had no dimple.

His wife laid gentle hands on his arm. “I’ll get the kids.” Her worried voice pulled him out of his reverie, and he looked at her with confused eyes. Who was this boy that resembled him so closely?

“I’ll be right back.” She squeezed his arm and stood. He nodded and returned his gaze to the pictures.

By the time Lizzie returned with the children, he’d tucked the pictures back in the envelope and placed it on the mantel.

“Daddy!” Sam ran to him, holding up her arms. He picked her up and tossed her into the air, eliciting giggles. For the next couple of hours he set aside his confusion and concentrated on his family.

…

Lizzie wandered through the front room of the condo, Daniel in her arms, making sure the door was locked for the third time even though she knew a security guard stood just outside. Cole had left to get some sleep, and although she and Zach agreed to engage other Weston employees in their protection, she didn’t feel quite as comfortable with the replacement, no matter how well trained he might be.

They’d decided to stay in the condo for a second night after a security sweep revealed numerous listening devices in their home and offices. The condo, however, was clean. They planned to return home in the morning. She wasn’t going back until they were certain they wouldn’t be observed, overheard, or in any way spied on. She’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.

Although they’d delayed discussing the photos until after the kids were in bed, she knew the pictures weighed heavily on both their minds. Not only did those photographs hold answers to Zach’s past, they held the key to Alistair’s obsession with him as well.

Alistair wouldn’t quit. He’d come after them again, and they needed to be ready.
She
needed to be ready. Zach and Daniel were in the most danger. They were the prize. She and Sam were collateral damage. Grant had already called twice, once while Zach was sleeping, once when he was giving Sam a bath. He wanted Sam and Lizzie to come live in the penthouse.

He wanted her to leave Zach and Daniel to face the danger alone.

Like hell.

…

Lizzie was curled up on the couch feeding Daniel when Zach returned from putting Sam to bed. “Hey.” He smiled. He loved the sight of his wife cradling their son.

“Hey, yourself.” She patted the seat next to her. “Sit with us.”

He joined them, wrapping his arm around her and rubbing his other hand along Daniel’s back. He rested his cheek against his wife’s head and enjoyed this rare moment of peace.

After a few moments, she stirred. “Daniel had a little bear, a hockey bear that you gave him. It was his little guardian angel bear.” She blushed. “I know it sounds silly, but…” He said nothing, placing a kiss against her hair, encouraging her without words to continue. “I had it with me when Alistair kidnapped me. I wonder what happened to it. Did you—did you ever see it?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. Sorry that Alistair took so much from you—from us. Maybe we can replace it.”

She nodded. They continued to sit in silence, the peaceful moment haunted by things lost.

When Daniel finished eating, Zach put him to bed. Returning, he retrieved the photos from the mantel and sat next to her. “I guess it’s time we talked. About everything. I thought…well, before we talk about the pictures, I’d like for you to tell me everything you remember about Alistair, the island, Desiree, any detail, no matter how insignificant it may seem.”

Lizzie nodded, biting her lower lip as she avoided eye contact.

“Lizzie?”

Finally she raised troubled eyes to his.

“Did you sleep with Desiree?”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

“Did you sleep with Desiree?”

Although she’d tried for nonchalance, her voice came out sharp and accusing, a sign she was hurt and a little afraid. And, truthfully, embarrassed. Because didn’t they have bigger problems to worry about than whether he’d slept with a woman he thought was his fiancée when he didn’t know that he was married to her?

Zach stared at her. She could tell her question was unexpected. “Did I…? No, I did not sleep with Desiree. Why would you ask that?”

She looked away before responding. “Because Alistair showed me footage of the two of you going at it hot and heavy in the hallway in front of her room. Because Desiree opened her door and pulled you inside. You seemed very willing to me.” She looked back, eyes flashing.
Damn, forget playing it cool
. Remembered pain rushed in and anger followed.

“When did you see this?” He frowned darkly.

Taken aback by his frown, she gave him a hard look in return. Who was he to be offended because he’d been caught in
his
indiscretion? “The night after Desiree told you she was pregnant. The night you kissed me and asked me to run away with you. Apparently your offer was nothing to write home about. Any available girl would do.” The words just tumbled out, and, appalled with herself, she wished she could call them back. He’d thought the woman was his fiancée, was carrying his child.

He stared at her, saying nothing.

“I realize it’s not exactly fair of me to be mad, since…since…” She began to stutter as she realized he was fighting back a grin. Hmmphh! He might be her husband, but he certainly was lacking some of his former intelligence. This was not a good time to make fun of her!

Eyes narrowed, she snapped, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll wipe that grin right off your face.” She tried to pull away from him, but he caught her by the shoulders, fingers running soothingly along the muscles of her upper back.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” He grinned ruefully. “It’s just that you’re so damn sexy when you’re mad. I’ll bet I never win an argument.” Sobering, he ran his hands down her arms, capturing her hands and raising them to his lips. “I didn’t mean to laugh at your concerns.”

When she remained stiff, he sighed. “I was hurt that night and I felt like an idiot. I thought I’d fallen in love with a woman who was hung up on another guy. Thought I’d misread your feelings. Then Desiree showed up and…well, I thought, what kind of jerk am I? She’s my fiancée and she’s pregnant with my child. So I tried to do the right thing. Be the fiancé a woman deserves. So I kissed her. And when we walked back to our rooms, I was determined to renew my relationship with her.”

He let go of one hand to run his palm along his jaw as he remembered that night. “What you saw? You were right. I went into her room to—to have sex with her, but I couldn’t do it.” He looked into her eyes and she saw the truth.

He hadn’t slept with Desiree. Relief coursed through her.

…

“I told her it was too soon, that we needed to really get to know each other again. And when I left her room, all I felt was relief—and that damned, unending longing for a woman who didn’t want me.” He looked at her, one corner of his mouth tipping, although nothing resembling humor shone in his eyes. “You.”

“Oh, Zach.” She kissed him. “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you that night, take the risk and tell you everything, but then that tramp showed up. You never had a reason to be jealous.”

“Yeah, I know. Man, how I hated Zach. Hated him for letting you down, for owning your heart when he didn’t deserve it.” Unbidden, tears filled his eyes. “I still hate him for letting you down.”

“You didn’t let me down. You saved me.” She held his face in her hands, speaking earnestly. “You brought our family back together. Even though I pushed you away on the island, even though you knew I was keeping secrets, even though you thought you had a commitment to a fiancée—who, by the way, isn’t at all your type—you were faithful to me.”

She kissed him again. “You do not get to feel guilty for what happened. None of it was your fault.”

Sighing, he leaned his forehead against hers. “I’d like to agree with you, but we don’t really know that.” He pulled back to look into her eyes. “Because I kept things from you, Alistair is a bigger threat that he would have been otherwise.”

“Well, you should have told me the truth about your past, whatever that truth is, but you still don’t get to feel guilty because you’re the target of a madman. There’s a reason they’re called madmen, you know. Because they’re crazy and they do crazy, dangerous things. So you don’t get to blame yourself for all this.”

“Okay, you win. I’ll stop blaming myself.” When she smiled, he couldn’t quite regret the small lie. He really would try to let go of the guilt. But the harsh truth was that he had let her down.

Apparently she knew him too well. “You’ll get there. We’ll take care of Alistair, and we’ll move on from this together.” She leaned against him and tucked her head beneath his chin, running her hand along his chest to rest over his heart. “I don’t win every argument. You just sit and wait patiently until I see the wisdom of your point of view.”

He smiled, placing a kiss on the top of her head. Yep, he knew it, she won all right. He was putty in her hands.

They enjoyed the silence for a while, then, running his hand up along her arm, Zach looked solemnly at her. “I need for you to tell me everything,
everything
that happened. Don’t try to spare me. Your memories, what you went through…that’s our most powerful weapon.”

And so she told him. About the telegram she received and how she left for Atlanta alone. He quashed the desire to lecture her on her reckless behavior. After all, she was the reason they were all safe and back together.

She shared the threats and nightly rendezvous with Alistair. Through tears and whispered comfort she revealed it all. Every painful, anguished moment, along with every moment of hope she drew from Zach and his ability to be the man she fell in love with, even without his memories. When finally she finished, he could see she was somehow lighter, as if cleansed of the ugliness of the past month.

He, however, was furious. He’d suspected that Alistair had threatened her, but to hear it in her words, to know that he had repeatedly threatened their beautiful little girl… As angry as he was, he knew that Lizzie needed him to remain calm.

He forced his anger back and told her about the warehouse at the back of the property, the one to which he was denied access. Described the man he’d seen, the one with the scar on his jaw. Talked to her about the company and the meetings he attended—meetings that most of the time only he and Alistair attended in person. He hadn’t questioned the lack of attendance in any meaningful way because all he’d really cared about was getting the hell out of there.

He told her how he’d escaped the island and sought help from Sophie. He made sure Lizzie knew it was her courage and cleverness that brought them back together.

Finally they talked about the photographs. The resemblance between Zach and the young boy was very strong—as was their resemblance to Alistair. Was Alistair his father? Did he have a brother named Thomas? He had no answers.

He hoped the search team was having more luck in their search for information. Weston personnel, the FBI, and a representative from the local police had invaded the island compound and were searching it now. Alistair and Desiree had already fled, leaving only confused staff. Zach held little hope that they would find Alistair. Although his family was his priority, there was more wrong in that place than the kidnapping of his family. The mysterious research, the little white pills, something that had erased his memory—he didn’t know the extent of the evil.

They sat lost in thought as they considered all the information and how it might help them form a plan for defeating Alistair.

He was certain the old man would come after them—he just didn’t know when or where. Until then, a trusted bodyguard would accompany them everywhere.