Running Strong Read online

  Raphael closed his eyes and cursed himself once more. She had been going through hell, and all the while he’d thought she was living this full, happy life.

  “I am so sorry, Giselle. If I could—”

  “No, stop it, Raphael. I’m at fault. The choices I made got me into the trouble I’m in.”

  “Like hell. You trusted people who should have been your biggest supporters and instead became your jailers and torturers. This is not your fault.”

  “When I became a mother, my priority should have been my child. I might have depended upon my in-laws to be kind and loving, but it was up to me to take care of my son. I failed.

  “I know LCR is the best chance I have for getting Gio back to me safely. I had planned to come to you soon, ask for your help. Reddington’s perfidy just made that happen quicker.”

  To know that she had intended to contact him helped ease the anger somewhat. He wished she hadn’t delayed. He wished it hadn’t been necessary. Hell, he wished for a lot of things.

  “We’re good at what we do, Giselle. We’ll get your son back to you.”

  She took a breath and leaned forward, locking her gaze with Raphael’s. Her face was now ghostly pale, but a fierce light glowed in her eyes. It was as if sheer will alone kept her going.

  “If something happens and we can’t get Gio back, I would like Noah to consider something else.”

  “What?”

  “I’d like him to negotiate a trade.”

  “What kind of trade?”

  “My son for me.”

  “Never in a million years,” Raphael growled.

  “It’s certainly not my first choice either, but my son is the most important thing in my life, and he’s in danger. Being cared for by murderers. Just because I don’t think they’ll physically harm him doesn’t mean he’s not being hurt. He needs to be with his family.”

  “Yeah, only you’d be dead. And you have no idea where his other family is. He’d be alone.”

  “No, he wouldn’t. He would still have his father.”

  “What?”

  “You, Raphael,” she said softly. “You’re Giovanni’s father.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Raphael. Say something.”

  Unable to sit calmly, as if his world had not just been turned upside down, Raphael stood and began moving.

  “Where are you going? We need to talk.”

  He was almost to the kitchen but stopped abruptly. Not turning, his voice almost hoarse, he said, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had about as much as I’m going to take today on an empty stomach. We’ll eat, and then we’ll talk. Maybe by then you’ll have come up with an explanation that won’t make me hate you.”

  “I don’t blame you for hating me.”

  He whirled around. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  “No. I just—”

  He turned his back on her. Yeah, eating right now would likely make him puke, but if he didn’t get away from her for a few minutes, he would say things he would regret later. Fury boiled within him, and he would spew that venom all over her. Yes, he would make sure she knew how he felt, but he’d do so when he was able to think straight. Right now, concentrating on making a meal would help.

  Of course she followed him anyway.

  “Please let me explain. I didn’t have a choice. Didn’t know what else to do. When we left—”

  “Did you know you were pregnant? Is that the reason you left me behind?”

  “No. Of course not. I would never do that to you.”

  “Excuse me for not believing a damn thing you say right now.”

  She grabbed his hand, and he pulled away quickly. “Don’t touch me right now, Giselle. It’s not safe.”

  As her dark eyes dulled with sorrow, she backed away. “All right. I’ll wait. I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Wait.” He opened the fridge and pulled out the milk carton and poured a small glass. “Drink this. I’d rather not have you passing out in the shower.”

  She took the milk and walked out of the room. The instant she disappeared, Raphael turned and slammed his fist into a cabinet door. The impact vibrated through him. Numb from shock, he was glad for the pain. It grounded him, helping him to focus.

  When she had left him before, he’d lost himself for a while. His focus, his goals…everything. He’d been angry, yes, but the hurt had overwhelmed everything else. That gut-wrenching, soul-destroying hurt that could only come from being betrayed by the one person you loved more than any other.

  That feeling of betrayal had returned now, but in a different way. The feelings he’d once felt for her had blurred, changed. The betrayal should be different, too, but he could say with all forthright honesty that it felt similar to what he’d gone through before. Dammit, how could she have kept this a secret? Kept him from his child?

  By rote, he made them something to eat. Scrambled eggs were a safe bet. Protein for energy, filling and easy on the stomach.

  When he heard the shower turn off, he waited for a few minutes. Was she just going to stay in her room, or was she going to face him?

  The bedroom door swung open, and she appeared in the doorway of the kitchen.

  “Sit down and eat.”

  She didn’t argue, but sat down and ate from the plate he put before her. Raphael consumed his meal standing up.

  They finished the simple meal quickly and quietly. When he reached for her empty plate, she touched his hand. “Can we talk now?”

  “Go on into the living room. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Giselle walked into the living room and sat on the sofa. She was out of tears, so she just stared at the empty fireplace and thought about regret. What a strange emotion it was. It hovered like a dark cloud, and no matter how much you tried to get rid of it, it stayed, lingered, taunted.

  Hurting Raphael was the very last thing she had ever wanted to do. And she had probably hurt him worse than anyone else ever had. Twice. This last one was one he’d never forgive.

  Her reason for not telling him was valid, but she doubted he’d ever see it that way.

  Minutes later, Raphael dropped into the chair across from her and asked in a cool tone, “When did you find out you were pregnant?”

  “Two months or so after my family was relocated. I thought my nausea was from stress. We had to move several times those first few weeks, and we were all exhausted. Mama suspected and asked me. Maybe deep down I suspected but couldn’t face the knowing. I don’t know. Anyway, she sent for a pregnancy test and we confirmed it.”

  “So you lied about his age?”

  “Yes. Giovanni is six years old,” she whispered.

  He didn’t say anything for several moments. Giselle knew he was still trying to absorb everything. She wanted, needed to make him understand her choices, but she could already see in his eyes that she had a long way to go before that happened.

  “We used protection. Every damn time. I—”

  “That last time,” she said softly. “We didn’t.”

  She saw the heat in his eyes before he allowed it to ice over. Yes, he remembered. That night, their last night together, had been magical, beautiful. Just before dawn, when they were warm, exhausted from not sleeping, and so very much in love, he had slid inside her and made love to her with exquisite tenderness. Even after all these years, she felt a hot flush of desire at the memory.

  “One screw-up and you got pregnant?”

  She flinched at the way he said the words, but couldn’t blame him. She deserved every bit of his wrath.

  “Yes. It only takes one time.”

  “Did you consider for one moment letting me know?”

  “I could have no contact with anyone I had known before. That was their number one rule. I couldn’t put my family at risk.”

  It had been a lot more complicated than that. The instant she had revealed her pregnancy to the US marshal in charge of their protection, things had gone sour. He had always been pr
ofessional before, but when she had pleaded with him to let her contact Raphael, he’d gone from polite to downright icy. Even though she had understood his job, and a part of her had agreed with him, her heart had never gotten on board. Not telling Raphael he was going to be a father was one of the hardest things she’d ever endured.

  “Does Giovanni believe that Fletcher was his father?”

  “No, he was three years old when I met Danny.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  The tension in her muscles eased a minute amount. Nothing was settled. Raphael’s anger was a living thing, like a caged, hungry lion, but talking about Gio always lightened her being. “He weighed seven pounds, six ounces and was twenty-three inches long. He came into the world squalling. Mama said that was a good sign.

  “He was a good baby. Hardly cried at all. Slept through the night. Mama said that wasn’t quite fair, since she swore that I cried every night my first two years.”

  “Your mother was a big help to you.”

  “I couldn’t have managed without her.”

  “Who does he look like?”

  “He’s a miniature version of you.”

  Pain flashed in his eyes, and Giselle almost regretted telling him. She had photographs, but she would wait. They had a long way to go before they could sit comfortably and talk about the absolute joy of having a son like Gio.

  “When I showed up at Fletcher’s house, I thought I saw shock in his eyes. Now I know why. He knew who I was.”

  “Yes, I’m sure he did.”

  “This makes no sense, Giselle. Why the hell would your in-laws want to keep a child that’s not even related to them? Looks nothing like them.”

  “Because of Clarissa. Daniel’s acceptance of Gio was careless and vague, occasionally affectionate. Clarissa, on the other hand, was entranced the moment she met him. As I said, I think she saw him as her second chance.”

  He eyed her then, reading between the lines. Seeing things she wasn’t ready for him to see. “At some point, I want to know about your marriage to Danny.”

  “Not tonight, though.”

  “All right.”

  She didn’t bother to tell him it wasn’t any of his business. For almost two years, Danny played father to Gio. Raphael had every right to know what went on in their marriage. Besides, she had accepted that when it came to Raphael, she couldn’t keep secrets. When she did, everything got messed up.

  “So the basic gist is Fletcher wants to get rid of you for what you overheard, and Clarissa wants you gone so she can keep Gio for herself.”

  “Yes.”

  With startling abruptness, Raphael went to his feet. His expression was one she’d never seen before. He had been trained to expect and deal with the unexpected, but today had been filled with too many twists and turns. Finding out he had a six-year-old son was likely his limit.

  She wasn’t surprised to hear him say, “I’ve got to get out of here. You’ve got guards in front and back. You’re safe here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Without giving her a chance to respond, Raphael walked out the back door and into the night.

  She sat in the chair for the longest time after he left. Sadness lay heavy on her shoulders, and all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and sob her heart out. How could choices made for the right reasons turn out so badly? In one way or another, she had hurt every single person she loved.

  She might not stop making mistakes, but she could damn well make sure no one else paid for them. She had to get her son away from the Fletchers. No matter what happened to her, she had to save him.

  Feeling much older than her twenty-six years, Giselle went into the bedroom. She didn’t pull off her clothes to change into nightwear. Though her bags had been delivered to her from her car, and she had other clothes, she wanted to stay prepared. She was dressed in light sweats and a long-sleeved cotton T-shirt. They were comfortable enough. If something happened and she needed to move fast, already having clothes on would give her extra time.

  She lay on the bed and drew the comforter over her. It had been months since she had slept through an entire night. Nightmares often woke her. On other nights, torturous thoughts kept her awake. Her child was being held captive. Even though she could tell herself that they wouldn’t physically harm him, the psychological damage could be irreparable. Daniel and Clarissa Fletcher were evil. She had brought that evil into her son’s life. It was up to her to get him out. With LCR’s help…with Raphael’s help, she would.

  She closed her eyes, and Raphael’s image appeared in her mind. His body was muscular, much more defined, and he’d gotten even taller than before. There were lines around his mouth and eyes that hadn’t been there seven years ago. He had been beautiful to her back then, and though maturity and life had changed him from a beautiful young boy into a ruggedly handsome man, he was still the same person she had fallen in love with.

  Despite the heaviness of her heart, she smiled to herself, thinking about those early days. There were many good memories of her time with Raphael. They had shared laughter, secrets, and Raphael had shared his dreams with her. Those beautiful, magical moments had coalesced into a strong, unbreakable bond. One that would have lasted a lifetime if evil hadn’t arrived to tear it apart.

  She pushed all of that from her mind and concentrated on one of her most precious memories—their first kiss. It had been the night of her eighteenth birthday and had been the sweetest, most precious gift she could imagine receiving. His kiss was everything she’d dreamed about and so much more.

  The memories of that lovely night wrapped themselves around her, comforting her. Her nervousness, his tenderness. And then that bright, shining moment when his lips had finally met hers and everything had been right with her world at last.

  She should have known the nightmares wouldn’t allow her even that momentary happiness. They attacked with a vengeance.

  Darkness rolled around her, through her. Her head, her entire being felt heavy and useless, as if tons of water pressed down upon her. Something wasn’t right…this wasn’t right.

  The voice, thin and high, penetrated the darkness. “You’re sick, Giselle. You need to go away, get healthy again.”

  “No.” She shook her head and then almost cried at the pounding in her skull. “I’m not sick. You did this to me, and you know it.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You did this to yourself. You should have kept your nose out of my business. You’re responsible for everything.”

  She refused to listen to their lies any longer. She had to get out of here. She would take Giovanni and run.

  “We think you should go away for a while.”

  “Yes.” For once, she agreed. “Giovanni and I will leave immediately.”

  “No, you misunderstand. We believe you could harm the child or yourself.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” She surged to her feet, and the room swirled around her. She glanced down at the empty glass of lemonade her mother-in-law had poured her.

  “It’s for your own good, my dear.”

  No! Giselle tore out of the room. Every step she took grew harder and harder. Darkness edged her vision, and she fought its depths with every ounce of her strength.

  “Gio!” she screamed.

  “Mama!”

  There he was, in his playroom. His smile beaming, his beautiful dark eyes gleaming with tears. He lifted his arms toward her. She reached out for him, and something, someone, pulled her away. Screaming, she fought against the hands that kept her from her son. She could hear him calling for her.

  She screamed his name over and over. She had to get to him, had to save him.

  “Giselle.” Firm, hard hands shook her gently and then harder. “It’s a nightmare. You’re fine. You’re here with me now. You’re fine.”

  Blinking her eyes open, she looked up into Raphael’s worried face. Shuddering out a breath, she shook her head. She should have warned him.

  “Sorry. That happens sometimes.” She sat up in
the bed, putting distance between them so he had to drop his hands away from her. The temptation to throw herself into his arms was too great. If she did that, she’d never want to let go. And as angry as he was with her, having him reject her right now would be more than she could handle.

  Pushing the nightmares as far from her mind as possible, she rubbed at her eyes and then looked blearily at the man sitting on her bed. “I thought you’d left.”

  Raphael shrugged. He hadn’t gone far. Just a good hard walk around the property. Even as infuriated and hurt as he was, he wouldn’t leave her alone.

  “I didn’t leave. Took a walk.”

  “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “No.” Sleeping tonight was out of the question anyway. “You want to talk about your nightmare?”

  “No, not really. But thank you for asking.”

  He told himself he had no reason to be offended by her refusal to share. It wasn’t like they had anything between them other than a past that no longer mattered. Except they had a son. Dammit, he had a son.

  “It’s…they’re hard to describe anyway.”

  Yeah, he knew all about nightmares. He’d had plenty of them through the years. Horrific memories jumbled with fears could create vivid ones. You ended up not knowing the difference between what had really happened and what you feared might happen.

  “Raphael, about before. When I left you, I should have told you in person. I know reading it in a letter was painful. I thought I was going about it the right way.”

  “Water under the bridge. That was a long time ago.”

  “And I’m so sorry for not telling you about Gio. I wanted to, I really did.”

  “Let’s not go there again tonight. We’re going to get McCall’s family back, and then we’ll get Gio back. Then we’ll find a way to make sure the Fletchers pay for what they’ve done. That’s all we need to focus on.”

  “But you need—”