Revealed: The Missing Years
Page 3
It wasn’t until he saw the utter hatred in Catherine’s gray eyes that he felt Nathaniel’s words deep in his soul. How could he have trusted Catherine for so long? How could he have willingly placed Claire in her clutches? How didn’t he see what Catherine had seen all along?
One thing was obvious. Tony needed to keep his family safe and away from Catherine Marie London.
Unfortunately, the clarity that revealed itself on that March afternoon didn’t show Tony a safe and secure family. No, when his eyes were finally opened and he saw his lifelong friend as the monster she truly was—as a monster not only capable of killing his parents, but capable of killing his best friend—fate also showed him the two women in the entire world for whom he’d unquestionably, unequivocally, and unthinkingly lay down his life to save, and they needed him. Only moments earlier, he’d been searching the smoky hallways for Sophia Burke, until he heard Claire’s voice. For an instant he prayed that it was his imagination, but then he heard her again. Tony didn’t know why his wife was yelling; however, as he raced down the slippery marble floors toward his office, the why of her words wasn’t as important as the why of her presence. Why was she there? She was supposed to be safe with Courtney. They’d agreed upon that.
Opening the door to his office, Tony’s world clarified and collapsed. Terror like he’d never known filled his being when he realized that it wasn’t only his wife in the presence of Catherine—no, Claire had Nichol in her arms. Tony would have done anything to reverse time, put them back in paradise, and keep his family from this horror. His deep threatening voice stilled whatever Catherine had been saying. “My God, Claire! Why are you here? Get out, the house is on fire!”
Her taut expression morphed to relief as their eyes met. “Oh, you’re safe. I was so afraid.”
The rush of the sprinkler system muted the sound of panicked voices in the distance, while intensifying Nichol’s cries. From the safe harbor of her mother’s arms, their daughter’s pleas for attention grew above the commotion. Within seconds, Claire’s relief changed once again. It was fear. Tony had witnessed fear in her emerald eyes before and without warning he saw it again. Following her line of vision, Tony saw the small handgun Catherine now wielded in her steady grasp. The open drawer indicated that it had come from his desk. In a moment of utter confusion, Tony wondered why or how there could be a gun in his desk. He didn’t like guns, never had. That was why he hired security. There was no reason to own a gun unless you were willing to use it. However, at that moment, Tony knew he was more than willing to use it. He’d rather kill Catherine with his bare hands, but for speed’s sake, he’d gladly use the gun. He also knew that there was no way he’d allow Catherine to be the one to pull the trigger. He needed to get Claire and Nichol out of the house. “Get out; get Nichol out!” he screamed.
As Claire moved to obey, Catherine turned toward Tony with a malicious grin and asked, “Nichol? Nichol? You named a Rawls Nichol?”
Instead of answering, he used her distraction to knock the gun from her hand, sending it flying toward Claire and Nichol. When it landed near Claire’s feet, Tony commanded, “Claire, get the gun!”
Did his words refocus Catherine’s attention? He didn’t know; however, in a microsecond Catherine was scurrying toward Claire and the gun. Without thinking, Tony dove forward. As he neared the women, he realized that Catherine wasn’t going after the gun: she’d pulled a crying Nichol from Claire’s arms. The earlier clarity glowed with new radiance. His daughter’s safety was paramount to everything else. Momentarily forgetting the gun, Tony’s strong hands steadied as he secured Nichol’s small, wet, blanket-covered body and pulled her toward his chest. Though Catherine grappled for control, she was no match for Tony’s strength and determination.
With their daughter once again safe in his arms, Tony looked to Claire with reassurance as Phil came into view. Tony hadn’t seen him enter the office, yet Phil’s intention was clear as he neared Claire, whose gaze was fixed on Catherine, completely unaware of Phil’s presence. The gun in her grasp shook violently as she lifted the barrel toward Catherine who stood in front of Tony and Nichol. Phil’s soothing tone was barely audible over the mayhem. Reaching for the gun, he said, “Claire, it’s all right. Give me the gun.”
Placing a hand on Claire’s shoulder, Phil reached for the gun at the exact moment their world exploded with a flash and a bang. Tony instinctively twisted away in an effort to protect Nichol, as Catherine fell backward, toppling the three of them onto the wet carpet. The room filled with people, and footsteps rushed toward them.
“Claire! Claire!” Tony screamed as he assessed Nichol, made it to his knees, and fought to get to his wife. Easing himself and Nichol away from Catherine’s body as she twisted and moaned, Tony’s dark eyes searched through the smoke and artificial rain. He called out again, “Claire!”
Tony needed to get to Claire and let her know that he and Nichol were all right. He wanted to touch her and hold her, to hold both of his ladies and have them safe in his embrace. He saw her across the room, lying limp where only seconds earlier she’d been standing. Tony and Phil both rushed to her side. With Nichol still in his arms, Tony picked up the gun. Suddenly, the room filled with people.
“Help me! They tried to kill me!” Catherine’s voice begged for attention.
Tony ran his hand over Claire’s cheek.
One thing was obvious. Tony needed to keep his family safe and away from Catherine Marie London.
Unfortunately, the clarity that revealed itself on that March afternoon didn’t show Tony a safe and secure family. No, when his eyes were finally opened and he saw his lifelong friend as the monster she truly was—as a monster not only capable of killing his parents, but capable of killing his best friend—fate also showed him the two women in the entire world for whom he’d unquestionably, unequivocally, and unthinkingly lay down his life to save, and they needed him. Only moments earlier, he’d been searching the smoky hallways for Sophia Burke, until he heard Claire’s voice. For an instant he prayed that it was his imagination, but then he heard her again. Tony didn’t know why his wife was yelling; however, as he raced down the slippery marble floors toward his office, the why of her words wasn’t as important as the why of her presence. Why was she there? She was supposed to be safe with Courtney. They’d agreed upon that.
Opening the door to his office, Tony’s world clarified and collapsed. Terror like he’d never known filled his being when he realized that it wasn’t only his wife in the presence of Catherine—no, Claire had Nichol in her arms. Tony would have done anything to reverse time, put them back in paradise, and keep his family from this horror. His deep threatening voice stilled whatever Catherine had been saying. “My God, Claire! Why are you here? Get out, the house is on fire!”
Her taut expression morphed to relief as their eyes met. “Oh, you’re safe. I was so afraid.”
The rush of the sprinkler system muted the sound of panicked voices in the distance, while intensifying Nichol’s cries. From the safe harbor of her mother’s arms, their daughter’s pleas for attention grew above the commotion. Within seconds, Claire’s relief changed once again. It was fear. Tony had witnessed fear in her emerald eyes before and without warning he saw it again. Following her line of vision, Tony saw the small handgun Catherine now wielded in her steady grasp. The open drawer indicated that it had come from his desk. In a moment of utter confusion, Tony wondered why or how there could be a gun in his desk. He didn’t like guns, never had. That was why he hired security. There was no reason to own a gun unless you were willing to use it. However, at that moment, Tony knew he was more than willing to use it. He’d rather kill Catherine with his bare hands, but for speed’s sake, he’d gladly use the gun. He also knew that there was no way he’d allow Catherine to be the one to pull the trigger. He needed to get Claire and Nichol out of the house. “Get out; get Nichol out!” he screamed.
As Claire moved to obey, Catherine turned toward Tony with a malicious grin and asked, “Nichol? Nichol? You named a Rawls Nichol?”
Instead of answering, he used her distraction to knock the gun from her hand, sending it flying toward Claire and Nichol. When it landed near Claire’s feet, Tony commanded, “Claire, get the gun!”
Did his words refocus Catherine’s attention? He didn’t know; however, in a microsecond Catherine was scurrying toward Claire and the gun. Without thinking, Tony dove forward. As he neared the women, he realized that Catherine wasn’t going after the gun: she’d pulled a crying Nichol from Claire’s arms. The earlier clarity glowed with new radiance. His daughter’s safety was paramount to everything else. Momentarily forgetting the gun, Tony’s strong hands steadied as he secured Nichol’s small, wet, blanket-covered body and pulled her toward his chest. Though Catherine grappled for control, she was no match for Tony’s strength and determination.
With their daughter once again safe in his arms, Tony looked to Claire with reassurance as Phil came into view. Tony hadn’t seen him enter the office, yet Phil’s intention was clear as he neared Claire, whose gaze was fixed on Catherine, completely unaware of Phil’s presence. The gun in her grasp shook violently as she lifted the barrel toward Catherine who stood in front of Tony and Nichol. Phil’s soothing tone was barely audible over the mayhem. Reaching for the gun, he said, “Claire, it’s all right. Give me the gun.”
Placing a hand on Claire’s shoulder, Phil reached for the gun at the exact moment their world exploded with a flash and a bang. Tony instinctively twisted away in an effort to protect Nichol, as Catherine fell backward, toppling the three of them onto the wet carpet. The room filled with people, and footsteps rushed toward them.
“Claire! Claire!” Tony screamed as he assessed Nichol, made it to his knees, and fought to get to his wife. Easing himself and Nichol away from Catherine’s body as she twisted and moaned, Tony’s dark eyes searched through the smoke and artificial rain. He called out again, “Claire!”
Tony needed to get to Claire and let her know that he and Nichol were all right. He wanted to touch her and hold her, to hold both of his ladies and have them safe in his embrace. He saw her across the room, lying limp where only seconds earlier she’d been standing. Tony and Phil both rushed to her side. With Nichol still in his arms, Tony picked up the gun. Suddenly, the room filled with people.
“Help me! They tried to kill me!” Catherine’s voice begged for attention.
Tony ran his hand over Claire’s cheek.
