Page 22 of Revealed

“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 wasactually 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 ofwhat 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, wewillget 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 lostso 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.