Gone Black (30 page)

“I'm sorry about the wedding, Claire,” he said after a moment but very softly, so as not to awaken the child. “I'm so damn sorry about all this.”

Claire opened her eyes and looked up at him. Tired out of her mind, but she still went for light. “I'd say you had a pretty good excuse for not showing up. You know, that abducted by psychos, tied up, tortured, and drugged thing. I can forgive that, I guess, but don't ever do it again.”

Black gave a low laugh. “You're in pretty good spirits after that death-defying leap into the ocean. Guess that's why I'm marrying you. You got guts.”

“Yeah, and they're all pretty much used up now.”

They had settled into their old habit, joking about the dangerous things in their lives. But that mood didn't last long, not for either of them. To Claire's chagrin, tears suddenly welled up in her eyes, hot and so full of emotion that it cut into her. God, she hated it when she cried. She hated when she acted like a big sissy. But she was at the moment and could barely choke out the words. “I thought you were dead. Then I knew you weren't in the plane when they blew it up, but I thought they were gonna kill you before I could stop them. I thought I'd never see you again.”

Black's face remained serious. He lay down with his head propped in one palm. He brushed some sand off her face. “Can't get rid of me that easy.”

“How do you feel? Is it over, or do you still feel the drug?”

“I think that jump and the adrenaline it brought out must've brought me all the way out of it. Cold water. Life and death, take your pick. And the Valium you gave me. I still have some brief flashes but I've got it under control, I think. You better keep an eye on me, though.”

“Rico saved our lives, Black. Without him, we'd both still be in there. Locked up. No way out.”

Black nodded, then he said, “God, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

“I'd probably be dead now if you hadn't come in to get me.”

“You've done it for me. A couple of times. And I haven't quite saved you yet. We gotta big dilemma here, I do believe.”

Black just smiled. “We're gonna make it now. We're gonna be all right. I'm gonna get us out of here, so we can have that blasted wedding. I'm beginning to believe it's jinxed. Cursed, maybe. Doomed.”

“Things were looking pretty good for that, before you had to go and get yourself in trouble.”

“Which brings me to this question. What the hell were you thinking walking into their hands like that?”

“You aren't really gonna lecture me about that now, are you?”

“I just can't believe you walked into that hellhole with those lunatics. I can't see Booker letting you do it. Or Novak. Especially Novak.”

“Yeah, Booker told me all about your little decree. But know what? I just couldn't quite settle for you getting your head blown off on our wedding day. Didn't seem right, somehow. Thought we should be together, at least. You know, together in marriage, together in a psycho maniac's lair.”

“Well, like I said, thank you. But don't you dare ever do it again.”

Claire laughed softly. “Yep, you're still trippin' all right.”

“Don't have time to trip. Got to get us out of here.”

“Well, all power to you. What are you gonna do?”

“It's getting dark. Not much we can do till dawn. No way can we climb up these cliffs at night. I found a little grotto back in the rocks where we can hide through the night. If we're lucky, maybe we can get a fire started.”

“I'd say we've been pretty lucky so far. Still breathin', still plannin' on a wedding.”

“Yeah, still planning that.” Black put his arm around her, and they lay back on the sand, Rico still nestled in Claire's arms. Black sighed. “Let's try to rest a little longer, and then we'll climb up to that grotto and dig in till morning.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Claire answered, but she wasn't exactly secure in the outcome of their little escapade, not unless the cavalry showed up. And they had seen neither hide nor hair of the cavalry to date. Nor anybody else who wasn't trying to kill them outright and/or torture them to death. Hey, but maybe everything would look just hunky-dory after a little time spent snoozing in Black's arms and listening to his still-beating heart. Probably not, of course, but a girl could dream, and Claire needed to sleep, in order to face some very bad things that were coming at them as soon as the sun came up and the bad guys came looking for them again.

As it turned out, Black was a real live Eagle Scout when on the run with a woman and child, fleeing from a family of psychopathic assassins. He got them up into the hidden grotto, started a fire with only some dry seaweed and a spark from scraping two rocks together. Wow, now she really loved him. She should've joined the Girl Scouts and sold some overpriced Samoas and Tagalongs to folks around the neighborhood. Problem was, when she was a little girl, she didn't have any folks or any neighborhoods, much less any delicious cookies. And she'd probably give everything she had for one of those cookies at the moment. She had never been this hungry in her entire life.

Once the fire caught, Black fed driftwood to it and got it up to blazing. She and Rico both moved closer to the fire and tried to warm up. The little cave was cold at night, and their clothes were still wet, but Black and Rico had taken off their shirts and pants and laid them out in the sun to dry. She did, too, but she still had on her damp and sandy sports bra, but it made her uncomfortable to remove it with little Rico around. On the other hand, it covered more than her bikini would have, so she guessed it was all right. Rico didn't seem to notice. As it grew darker outside, however, Rico curled up in exhaustion and fell asleep right next to the fire. That's when Claire took off her damp sweatpants and spread them out near the flames to dry. She pulled off the damp bra and shook the sand out of it.

“Quit trying to turn me on,” Black murmured softly, watching her, but he was smiling. No doubt glad to be alive, just like she was.

“Give me your big warm shirt then,” suggested Claire.

Black pulled it off and handed it over, but he was looking her up and down pretty good and with a very familiar glint in his eye.

“Quit trying to turn me on,” said Claire.

“At least we're still able to joke around,” said Black.

“Who's joking?” said Claire.

Black shook his head. “I have to say that I'm damn glad you showed up to save my skin. I wouldn't be joking around, otherwise. I'd just be dead by now. Or addicted to heroin and meth. That's what was coming next.”

That tidbit cut through Claire's light mood, but quick.

“Are you all right, Black? Really? You were pretty out of it, and not that long ago.”

He didn't say anything. Claire could hear the crashing of waves below them on the beach and the low crackle of the fire. “I know I was. I remember some of it, but everything was so distorted, like I was in a bizarre dream. I remember not believing you were there. I kept thinking that Booker wouldn't let you come. That I was seeing things. That there was no way you could be there.”

“Booker didn't stand a chance against me at that point. Now? I just wanna go home and lock the door and stay there and never step foot outside again.”

Black joined her by the fire and put his arm around her. He felt good, the warmth of the fire felt good, too, but that was all that felt good in this nightmare they were trapped in. He said, “We'll get back home. You did the hard part. Now it's my turn to come through for you. I got this.”

“Right. Who did you call back there before the phone went dead? 911? Ghostbusters?”

“I wish. I called Book. Happy to say they're on their way on a boat they hired in Marsala. They went to Marseilles first. Marcel had this all planned out and to the letter. He must've been working on it for months, years, maybe. Then I called my brother. Told him we were in trouble in Sicily, and if he could send help, do it, and do it fast. So no worries, we got a two-pronged rescue coming in to get us.”

“Wish that phone still worked so they could float up in that boat and pick us up from the beach.”

“They'll get here. They fell for Soquet's plot, just like we did. He's a clever man, and he never gives up.”

Black sounded very certain about their imminent rescue. Claire didn't feel certain at all.

“I don't know about you, Black, but I'm starving.”

“I could probably catch us a fish with my bare hands in the dark, given four or five hours or so.”

Claire laughed softly. “Where is room service when you really need it? Hey, is seaweed edible?”

“Yeah, but it tastes like crap.”

“Okay, I'll wait for the wedding cake.”

“Why don't you tell me about the wedding? Get our minds off all this. How'd your house look?”

Claire thought about their doomed wedding day that seemed five hundred million years ago and when she was sitting in her bedroom in her giant silk wedding gown waiting for Black to show up. “Actually, I don't have a house anymore. Soquet blew it up.”

Beside her, Black stiffened. “So that was real? They showed me a video of the explosion and told me you were inside. That the whole wedding party was dead.”

“They do have psychological torture down to an art, don't they?”

“We're gonna make it back, Claire.”

Black sat up, leaned over, and put some driftwood on the fire, and then he lay down and pulled her up close against him. “Okay, let's just go to sleep and try to get some rest and some of our strength back. Tomorrow's not gonna be much fun, either.”

Claire nodded and then she closed some very tired and bloodshot eyes. At least she was with Black now. He was safe and sound and rational at the moment and holding her close inside his arms. Maybe it was the last time ever. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe it didn't matter because it was out of their hands, anyway. She lay there with her cheek against Black's bare chest and finally, finally slept, because she had never been so drained in her entire, livelong life.

When she opened her eyes again, Black and Rico were both gone. But the fire was still blazing and sending its warmth out into the small grotto. She scrambled up, shed Black's shirt and pulled on her own nearly dry clothes, and walked outside, holding Black's shirt in one hand. They were both down below her on the beach picking up driftwood. Black glanced up and saw at her and smiled and waved. Happy, happy. Not. Because the extremely worried expression behind his smile said otherwise. They came back up and joined her in the tiny cave, where Black built the fire up again with the driftwood and dried seaweed that they'd gathered.

“I heard a firefight going on up at the fortress. I think Book and the guys have arrived and stormed the place. Looks like we just might make it out of this mess after all.”

“You sure it wasn't just Jaxy firing down the beach at you and Rico?”

“Pretty sure. It sounded like a full-bore attack. I hope to hell it was. But we can't stay here. We've got to find a way up this cliff. We need drinking water, and food, and weapons, and there isn't any of that down here. I already looked.”

Claire couldn't disagree with that. Her mouth was so dry now that she could barely swallow. “Okay, let's just go. No need sitting around here waiting for them to come find us.”

So Black kicked sand up over the fire and they headed off down the beach away from the fortress. It was early morning and gulls were screaming their raucous calls and waves were crashing into rocks; it was already hot, the blazing Mediterranean sun rising high in the sky and burning down on them. Claire tried to forget how thirsty she was. Black and Rico had to be, too, but neither of them was complaining. She thought of all the bottled water they'd had to leave back in the cave. What she wouldn't give for just one tiny sip of it. But Rico wasn't saying a word. He was turning out to be an absolutely amazing kid. She could barely believe he'd survived all that he'd been through. Black ought to make him a member in good standing of his little covert commando team. The kid certainly had enough guts. And it appeared they needed more troops. Booker and Holliday had taken their good sweet time showing up. If they had shown up. She hoped Novak was with them. He didn't seem the type to take prisoners. And she was beginning to like that about him.

They skirted the edge of the sea for what seemed like forty days and forty nights but probably was just a matter of hours. But the farther away they got from Jaxy and her henchmen, the better Claire felt. At least Marcel and Max were now out of the picture. At least, she hoped Marcel was gone. She knew Max was. They kept their footprints inside the foaming ripples sliding up onto the beach where they would be quickly erased. Claire felt better when they rounded a rocky outcropping that jutted out and hid them from the fortress and lethal searchers with high-power binoculars. They walked on and on, but finally, at long last, Black espied a twisting sandy path that led up to the top of the cliff. But what if Jaxy and her men were already up there? Waiting up top with their weapons drawn and sap in hand?

Apparently, Black was enjoying similar paranoid worries. “We've got to scale it, Claire. We don't have a choice. We're sitting ducks down here. Up there we can find a place to hide. And water. And maybe somebody who'll help us. Booker's coming. We just have to hold out until he gets here.”

“Okay, but be ready with that rifle.”

“Oh, I'm ready all right. I would just love to shoot down that crazy girl.”

He meant every word of that, of course. But he'd have to fight Claire for that pleasure. She planned to get the girl first, with her Glock, right between the eyes would be nice. She would be happy with that.

So up they trudged and climbed and slid backward on the loose sand and gravel, Black in front again, Rico between them, not complaining because he was a little angel sent down to them from heaven above to save them from themselves. Claire brought up the rear, tired, but feeling more rested than she had in a good long time. Black had torn a sleeve off his shirt and bandaged her palm and that felt a little better now. But it still hurt like the devil. But she did feel better than she had since she'd gotten that first phone call and saw Black being abused by an insane girl. Now she needed to regain some stamina, stiffen her spine, so to speak. She kept telling herself that if Black could go through all the terrible things he had and still do this, then so could she. But it was getting harder to keep going, and the sun was getting hotter on her head and burning the skin on her cheeks and chin, and she felt sick from want of food and water and the constant agony throbbing in her right hand. But they had to keep going. So they did.