Secret Passions (16 page)

She leaned against the railing and watched the sailboats in the harbor. She loved this country for everything it stood for. Everything she’d ever desired. Freedom. She was hurt that some would never feel the freedom she had a taste of in the last five years. The thought of it disappearing scared her. She knew the penalty for what she’d done was death in her culture. Even though it wasn’t condoned by the courts, that didn’t mean it stopped it from happening. There had been several cases in the news the last few years where family members had tracked down girls here in America and Europe to inflict their punishments. She’d followed each story, wondering when it would be her turn. Living in fear. Thinking about it, she guessed she had never truly experienced freedom. At least not yet. Not until she was either dead or her family was.

She realized it came down to just that. Her or them. Pushing away from the railing, she started walking across the yard towards the pathway that led down to the water. When she made it to the beach, she was thankful for the cold breeze coming off the water. When it hit her face, she felt alive and realized that was what mattered the most.

No matter what her family did to her, they couldn’t take her time with Mitchell away. She’d gladly give up her life today, knowing that she’d been truly happy once. Even if they were separated and she had to start a new life somewhere else, she would always remember this time as the happiest in her life.

She made the decision to enjoy the next few days at least, until Ethan made his move to step in and move her. She would do everything in her power to make this time truly enjoyable.

“There you are.” She spun around and saw Mitchell walking fast towards her, w
orry in his eyes. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I decided to go for a short walk.” She looked around and realized she was farther from the house than she realized. When he approached he took her in a gentle hug.

“Here.” He removed his jacket. “You’re freezing.” He helped her put it on and, she realized she was cold. She’d been so deep in thought she hadn’t known how cold it was. The wind had picked up,
and she shivered as it tossed her hair around her face.

“Let’s head back?” She nodded and smiled at him.

“Is everything okay in the city?”

“Yeah, so far so good. I’ve told them I’ll be away for a few more days.” He was frowning again, and she wished more than anything that he would open up to her and give her a glimpse into what his thoughts were. She’d never been in a relationship before and didn’t know the etiquette of how to ask him to open up to her.

They walked back to the house, hand in hand, in silence. For the rest of the evening he was quiet. After dinner, she walked into her temporary studio. It was one of the larger bedrooms on the second floor that had a large desk where she could paint. She sat down and started working on another piece. However, after a few minutes, she set her brush down. She didn’t feel like painting anymore that evening.

The sun was setting and the colors in the room were vibrant on the white walls. She went and laid down on the small bed and watched the shadows float across the ceiling and the walls.

Memories flashed, and the shadows became images in front of her eyes. Faces of people she once knew, places she’d been, appeared on the blank walls, the colors adding to the calmness of her thoughts. Then a large shadow loomed over her, dark eyes resting on her, boring into her,
causing her to cringe in pain. Her hands and face were slashed open with rocks as everyone she’d ever loved threw stone after stone at her as she knelt in a dark pit. 

Then it all stopped and one shadow stepped forward. Pointing at her with a long thin finger, a deep voice cried, “
ṭraikṭara
,
ṭraikṭara.
” Over and over he called her a traitor.

Then he lifted his other hand and in it he held a long sharp blade. Just as it arched down, she called out, “No, Pita!” and sat up.

“
S
hh,
it’s okay. It was just a bad dream.” Mitch sat next to her on the small bed, holding her still as she cried into his shoulder. He ran her hair through his fingers and realized he never wanted to let her go.

Ever since the call from Ethan, his mind had been consumed with trying to figure out how to get her to stay. But he knew there was no way they could possibly live in constant fear of her family. After all, Ethan had confirmed the worse. Her father and cousin had enough power that they were in the states under diplomatic immunity. Meaning they could do whatever they wanted, go where ever they wanted, and most importantly, stay as long as they needed.

Ethan was going to have his men check into it further. If he could prove they were abusing it, or had committed a crime, they could be sent back home. But until then, they were free to come and go. The police were limited as to what they could do, which is why after the taxi incident, they’d never heard from them again.

She leaned on his shoulder now crying, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the feel and smell of her. Would he miss this when she was gone? Gone somewhere, hiding for the rest of her life. He didn’t want to think about her having a new life. Maybe falling for someone else, marrying, and maybe even raising children.

“I’m sorry. I guess the dream affected me more than usual,” she said leaning back, wiping the tears from her face.

“More so than usual? How often do you have them?” Since their arrival he’d noticed a few times where she’d been twitching at night, but he had always been there to pull her into his arms, away from the dreams.

She shrugged her shoulders. “More often since I know they are close.”

He ran his hands down the side of her face, brushing back a strand of dark hair back. She had dark circles under her eyes and he noticed a lost look in the dark pools that hadn’t been there before.

“Ethan and I are going to make sure they never find you.” He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Come on, I’ve made some dinner and found Caddyshack. You’ve never experienced comedy until you’ve experienced Chevy Chase in Caddyshack.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

The next day it rained and instead of staying in the room with her, watching her paint, Mitch used his phone as a computer and did a little more research. Diplomatic immunity laws were long and so in depth he was getting a headache trying to understand the basics. Just the fact that her family would have gone through such trouble to get their government’s approval to come to the States under this law told him the lengths they would go to get their hands on her.

He felt hopeless as he walked up the stairs. Just as he reached the landing, his phone rang. When he walked into the room, he felt even more hopeless.

Sitting beside her, he waiting until her attention was off the painting and on him.

“I have to go into the city tonight. I shouldn’t be long, but something major has come up. I’ll be back here by tomorrow evening. Will you be okay by yourself for a night?”

He saw the worry in her eyes. “Sure. I’ll be fine. There are plenty of supplies, and I was going to try and finish this piece anyway.” She smiled.

He looked at the painting of the beach scene and saw the outline of a couple walking hand in hand. His hope for the future was very strong. He wanted nothing more than to walk with her along the beach hand-in-hand for the rest of his life.

“I can stay.” He watched her face.

“No,” she shook her head. “Your work is important. I understand. You’ve been gone almost three weeks. Go.” She smiled and squeezed his hand. “I’ll be okay. There's no way my family knows where I am. Besides, Ethan’s man is supposed to be here later tomorrow.” He could see her smile falter.

“I’ll try to be back around noon. Is there anything from my place you need?”

She thought about it. “No, I’m fine. Just hurry back.” She leaned over and kissed him softly, causing him to want to stay longer.

Ten minutes later, he was in the car driving out of town, Sandi on his mind. He’d never really felt this way about anyone before. He knew he trusted her more than he’d ever trusted anyone before. She had even trumped Carter, his best friend from grade school. How he’d ever allowed their relationship to move to this level was beyond him. She was everything to him. Driving along the highway, he realized he even missed her in the car as he drove.

Sitting in silence was different with her in the car. The silence seemed less ... quiet. Maybe it was her scent that he missed? The soft feminine smell seemed to follow her everywhere. He didn’t think he could describe it if he had to. All he knew was that when it was gone, he missed it. It was there in her hair, on her skin. This got him thinking about the softness of her and how he’d always enjoyed finding another soft spot to explore on her.

She was everything he’d ever dreamed of, everything he’d ever hoped of having. Then why was he having such a hard time saying those simple words to her? He’d said them to plenty of women before. He’d told Suzanne he’d loved her before she’d even said the words herself.

Maybe it was because it hadn’t meant the same as it did now? When he said it this time he knew, somehow, that she would be the last woman he’d ever say it to.

Just then his phone rang. Switching it to speaker he answered the phone.

“Hey buddy, how’s hiding out going?” Carter’s voice sounded.

“Good, I’m on the road and should be there in a few hours.”

“Here?”

“Yeah, I got the message that the Travis account was going sour and you guys needed me to come in and smooth things over.”

“What? The Travis account is going south? Why am I the last to hear about this?” Mitchell could hear Carter talking to someone. He presumed it was Eve.

“
Uh, hey buddy, I don’t know where you got your intel, but the Travis account is secure. Eve’s on the phone with them now and everything looks fine.”

Mitchell thought about it, then slammed on his brakes and spun the car around. “Shit! Listen, I’ve gotta go.” He hung up the phone and punched the gas. He was almost twenty minutes out of town and prayed he was fast enough.

By the time he arrived back at the house, the sun was setting and the first thing he noticed was how dark the house was. He jumped from the car before it had fully stopped. Leaving the door open, he rushed towards the back door of the house, only to find it kicked in, its glass broken, shattered all over the floor.

He rushed in, fear causing everything to feel slowed down. Flipping on the lights, he screamed her name over and over. Running through the house, he searched ever room and found nothing. The room she had used as a studio was thrashed, paint supplies thrown everywhere. When he rushed in, he’d thought the red paint on the floor was blood and his heart stopped. Then he noticed the tube of oil paint, squashed as if stepped on by a boot. He followed the red boot print into the hallway, back down the stairs and out the open front door.

He ran into the kitchen and grabbed the flashlight, then ran back out the door. He headed towards the beach at a sprint.

Where would she go? Was he going to be too late? He stood there listening and after a minute he heard a gunshot and then a scream. Running towards the cliffs he ran faster then he’d ever run in his life, praying the entire way.

Sandi watched the car disappear around the twisted drive. She stood there for a while thinking about their relationship. She didn’t know much about how to show him what she felt. She’d tried telling him, but it seemed her words just weren't enough.

She leaned her head against the window and felt like crying. Instead she stood up and walked back over to her desk. She knew that engrossing herself in her art would help the time alone pass. She was so engrossed in her art, she didn’t register the noise downstairs at first.

When the sounds of glass breaking finally did register, she panicked. Looking around for a weapon, the only thing that was handy was her paints. She stood against the back of the door, barely breathing as she listened for any sounds.

They’d been in the house for several weeks now, and she knew every sound
associated with going up and down the stairs and hallway. When she heard the sound of the floorboards on the stairs, she held her breath.

Questions flooded her mind. How was she going to escape? Where would she go? She didn’t have a car or a phone. She didn’t even know where the nearest neighbor’
s house was. When she heard the door upstairs open, she bolted from the room and ran down the stairs. She shot out the front door and ran across the yard without looking back.

When she hit the tree line, she slowed down and looked back at the house. She saw a shadow in the window of her art room, then it was gone and she knew he was coming after her. She turned and ran for her life.

She heard footsteps behind her and ran faster. She thought she was on a pathway, but when it opened up, she realized she’d run right towards the lighthouse at the end of the cove. As she stopped in the clearing, she got her first glimpse of the large white building. Large rocks jutted all around it. It sat, a large white beacon in the dying light. She made her way over the rocks, heading away from the building, not knowing if there was any way to escape. She knew the lighthouse was at the tip of the cove. She’d meant to head the other way and in her panicked state, she’d gone the wrong direction. Stupid, she scolded herself. Just like the dumb women in those horror movies she hated watching. She slowly made her way over the dark rocks and when she hit the grass, she sprinted. She thought she’d actually lost her pursuer, but she stopped short when a shadow appeared before her.

She screamed and skidded to a stop, landing on her hip and hands in the small rock pathway. Pebbles embedded in her palms and ripped the jeans she wore. When she finally stopped she looked up into her father’s face.

“Pita?” She held her breath, not knowing what to do.

He stood over her, like so many of her nightmares from the last five years.

“Palatu.” He wore all black. Gone was his dhoti and long robes. In their place he wore black jeans, tennis shoes, and a leather jacket. She’d never seen her father dressed in American clothes, and she stared at him like he was a stranger.

“Palatu, why are you running away from me?” The sound of her native tongue was like ice on her soul.

She quickly stood up and rubbed her hands against her jeans, not realizing that her blood smeared across the front of her legs.