Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Michael Ellis
Francesca is crying hysterically in the passenger seat.
The hair on my arms raises at the racking sobs falling from her lips.
My mind should be focused on controlling this car, but it keeps trying to make sense of the bit of conversation I walked in on.
Ashton mentioned a deal with Francesca and that was the first I’d heard of it.
Is she keeping secrets from me? My head shakes slightly, trying to erase the thought of betrayal.
Francesca and I were in this plan together.
We’re supposed to be leaving the Rose compound as a family of four, but instead two innocent children were left to a fate we can’t control.
Heat burns at the back of my eyelids and tears threaten to fall.
Now isn’t the time for weakness. I need to be strong for Franny.
We make it to the security gates, and I curse at the sight.
One of my men is hanging from the railing.
This explains how Ashton knew we were planning to escape.
Francesca lets out a gasp, and I know she’s seen the body.
I need to get her away from here and to the safe house to have her foot looked at.
I chance a glance over at her, to find her body shaking with the tears that continue to fall.
Her attention hasn’t left the house, as though she is hoping for a glimpse of Kennedy in the middle of the night.
My hand gently rubs across her back as I try to keep the car safely on the road.
Once the property is completely out of view, she folds her body over in the passenger seat, silently sobbing into her hands.
“Franny, baby, wh-what did Ashton mean when he said you knew the deal?” I ask cautiously.
She sits up, looking at me through teary eyes, and my heart breaks further at her pain.
“Michael, Kennedy is your daughter,” she chokes out another sob. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, but he threatened to murder me and Kennedy if I didn’t keep his secret.”
My foot presses harder on the gas, gunning us down the dark road.
My eyes flicker to the rearview, checking for headlights following us.
I know she needs my comfort, but right now all that I can process is the fact that I just left my daughter with The Murderous Manic.
My hand reaches over for hers, the only reassurance I can offer in this moment of unease.
The next hour in the car is filled with silence broken up only by Francesca’s soft sobs.
My hands ache from gripping the steering wheel so tight.
I’ve fantasized every possible way that I could kill Ashton Rose, and I’m determined to find a way to make it happen.
We’ve driven far enough into the night without a hint that we are being followed.
I pull over into the first well-lit hotel we come across, but I don’t kill the engine.
“Say it again, Francesca.” My voice comes out rougher than I mean for it to.
“Kennedy’s yours,” she whispers back at me.
“You said earlier that Ashton threatened to kill you if you didn’t keep his secret. What was the secret? That she was actually mine?” I prod for more information, needing to understand this situation we’ve found ourselves in.
“Ashton can’t have kids. He knew in the hospital that Kennedy wasn’t his.
The deal was that I keep his secret and I can live after my infidelity, but also, I was able to keep Kennedy from his training a little while longer.
” Her voice is timid, as though I’m a bomb on the verge of exploding.
“I don’t regret making the deal and keeping us alive, but I do regret not telling you sooner.
I know you would’ve helped, but I wasn’t ready to put us in danger. ”
My head drops to my hands, and I allow the tears that I’ve been holding back to fall. Damn the need to be strong when the greatest news of my life happens to come on the worst day of my existence. Kennedy was mine and I just lost her.
We don’t stay in the hotel parking lot for long.
Once my emotions are under control, I’m able to quickly clean and patch the flesh wound on Francesca’s foot.
During our stop we decide to stick with our original plan to make it to the checkpoint where our new security will be waiting for us.
We’re taking a chance, since it could be compromised like my men back at the compound, but it’s our only option.
This will give us time to switch cars and have people available to drive us through the night to the safe house.
From there we can rest and figure out what our next steps should be.
I thought Francesca had fallen asleep, but as I look over, I find that she’s watching me.
It’s not in me to be mad at her. Anger is the emotion that I’ve turned on myself.
We were regularly fucking and I had my thoughts, but I never pressed the issue.
It didn’t matter if she was Ashton’s, I had every intention of treating Kennedy like my own.
“Michael, I’m sorry.” Her voice is quiet. “I was scared of what Ashton would do to us. It took so long to gain the courage to leave, I wanted us to avoid this danger.”
My hand reaches over to hold hers. She squeezes it, searching for the reassurance that we are okay.
“Deep down I knew she was yours before he told me he couldn’t have children.
Then as she grew, I noticed so much of you in her.
” She spills her thoughts, words that I wish she’d trusted me with years ago, but I understand the need to keep your family safe.
I can’t fault her for doing what she believed was right.
Her tears begin falling again. All I can think about is the amount of time I’ve spent studying the face of my baby girl with wonder.
“Shit.” I scrub my hand down my face. The adrenaline of the night is waning.
With all the pieces to the puzzle, Ashton’s declaration to make us pay makes sense. He has watched how we’ve all poured love into that little girl and knows what the wound of her absence in our lives would cause.
“He really took her,” she sniffles. “He knew that threatening to murder me wouldn’t be enough punishment for my betrayal, so he took the one thing I was living for.”
“Franny, we will get her back. Kathy is there. She’ll look after her and Nathan until we can get to her,” I say, attempting to convince her and myself.
“How long, Michael? How long until he spins a story making us the villains or worse?”
There’s no predicting the movements of a madman. I won’t say it out loud, but my priority at this moment is keeping Francesca safe. She won’t be involved in trying to get Kennedy back. That’s my job. My mess to clean up.
“Let’s get to the safe house and start working on a plan.”
One Month Later – Texas 2005
How do you recover from a broken heart? It’s a lesson that’s only taught in real time and not something that you can prepare for. Can a broken heart heal when the cause of the affliction is constantly being dangled in front of you?
I stare out the tinted windows of my SUV, the view of headstones in front of me.
A cluster of people meet around an open grave mourning a woman who is still alive.
Francesca and I didn’t know what Ashton’s next move would be, but it never occurred to us that he would kill her off.
Keeping true to his word, he is continuing to twist the knife from afar.
My fists clench with the need to walk across the space between us and beat the shit out of him, but I can’t expose myself.
It’s already a risk being here. When I received intel that this was what Ashton was planning, I needed to witness it for myself.
It’s also an opportunity to see Kennedy with my own eyes.
I scan the crowd, seeking out the little head of wild curls.
My gaze locks on my Kennedy, her and Nathan clutching tightly to Kathy, both visibly upset.
My anger reaches new heights seeing the effects of Ashton convincing my daughter that her mother is dead.
There’s a pounding in my ears, my heart racing with the rage coursing through my body. The bit of relief I felt at Kennedy appearing unharmed becomes overshadowed by the emotional damage actively being caused. I tap my driver’s arm, signaling him to pull away; I’ve seen all that I can handle.
How do I explain this to Francesca?
I made a promise that I would keep her in the loop when it came to anything related to Kennedy, and she deserves to know about this.
Internally, I wrestle with telling her because I’ve lost so much of that fiery woman I love.
Since the night we left the Rose compound she has become a shell of the person she was, fully succumbing to depression.
Each new piece of devastating news chips away at the woman I met ten years ago on her wedding night.
If circumstances were different, I would probably be right there beside her in that grief.
The agonizing pain of this won’t allow me to take the time to process, but I can still find a solution and get my daughter back.
We pull into the airfield and park right outside the private plane that will take us to the island we’ve been hiding on for the past month.
There were connections I made in my life that allowed me to secure safe travels, but anxiety follows me everywhere.
I can’t let my guard down knowing someone could betray me on Ashton’s behalf.
My heart doesn’t calm down until we’ve taken off and are above the clouds, away from danger.
This past month has been a journey to say the least. In the planning before we left, I secured a beach house on an island not known to many.
Francesca doesn’t leave the island, as everything we could need is there, but this trip is my first of many to the mainland.
We realized quickly that if I was going to go after Kennedy, I would need to build my own name in the criminal world.
Be as ruthless as Ashton, become a thorn in his side until I find a way to my girl.
I take a deep breath and begin planning out how to gently update Francesca that Kennedy is safe but is being made to believe she’s dead.
What could possibly be Ashton’s end game with telling this to Kennedy?
Is this all to make her fall in line with the training to take over the empire? All we can do now is wait.
The sizzle of food greets me as I enter our new home.
I kick off my shoes at the door before scooping them up and going in search of Francesca.
Passing through the kitchen, I spot Maria at the stove.
In a last-minute decision, Francesca’s mother decided to go on the run with us.
The tension between Maria and I has reached a fever pitch, but having her here means I’m not leaving Francesca alone when I need to handle business.
“How is she today?” I ask, hoping that Franny is having a good day.
Maria turns, assessing me with the narrowed gaze she seems to reserve just for me. She doesn’t like me and I don’t fault her for that. My good intentions have driven her only child into a–hopefully temporary–mute state and left her only grandchild trapped with a psychotic drug lord.
“Well, she didn’t fight the idea of bathing and getting herself ready for the day, but she’s spent most of her time writing in that journal,” she answers dismissively. “Did you see Kennedy?”
Her eyes light up with fragile hope.
“Yes. She was with Kathy and Nathan. They all looked safe and healthy,” I answer honestly.
“What aren’t you telling me?” she prods, seeing right through my carefully crafted words.
“I need to speak with Francesca first,” I say, moving past the island to the staircase.
“Michael!” she snaps.
I pause, dropping my head, not wanting to give her more bad news and additional reasons to hate me. But in the end, the desire to ignore her and keep walking doesn’t override the need to be truthful.
“Today, Ashton Rose had a funeral for Francesca. Kennedy and Nathan now believe that she is dead,” I say softly. “Francesca deserves to know, but I’m scared of how she will take this news.”
Maria gasps, her eyes widening as her hands go to her mouth. Her reaction makes me even more apprehensive of telling Francesca.
“You can’t tell her,” Maria whispers.