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“Your mother is gone, doll, and we made it through the aftermath. It is our time. You and I. Catherine played her role to exactness, reveling in the power she believed she had.” He smiled at that. “She has taken the blame to her grave.”
The police reports said Catherine Oliver was shot in the back by one of her own men. Father had forwarded the information to Elizabeth. Had he instructed one of the guards to take that shot? She was certain he had, and he’d shared the proof with her. Another threat. He could claim he trusted her, but Benjamin trusted no one but the devil who inspired him.
“We are rising together, the phoenix from your mother’s ashes. You and I are left with allegiances, power, and extreme wealth. Nothing and no one can stop us.”
He paused, and she nodded eagerly. Her voice wouldn’t work as panic pressed on her chest, making her short of breath.
“Everything I do is for you, doll. Come November, you will win the race for senate and soon you will be the first female president.” He patted her cheek in that terrifying and condescending way he had. “I will advise you every step of the way.”
Of course he would. She couldn’t sneeze without his permission.
“Thank you, Father, for believing in me,” she said like the robot she was.
“If your brother and sister cannot support you on your path, we will have no choice but to make them into martyrs for our cause.”
“I’m certain I can gain their support,” she managed, her palms clammy against his and her pulse point revealing how quick her heart was beating. She couldn’t control it, and she wasn’t certain of anything. Could she gain their trust and warn them? Quaid wouldn’t even want to speak to her.
Father released her left hand and traced the thrumming pulse in her neck. She shivered, and his smile grew. He knew she was quietly terrified and reveled in it.
If only she was terrified of what he would do to her. Sadly, it was what he would do to Quaid and his innocent and benevolent wife Anna, and Jacey and her strong cowboy husband Cade.
Please! she yelled in her mind at an uncaring heaven as she smiled at her duplicitous father. You allowed my brother and sister to escape and Mother be killed. Why? Simply to taunt them with freedom and happiness and then yank it away?
How could heaven be so cruel and allow this duplicitous beast to win over and over again?
If her father was scheming how to use Jacey and Quaid or kill them, Elizabeth couldn’t rely on heaven. She had never been able to. She had to come up with a plan to stop him and protect them.
She stayed erect, though she disintegrated inside. The only hope she had was that Jacey and Quaid would believe whatever cryptic message she attempted to convey and hide themselves in Ittoqqortoormiit, Greenland, the most remote mountain village in the world, surrounded by sea ice, for the rest of their lives. She’d seen that safe spot on a magazine cover, listed with isolated locations as Antarctica, Point Nemo, and Easter Island. She’d longed to escape to Greenland with Hays for many years. She and her Superman could live near an icy sea, keep each other warm, and never need anything but each other.
Safety. Happiness. Love. They would never be hers. Thankfully, Hays was not on her father’s radar. She’d waited anxiously the past fourteen years for her father to exploit her weakness and longing for Hays, but so far Hays had stayed safe. As safe as a Navy SEAL could be. Much safer than in her father’s grasp.
Elizabeth wished she could turn to a humble yet brave and tough man like Hays. A trustworthy man. Sadly, she had no resources or trusted associates of her own. Her father controlled everything.
And she was his obedient ‘doll.’
If she didn’t figure out how to warn Quaid and Jacey, they’d be in his power again as well.
Chapter
Two
Elizabeth clutched her hands together to control the trembling. Her pulse point was going like mad, but her father wasn’t here to smile about it or touch it. That was a freedom she hadn’t felt in years.
Peter studied her from the seat next to hers, sucking any thought of freedom right out of her head. She pretended she didn’t notice and glanced around at the picturesque valley her sister now called home. Montana. It was stunning. She’d traveled with her mother and father often, but usually only to cities. The forested mountain range and blue sky was unfamiliar, appealing, and overwhelming in its beauty.
The vehicles pulled to a stop near a charming two-story wood cabin. At least fifty people milled around on the grass. All were focused on the two expensive SUVs carrying her and seven guards. She was accustomed to being the center of attention. It was seeing Jacey and Quaid again and putting them in danger that had her nervous. How would they react? How would she? More importantly, how would she keep them safe?
All right, she commanded herself. You have greeted royalty, politicians, and dignitaries. You deal with Father’s demented chess game every day. Exude the confidence and calm you have cultivated for years.
Peter barked a command. The guards unloaded from the vehicles but waited for him. He strode around, opened her door, and extended his hand. Elizabeth had to act unaffected and place her hand in his. The touch of his strong hand chilled her clear through. She’d watched this monster torture and kill people. She would never reveal her fear to him.
She instantly noticed all the sidearms on the ‘guests’ at this party. Were they prepared for her guards? She wasn’t certain if the fact these cowboys were armed was reassuring or if it would escalate a battle Quaid and Jacey’s friends would never win.
A handsome, smiling cowboy broke away from the crowd and angled for her, sticking out his hand. “Easton Coleville, ma’am. It is an honor.”
Her eyes widened, and she nodded and offered her hand. This Coleville cowboy was brave but foolhardy. Possibly too young to be scarred by life or love yet, or maybe in this picturesque spot young men weren’t manipulated and tortured by their families but raised with fresh air, hard work, and love. She’d heard of tales like that from classmates at Yale. Hays had a loving family. She’d pried details out of him about his parents, siblings, and home. Even with the one man she’d trusted and loved, she had skirted the topic or given the trained answers about her family and how loving and perfect they were.
She placed her hand in Easton Coleville’s and shook it, firm enough to be taken seriously and never be underestimated, soft enough to disarm him with her feminine qualities and instill protective male instincts. As with everything she said or did, her father had coached her for years.
