Although she looked up to her husband for confirmation, Tony didn’t need to answer. Claire knew the truth before she posed the question. Emily too was a child of a child.
He stroked her hair reassuringly. “I will stop this. It can’t go on. We can’t live in hiding forever, and John and Emily shouldn’t live in fear of a threat they don’t even know exists.”
Taking a deep breath, Claire said, “You’re right.”
Standing, she brushed her lips against his. Tony pulled her into his lap, exhaled, and said, “Thank you. It’ll be a relief to know you’re safe.”
Claire leaned away, her voice stronger. “You’re right—this can’t go on, but you’re not right about Nichol and me staying here—Phil better get us an extra seat because we’re going with you.” She saw his finger moving toward her, about to silence her talking, but Claire shook her head and leaned back. Momentarily, their eyes meet. Hers contained a fire she didn’t try to subdue—it was a fire with a purpose. The flames masked the growing fear coiling through her thoughts. “Tony, this isn’t debatable—I’m not asking. We aren’t staying here and worrying. Besides, Emily is my sister—I’m going.”
Breaking their stare-off, Claire ended the conversation by surrendering herself to his embrace. She concentrated on the steady beat of his heart as her head rose and fell with his deep exasperated breaths. The sounds resonating from his chest pacified her. She fought the desire to stay this way forever—safe and secure in her husband’s arms.
Claire had played this game before. She’d just called his bluff. Now, it was up to Tony. He needed to decide to call, raise the stakes, or fold. She didn’t think folding was an option. Although he wasn’t happy with her proclamation, and it jeopardized his sense of control, they both knew the money to pay Phil—keep them hidden—and secure their return—technically, belonged to her. Ultimately, Claire would decide who would travel—and who wouldn’t.
As minutes ticked by, Claire lay silently in his embrace. She didn’t need to see his eyes—the color didn’t matter. If she wanted to go, then she was going. Claire could’ve yelled or fought to make him understand; instead she waited. Tony needed to justify this reality on his terms. When his arms squeezed her tighter, she knew his decision was made. With a sigh, Tony acquiesced, “I’ll call Phil. We’ll see what he can do; however, I’m confronting Catherine alone. I don’t want you or Nichol in her presence—unless she’s in police custody”—he kissed the top of her head—“Hell, even then—no, I’d don’t want Catherine to ever be near Nichol!”
Claire nodded in agreement. He believed he’d made a compromise. Truthfully, she’d won, yet if making his declaration helped Tony accept her company—she didn’t care. Claire didn’t want Catherine near Nichol either. Her priority was keeping both Nichol and Tony safe. After they assured Emily and John’s safety, Claire wanted her family back in paradise. Eventually, Tony would need to surrender to the FBI—it was inevitable, but she wanted her nine more months of paradise.
The last five months had been magical. Tony and Claire were finally partners with all the ups and downs accompanying those roles. They didn’t always agree; however, after a life with false conformity, they learned disagreeing wasn’t negative. It didn’t mean disobedience or insubordination; instead, it meant discussion, voicing opinions, perhaps arguing, and then making up. Even this last conversation illustrated their recently established equality. They’d faced the demons of their past and chosen a future.
Parenthood was an excellent induction—it took them both into uncharted waters—and evened the playing field—which admittedly had at one time been tilted in Tony’s favor. Every day with Nichol was an exciting new adventure. Claire didn’t want it to end any sooner than necessary. For the first time, she had her dream. It was the relationship she witnessed with her parents and grandparents. At one time, she believed happily ever after was outside of her reach. Now, it was her reality. She wasn’t ready for that to end. After all, it wasn’t supposed to end. The fairy tales her dad read to her as a child ended with—they lived happily ever after.
Claire wanted to believe that was the end of their story, but she feared it wasn’t.
That night, Claire lay in bed and listened to the sounds of her paradise. Unless she concentrated—the ever present surf, no longer registered. What brought the smile to her face and peace to her heart were the sounds coming from the attached nursery. The rockers of the chair creaked against the bamboo floor. Claire closed her eyes and pictured Tony holding Nichol.
Tonight, their daughter had made it all the way until 3:00 AM, before waking to eat. Before her cries registered to Claire, Tony was out of bed. Minutes later, he brought a freshly changed, cooing bundle to Claire. The middle of the night feeding was their special time. It was as if their room—their bed—and their family existed in a bubble which no outside force could penetrate; then, as was their routine, when Nichol’s belly was full, Tony told Claire to sleep, took their daughter to the attached nursery, and rocked her back to sleep.
Normally, Claire would drift away as his deep baritone voice spoke softly in the other room. Some nights, she’d try to listen to his words; however, sometimes she felt like an intruder on their private talks. Tonight, she gleaned words here and there as he lulled Nichol back to her world of slumber. The words that registered were Tony’s affirmations of devotion. She couldn’t help but notice that the word safe seemed to be tonight’s reoccurring theme. Claire twisted on the satin sheets realizing that hearing him repeat that word had the opposite effect on her.
When Tony finally climbed back to bed, Claire nuzzled against his chest. The lingering scent of cologne combined with a faint aroma of baby powder overpowered her senses. Her voice cracked as she tried to sound strong, “I love you.” She didn’t want him to know how scared she was. After all, she was the one who demanded to accompany him to the States.
Tony stroked her back and whispered, “I love you, too.” As if to reassure not only Claire but himself, he pulled her tighter and proclaimed, “It’ll all be all right. I won’t let anything happen to you or her.”
Claire nodded into his chest. She knew, even with his hushed tone, he meant every word, but at this moment, it wasn’t hers or Nichol’s safety Claire doubted. “What about you? Who’s keeping you safe and assuring your return?” Her tears ran onto his chest as she no longer attempted to feign strength. “I’m not just worried about Catherine”—her words came in snippets, interspersed with deep painful sobs—“what about the authorities?” “I don’t want to lose you,” “I don’t want this to end.”
Tony’s head fell against the headboard as he continued to rub circles on the soft exposed skin of her back. “I don’t deserve to be kept safe.”
She sat up and stared at him through the darkness. “Don’t you dare say that!”
“It’s true. I’ve done awful things, and I deserve to pay for them.”
“Tony, please stop.”
He sat taller, pulling Claire close and tried to explain. “The thing is, if this had all come down years ago—before you—I would’ve thought it was undeserved—an injustice. Like how I used to see my grandfather’s consequences, but now—now I know I deserve it. Back then, I would’ve gone away concerned only with Rawlings Industries. Now, everything’s different. The idea of being away from you and Nichol kills me. That separation—no matter if it starts sooner or later, will be worse than anything they could’ve done to me, before.”
“You’re turning state’s evidence against Catherine. With Brent, Tom, and all your legal team, maybe you can avoid jail time?”
“Damn it, Claire! You don’t deserve any of this. Maybe we shouldn’t have remarried; then you wouldn’t be married to someone who’s discussing jail time, and you sure as hell wouldn’t be harboring a fugitive.”