25

 

Elle pulled on the ropes tying her wrists, waiting for her brother to hit her again. How could this monster be her brother? But as she looked at him she saw the similarities in his eyes and hair. But that’s where the comparison ended.

“I provided for you. I sent you to college. All that time you thought it was your father.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, your father.” PJ spat the word out. “He ran the whole club side of the business for years, not just the accounts until he died, then that idiot Jeanette thought she was in the clear. You see he got greedy. He cooked the books, skimmed off the profits from the club, and tried to get into the drug racket as well. So he had to die. Then I worked on Jeanette. Told her that if she kept you singing, I wouldn’t press charges against her, because she knew what he was doing. After that, you only received a pittance from your sales and singing. I had to get my money back.”

“I don’t want any of your money.”

He raised a hand.

She closed her eyes, reciting the verse from Psalm ninety-one in her mind.

For He will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

Her head slammed sideways as PJ’s hand made contact.

Bright light filled the room and she closed her eyes tightly to avoid being blinded. The brightness faded enough for her to open her eyes.

A huge figure stood over her. Clad in trousers and a shirt, he held a sword in his hand. Easily standing over six feet tall, with long golden hair that fell over his shoulders, the stranger’s physique put PJ to shame. Brightness shone around him and what looked like wings extended from behind him, wrapping around and over her.

“You will not harm her.” The voice filled the room, yet his lips didn’t move.

PJ froze. “What the—” The blasphemy died on his lips.

“You will not harm her.” The voice was louder.

Elle struggled against the ropes, desperate to get away. PJ raised a gun and aimed at her point blank. The bullet missed. He aimed and shot again.

“You. Will. Not. Harm. Her,” the voice boomed, resonating so the light fittings quivered. The empty glass vase on the table shattered.

The bright light increased around her and a breeze wafted her hair. A sense of peace filled her.

The sound of running footsteps made her look towards the door. Several armed men burst in, all shouting at once.

“Put the gun down.”

“Armed police.”

“Put the weapon down.”

“Elle?”

The light faded and the figure vanished.

“Elle?”

She looked around, relief filling her. “Patrick.” Tears ran unbidden down her face. “I thought they’d killed you.”

His trembling fingers tried to untie the rope that bound her. “No.”

“Where’s Abbie?”

“She’s safe.” His fingers worked at a frantic pace, until the rope gave. He pulled her against him, holding her tightly against his chest and injured arm.

She clung to him, hardly able to believe he was there. “Did you see him?”

“See who?”

“The tall blond man. He was right here. He wore a white shirt and tan slacks. He had a sword.”

“Sword?” Patrick’s head jerked up, scanning the room. “Is there another armed man we need to worry about?”

“No. He appeared when PJ hit me. He repeated over and over ‘you will not harm her.’”

Patrick looked down at her. “Elle, love…” He slid out of his jacket and wrapped it around her. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, few bruises, that’s all.” She took a deep breath. “Did you just call me love?”

“I did.” His voice faltered for a second. “Is that all right?”

“It’s very much all right. I like it.”

“Then I shall keep doing it. So, this other man?”

“Didn’t you see him? He was stood right over me. There was a bright light around him and he had wings and—”

A smile crossed Patrick’s face and lit his eyes. “Wings? That sounds like the angel that Dad prayed for.” His gaze held hers.

“Angel? That’s what I thought, but doesn’t that make me crazy or something?”

Patrick kissed her cheek. “Not at all. Now let’s get you checked over and take you somewhere safe. “

“Take me where Abbie is.” She leaned against his chest. His strong heart beating in time with hers. Her skin warmed where his lips pressed against it.

“That, my love, goes without saying.”

He closed his eyes as he kissed her. His hands ran over her arms, goose bumps rising on her skin in response. Stars exploded around her. She never dreamed so many different feelings could come from such a small touch as this. What had once been between them was still there. Perhaps she could rekindle it, have him become part of hers and Abbie’s lives.

When he broke off, she leaned against him and watched the officers pull PJ to his feet. A tall man she didn’t recognize held PJ firmly.

“Nice to see you again, Foster.” An American? What was an American doing here? Was she in deeper than she realized and caught up in something international?

PJ snarled. “Nemec. So how are my niece and nephew doing?”

“Doing great and will be doing so much better now you’re back behind bars where you belong. You have the right to remain silent…”

Elle tuned them out. Niece and nephew? She didn’t understand. Did she have more family she hadn’t been aware of?

 

****

 

Patrick held Elle tightly in the car as they were driven back to his parent’s house. He thanked God over and over for delivering her. Apart from rope burns on her wrists and a small cut on her forehead and left arm, she was unharmed. She’d fallen asleep almost as soon as they’d left Wokingham, not that it was a restful sleep. She whimpered and tossed against him, repeating something about family over and over.

He kissed her forehead, determined not to lose her again. She was his new obsession. If she’d let him. He wanted to be part of her and Abbie’s lives. A big part if he had his way, although he’d settle for weekends and holidays if he had to.

Elle’s eyes flickered open. “Are we there yet?”

“Almost.” He smiled at the childish statement. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s all right.” She shifted in his arms, resting her head higher up his chest. “You make a really comfy pillow.”

“Thank you. I think.”

She ran her fingers down his shirt buttons. “Is Abbie really safe?”

“She’s fine. I’ve seen her. We’ll be with her soon.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s at my parent’s place. I have six agents staking out the house. We’re going there for the night. We have to be at the hospital at four tomorrow afternoon.” He glanced out at the rising sun and smiled. “OK, this afternoon. There’s not much left of tonight.” He stifled a yawn.

“You should sleep a little.”

“I’ll spend most of tomorrow and the following day asleep. Elle, you mentioned family in your sleep.”

A wry smile crossed her face. “Something PJ and that American officer said. About kids and a sister-in-law. It’s possible I have more family out there. That’s if they want anything to do with me.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“I don’t know. Let’s see I have a psychopathic brother named PJ and apparently another just as bad named RJ and my father “cooked the books” for drug dealers. How long will it be until RJ comes looking for me to pick up where PJ left off?”

“You don’t have to worry about RJ. He’s dead.” Then he paused. “Sorry, I guess.”

“Don’t be. I don’t want to talk about my family anymore.” She raised a hand and ran it slowly down his face. “You’re my hero. My tall, dark, handsome, stubbly hero.”

Patrick turned into her touch and kissed her fingers. “You leave my stubble out of it.” He hugged her as the car pulled up outside his parent’s house. “Knowing my mum she’ll have made up a bed for you. You should try to get some sleep.”

“I will, once I know Abbie’s all right.”

Patrick slid out of the car and ran around to open the door for Elle. He wrapped an arm around her as soon as she got out and then headed into the house with her.

The door opened as they got there. He smiled at his father. “Dad.”

Dad smiled. “Come in. Are you both all right?”

“I will be. Is Abbie OK?” Elle asked.

“She’s sleeping upstairs in Patrick’s old room. I’ll take you.”

“Thank you.” Patrick kept an arm around Elle as they followed Dad upstairs to the small back bedroom. He pushed open the door.

Elle left his side and hurried to the bed, curling up behind her daughter. Tears ran silently down her face as she held her.

Abbie opened her eyes. “Ellie?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Abbie turned over and clung tightly to Elle, sobbing hard.

Patrick leaned against the doorframe, longing to hold them both, but having the sense to hold back for a few minutes.

His mother appeared at his side. “Here,” she said, holding out a glass and two pain meds. “You should take these. Shay said you refused anything at the hospital.”

“I needed to think. I still do.”

“Patrick, you’re exhausted and in pain. I can see that just by looking at you. Take them. They’re just aspirin.”

“Yes, Mum.” He swallowed the pills and then rubbed the back of his neck. “It was close,” he said quietly.

“But you got her back.”

He nodded. “Yeah.” Handing the glass back to her, he went into the bedroom and sat on the bed next to the two most important women in his life.

Abbie looked at him. “Thank you for bringing Ellie back,” she said, hugging him.

He hugged her back. “I promised, and I keep my promises.”

“Speaking of promises.” Abbie looked at Elle. “You said we needed to talk?”