Fortune (12 page)

It had been so good to talk to her again, so good to have someone she could share her fears with. Since then, they had spoken several times. Each time, Susan had begged Claire to come live with her. She was an English professor at St. Mary's College in Notre Dame, Indiana. She would help her, she promised. And if Pierce found them, she would help Claire fight him.

Claire had declined each invitation. She had been too afraid. Susan didn't understand the power of the Monarch family. She didn't understand the lengths they would go to have their girl back.

And her friend didn't understand the depths of Griffen's dark obsession. No one did but Claire.

“Lady, you paying rent on that stool, or what? I gotta use the phone.”

She looked over her shoulder at the dripping-wet, red-faced man who stood behind her. “Sorry,” she murmured, sliding off the stool. “It's all yours.”

Claire made her way to the bar, got a glass of wine then returned to the phone. The man was still talking, so she took a seat at the empty booth adjacent to it. She sipped the slightly sharp cabernet, her hand shaking so badly some of the wine sloshed over the side. She sipped again, then sagged against the booth's ripped vinyl back. She couldn't do what she was contemplating. Leave Skye? Even if only for a few weeks? How could she bear to be without her?

What other option did she have?

Claire closed her eyes, thinking again of Susan. Susan was the one person she knew well enough, the one person she trusted enough, to leave her precious baby with.

Susan would help her. If she asked her to come for Skye, if she asked her to keep her—hide her—for a while, she would. Claire could give Pierce and his private investigator the slip. She could run tonight, in the height of the storm's fury; she had already laid the groundwork for her and Skye's disappearance. Everyone would think that they had gone together. Of course they would. When Pierce's P.I. showed up, Chance could point them in whatever direction she had asked him to.

She dropped her head into her hands. If Pierce caught them, he would take Skye away from her. He would take Skye back to that dark, joyless place. Skye would be at Griffen's mercy.

The monstrous dark beast was almost upon them.

The red-faced man hung up the phone and walked away. Claire took a gulp of her wine, screwed up her resolve, stood and crossed to the telephone. She deposited some change, dialed Susan's number, then said a silent prayer that her friend was home.

The phone rang once, twice, then three times.
Answer, Susan. Please answer.
And then she did, her voice thick with sleep.

“Susan, it's me.”

“Madeline?” Claire could almost hear her come awake. “What's wrong?”

Claire took a deep breath, dangerously close to tears. “I need your help.”

“You've got it.”

Claire glanced over her shoulder, then turned her back to the crowded room, hunching over the phone's mouthpiece. “Pierce has found us. He'll be here…soon. He means to take my…he means to take—”

Her tears spilled over so violently she couldn't speak. Her friend waited out her tears, allowing her time to compose herself enough to finish. “He means to take Skye away from me. He means to see to it that I go to…jail. He said I would never see her again.”

“My God, Maddie, what can I do?”

“I need you to come get Skye. I need you to keep her for me, for a little while. I'll give them the slip. I'm their only link to her.”

“I'll leave now, Maddie. Don't worry, your daughter will be safe with me. I'd die before I'd let that bastard get his hands on her.”

C
hance opened his eyes. Claire stood in front of him, dripping wet, visibly shaking. He blinked, realizing that he must have fallen asleep. “Claire?” he said, glancing around the trailer, dark save for the intermittent flashes of lightning from outside. “What time is it?”

“I need your help,” she said, ignoring his question, squatting in front of him, taking his hands. Hers were as damp and as cold as death. “Please, Chance.”

He straightened, fully awake now. He searched her gaze, a sinking sensation in the pit of his gut. Something terrible had happened. “What is it?” he asked. “What's wrong?”

“I need you to watch Skye for…for a while longer. Please, I—” Her words dissolved into tears. She bent her head to their joined hands, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs.

“My God, Claire, what's—” He drew in a ragged breath. “Of course I'll watch Skye. Go do what you have to do. I'll stay.”

“You don't understand.” She lifted her tear-streaked face to his. “You don't understand. He's coming. He's almost…I have to go.”

She looked lost. Devastated. Chance closed his fingers around hers. “Who's coming? Where do you have to go?”

“There are some people after us. They mean us harm. They mean
Skye
harm.” She struggled, he saw, to compose herself. “Tonight I learned that they're close.”

“I don't understand…what do you mean they'll hurt Skye? Who?” He sucked in a sharp breath, alarmed. “Claire, this sounds a little nuts. You're exaggerating, right?”

She shook her head, her teeth chattering. “If they…find us…I might never see Skye again. They'll take her away from me. And they'll…there's someone who'll hurt…he's hurt her before.”

“How close are they?”

“Very close. I don't know what I…what I—”

Tears choked her, and she released his hands, stood and went to the window. Outside, the storm raged, vivid jags of lightning ripping through the night sky. She hugged herself, rubbing her arms as if to ward off the cold.

She turned to face him once more, her expression bleak. “They could be here tomorrow night. I'm hoping the weather slows them up. I need to put as much distance between us as I can.”

“Jesus, Claire.” He crossed to her. “Who are they?”

“I can't tell you.” She caught his hands again, begging. “You're safer not knowing. Skye's safer. You have to trust me on this. Please?”

He nodded, and after drawing in a shaky breath, she continued, “I have to go away. Now. Tonight. I have to go as far and as fast as I can. And I—” She tightened her fingers on his. “I have to go without Skye.”

“Without Skye,” he repeated. “I don't understand how—” But then he did, and he took a step backward, shaking his head. “Oh, no. You're not leaving her with me. No way.”

“It would only be for the rest of the night and a few hours tomorrow morning. A friend's coming for her. Someone I trust completely. She's already on her way. She'll be here by 10:00 a.m. tomorrow. Maybe sooner. Please, Chance. I have no one else to turn to.”

“I still don't understand. Why not take Skye with you? Or meet this woman halfway?”

“These people have pictures of me. But not of Skye. And it's Skye they want. It's Skye they'll hurt.”

“Son of a bitch. Claire, I…this isn't a small thing. This isn't—” He swung away from her, wishing he could think straight. Wishing he could block out her desperation, block out the way she looked at him, like if he didn't help her she would be lost. “You can't be serious about this, you can't mean to go…without her. You can't.”

“Skye's all I have. She's in danger. I have to protect her, even if it means—”

Her throat closed over the words, choking them off. She cleared it and took a step toward him. “I'm begging you, Chance. I have no one else to turn to. Skye has no one else. They're almost here.”

He brought the heels of his hands to his eyes. This felt wrong, somewhere, deep down, in the pit of his gut. But he didn't know what to tell her to do instead. He didn't see what other choice she had.

He sighed and faced her once more. “What's your plan?”

“I leave now, tonight. I slip out during the storm, tomorrow my friend Susan comes for Skye. I'll rendezvous with them later, when I know it's safe. It'll probably only be a couple of weeks.”

“What if something goes wrong? What if this Susan doesn't show up? What if these people show up before she does?”

New fear shot into her eyes. She shook her head, as if denying the possibility. “They won't. They can't. And I trust Susan completely. I've known her all my life, she won't let me down.” Claire drew in a deep, uneven breath, catching his hands once more. “Will you do this for me, Chance? Will you do it for Skye?”

He looked into her eyes, knowing he couldn't refuse her. She needed him; she had no one else. It would be for only a few hours.

He nodded and her breath caught on a sob. She brought his hands to her mouth. “Thank you, Chance. Thank you, I—” She drew away from him, looking almost frantically around her. “I have to pack now. I have to go as soon as I…I have to go.”

“Wait.” He caught her arm. “What about Skye? When are you going to tell her?”

She wasn't going to.
Even as Claire's eyes flooded with tears, he shook his head. “You can't do this. You can't leave without telling Skye. I won't let you.”

“I have to. If I wake her, I won't leave without her. I won't be able to, and she…she won't let me. I have to do this, Chance. I have to. For Skye.”

He saw how close to falling apart she was. One nudge and she wouldn't be able to go. One nudge and she would take Skye with her.

He couldn't give her that nudge. Claire's desperation was real; her terror was real. He was afraid for Skye.

Feeling helpless, he watched as she took an empty duffel from the storage space above the dinette, then went to the wardrobe, located right outside Skye's closed door. She quietly and quickly took out her clothes, folded them and shoved them into the bag. From there she went to the bathroom for her toiletries, then the built-in chest for some folded clothing items. It took her less than ten minutes to pack.

“I have a couple of boxes in the outside storage,” she said, fastening the clasps on her bag. “I'll get them on my way out.”

She scrawled a name and phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to him. “It's Susan's number, just in case you…need to reach her. She'll always know where I am.”

She carried the duffel to the door, dropped it and turned to him. Her eyes were bright with tears, and when she spoke, her voice shook. “Don't tell anyone what's going on. Not anyone. I've already told Abner that Skye and I were waiting out the storm with a friend. I had to have an explanation for unhitching my car. I told him you were watching our trailer through the storm.”

She took a deep breath. “Keep Skye hidden until Susan gets here. If someone besides her comes looking for us, lie. Tell them what I told Marvel. Tell them Skye and I left together. Tell them anything but the truth.

“After Skye's gone, and safe with Susan, go to Marvel and tell him we didn't return from our friend's. Early tonight was the last time you saw us. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Tomorrow morning, have Skye pack. It'll take her mind off…you know.” She hesitated at the door, looking back toward the bedroom and Skye. “Oh, God…I don't know if I can do this.”

“Then don't, Claire. Please. I'll help you.”

“You are helping me. And I have to. For Skye. Pierce is—” She bit back the words. “I'm going to miss you, Chance.”

This was goodbye.

He stared at her, realizing that truth, stricken. “Claire…God, I…I'm never going to see you again, am I?”

“Oh, Chance.” She put her arms around him. “I'll never forget you.”

He hugged her back, choked, eyes burning. “I won't forget you, either.”

She clung to him. “Take good care of my baby. Tell her how much I love her.”

“I will. I promise.” He squeezed his eyes shut, hating the way he hurt. “Can I…is there some way I can convince—”

“No. She'll be safer this way.” Claire stood on tiptoe and pressed her cheek to his, hers wet with tears. A moment later, she released him and retrieved her duffel. She opened the door, then looked back.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Tell Skye that I…tell her I'll see her soon. And that I love her more than anything in the world. Tell her that. Don't forget.”

“I won't, I promise.”

He watched helplessly as she propelled herself into the storm. As the rain swallowed her, he took a step forward, feeling as if there was something more he needed to say. Something he should say, something that would convince her to stay.

But it was too late. She was gone.

C
hance didn't sleep for the rest of the night. He couldn't. He sat beside Skye's bed, watching her and worrying. He didn't know how he was going to break the news to her; he didn't know how he was going to handle her heartbreak.

But he didn't have a choice, not anymore. He would help her through these next hours, then he would say goodbye to her. Just as he had said goodbye to Claire. He drew deeply through his nose, working to ignore the pinch in his chest. The feeling of loss. He would miss them, though he wished with all his heart that he would not. He would think of them, wonder about them, forever.

When Skye awakened, she awakened with a smile. She was surprised to see him, but not afraid. “What are you doing here?” she asked, looking toward the window, to the gray stormy day beyond, then at him. “Did I oversleep?”

Chance told her then. Simply, clearly and with as little emotion as possible, hoping that his lack of emotion would soften the blow of his words.

It didn't. She stared at him, her expression reflecting the horror she felt at his words, the stunned disbelief.

She shook her head, her eyes wild. “You're lying! My mom wouldn't leave me! She wouldn't!”

“It's only for a little—”

“No!” Skye scrambled out of bed. “Mom!” she shouted, running for the front of the trailer. “Mom!”

She stopped for a moment, her expression panicked, then turned and raced back to the bedroom, to the wardrobe. She yanked it open.

And saw that it was only half-full. Her mother's clothes were gone.

With a cry of terror, she tried the chest of drawers next. She pulled each open, riffling through what was left, panting and whimpering.

Her fingers stilled. She lifted her face to Chance's, her expression bleak, brokenhearted. “She left me?”

“She was afraid. She said you would be safer this way. She said—”

“No.” Skye backed away from him, shaking her head. “It can't be true. My mom would never leave me. She said she wouldn't!”

Skye bumped into the closet door and collapsed into tears. Not knowing what else to do, Chance put his arms awkwardly around her, feeling a million miles out of his depth. “It's going to be all right, Skye. Just stop crying, and I'll tell you everything.”

“Let me go!” She struggled against his grasp and, breaking free, ran for the door. “I'm going after her! And you can't stop me!”

But he could. He caught her a moment before she reached the door, dragging her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. She fought him like a wild thing, thrashing and flailing her fists and feet. He tightened his arms, holding her as closely as he could, folding his body over hers, immobilizing her so she couldn't hurt him or herself. Holding her so tightly that she would know that he was there and that she wasn't alone.

Eventually her fury and hysteria became wails of despair, the wails after a time becoming heartbreaking whimpers. They sank to the floor. He held her in his lap, smoothing her tangled hair, murmuring sounds of comfort, ones that felt awkward and unfamiliar on his tongue.

Finally, quietly, he told Skye what her mother had told him. All of it, sparing no detail. He shared with her, too, her mother's fear and desperation, her absolute love.

When he had finished, Skye looked up at him. “I was right, wasn't I? About the bad people?”

Chance nodded. “Your mother didn't want to leave you. She was afraid for you. She said you would be safer here first, then with her friend.”

“This isn't forever.” Skye whispered the words once, then again. “She hasn't really left me.”

“No.” He pushed the damp tendrils of hair away from her face. “She told me to tell you how much she loved you. More than anything, she said.”

“Then why—” Skye bit back the words, though they hung in the air between them.

Then why didn't she take me? How could she have left me behind?

“She didn't want to,” he said again, softly. “She didn't think she had a choice. Come on now. Your mom wanted me to help you pack.” He helped Skye to her feet. “Susan, that's your mom's friend's name, should be here before too long. Your mom thought by ten.”

Skye hung back, looking scared. “Do I know her?”

“I don't know.” Chance frowned, trying to recall all that Claire had told him. “Your mother said she trusted her completely. She said she had known her all her life.”

“Well, I don't know her. I've never met any Susan.”

“Maybe you just don't remember?”

“Maybe.” She took a deep, quivering breath. “Are you coming, too?” She saw his answer in his expression and made a sound of fear. “I don't want to go with her. I don't know her. I want to stay with you.”

“I trust your mother,” he said gently. “Do you think she would let you go with just anyone?”

“No. But…” She caught her trembling bottom lip between her teeth. “But I want you to go, too.”

“I like you, too, kid,” he teased, hoping to get a ghost of a smile out of her. “I promise to write if you will.”

Her eyes flooded with fresh tears. “That's not funny!”

“I'm sorry.” He caught her hands and rubbed them between his. “I don't blame you for being scared. If this Susan seems like a weirdo or pervert or anything, I won't let you go with her. I promise. All right?”

“But…why can't you go, too? You're my friend and I…I…don't want to go with her.”

A lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed against it. “Because I can't, Skye. It's time to move on.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and he caught it with the tip of his index finger. “Besides, this doesn't mean we'll never see each other again. Right?”

She nodded, though he saw that her chin trembled.

He smiled again. “Come on, kiddo, we've got to get you ready to go. Susan could be here any minute.”