The Widow's Keeper Read online

  Unease swelled within, and the closer the plane inched to Frankfurt, the more the emotion grew. Her conversation with Eddie left her with more questions than answers. The one answer she did walk away with was everything happening was because of her.

  She wondered if going into hiding was the right thing to do. Her mind flashed to Farah and the mystery person being held somewhere because of her. Would Eddie be able to find them in time? What if they were killed? Like Amir. She thought about her former bodyguard. He loved Farah and would have died for her. Her stomach twisted. And he did. Unlike Amir, she was running away when Farah needed her most. The thought didn’t sit well with her. How many more people would suffer because of her? If there was some way she could make a trade with the kidnappers, her life for theirs, she’d do it in a heartbeat.

  Leanna leaned over and grabbed the cup of coffee out of Ally’s grasp before it spilled. “What’s up?”

  She shrugged, and fixed her gaze at the movie playing on the little screen in front of her. Telling Eddie’s partner in crime her concerns about his plan didn’t seem like a good idea. “Nerves.”

  “Nerves I understand, but…” Leanna squinted and stared at her as if trying to read her mind. “This is different.”

  She picked up the snack bag from her table and pulled it open. “And guilt. I feel like I’m running away.”

  Leanna gave her hand a squeeze. “You’re not. You’re making it easier for Eddie to do what he needs to do.”

  Ally nodded and popped a salty pretzel in her mouth. That’s what she kept telling herself. Only time would tell if they were right.

  She returned her focus to the movie, and thankfully, Leanna didn’t push. In fact, the woman didn’t speak to her again until the plane made its descent to Frankfurt Airport. By the time they taxied down the runway, the relaxed Leanna had changed into a serious one.

  Before they rose to deplane, the escort handed her a cell. “Keep this on you at all times. Under no circumstances are we allowed to get separated. Understood?”

  Ally nodded, slid the device into her jean pocket, and followed the handler off the plane. Tension built with every step she took.

  “There’s an elevator to the right of the escalators. We’re going to take it down.” Leanna twined her fingers through Ally’s as they exited the breezeway into the terminal.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ITALY

  TWO YEARS AND NINE MONTHS POST-RESCUE

  Ally slid into the stone bench and sat cross-legged as she stared at the fountain several yards ahead. In her bag was a travel guide, which explained all the statues in Trevi Fountain and their significance. At some point she’d read it, but for now, she just wanted to enjoy the site. Despite the voices of the hundred or so people around her, the soothing sounds of the water still floated to her ears. Ally admired the giant sculptures of the horses and men and stared in wonder at the perfectly sculpted muscles and features of the figures. Vacationers stood nearby taking turns as they posed for pictures in front of the magnificent stone monument.

  Thick gray clouds loomed overhead, shading the crowd from the afternoon sun. On the white stone benches around her, tourists sat enjoying gelatos and other Italian treats while they chatted. Scattered throughout the piazza were freestanding shops selling souvenirs and goods to eager travelers.

  Young men who appeared to be in their early twenties weaved through the crowds selling roses and other items from the big buckets they carried. The tour guide described them earlier as migrant workers from Bangladesh and other parts of Asia. Her mind floated to thoughts about the boys she’d left behind. They would be sixteen and seventeen by now.

  Since her homecoming, Ally constantly scanned the world around her for men and women with dark hair and varying shades of golden skin. If they remotely resembled the boys, Amir, Farah, or Nasif even, her heart fluttered. She’d rushed to several strangers, calling them by names that were not theirs.

  She shook the thoughts away and focused on the fountain. Memories of her other life were not allowed—not now. She shifted her attention to her melting gelato and scooped another spoonful. She popped the portion into her mouth and closed her eyes, savoring the way the cold, sweet, creamy chocolate dissolved on her tongue.

  “Sara Mommy?”

  Ally sat up as soon as she heard the words. The voice had been male and deep. She scanned the area filled with people for the source but found no one.

  “Mommy!” This time the words were spoken by a child. An adorable little girl about three-years-old. The child lay across the top of the wall of Trevi Fountain, her elbows propped on the marble, and her chin rested on her hands as her parents took pictures. The child smiled and screamed, “Cheese, Mommy!” as her mother clicked away on the cell phone.

  Ally shook her head and went back to enjoying her treat. The triggers had decreased through the years, and she wasn’t going to allow this one to ruin what was probably the best part of the entire trip to Italy. Her, unafraid and alone in the piazza. She sucked in a lungful of Italian air. The sense of accomplishment and pride flowing through her tasted almost as sweet as the gelato melting on her tongue.

  A few minutes later, a man slid onto the bench beside her. She didn’t bother looking over; she knew who it was. Instead, she licked the spoon clean.

  The deal was David would let her “challenge her fears” for thirty minutes at the piazza. Ally didn’t need to check her watch to know it was probably twenty-nine minutes and some seconds by the time he arrived. As much as she played it off to him as a way for her to ease her anxieties, her alone time helped him, too. The idea of her disappearing again wasn’t a fear he’d been able to work through yet, and she knew better than to force him.

  “Dammi un bacio, baby?”

  She chuckled at his awful Italian but didn’t look over. “I’m a married woman. I only kiss my husband.”

  “Aw, but this is Italia. Our kisses and our bodies are works of art.” His bad accent morphed into more of a French one with each word he spoke.

  Ally grinned. “You know, I’ve heard the same.” She filled her spoon with another scoop of gelato. “Which is why I should stick with my husband’s kisses and his body. If I tasted yours, I may never go back.” As she placed the chocolate in her mouth, lightning struck in the distance, flashing a line of pink and red across the sky.

  David slid closer, until their thighs rubbed against each other, and put an arm around her shoulder. “Did you hear that? Even Jupiter wasn’t impressed with your answer.”

  Ally grinned. “It’s all a matter of interpretation. I think he’s agreeing with me.”

  He planted soft kisses against her cheek, warming her skin with each peck. “You know the Dimarchi family is originally from Italy.”

  Ally leaned her head over, letting him trail tiny kisses up her neck.

  “Which means you’ve more than tasted the Italian Kool-Aid.”

  She rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder. “Kool-Aid? Really?”

  Another roll of thunder cracked overhead.

  David shrugged. “Okay, bad word choice. Marsala?”

  Ally shook her head and glanced at the dark clouds overhead. Considering they had no umbrella, no car, and the hotel was a twenty-minute brisk walk away, they would need to leave soon.

  “Got it.” He cupped her chin and turned her face toward his, planting a kiss on her lips. “Cappuccino.”

  She laughed into his mouth. “Perfect, but we’d better get out of here before your Italian cappuccino gets drenched.”

  His eyes widened and his grin grew exponentially. “I love the way you think.”

  Ally tipped his chin, forcing him to look up at the dark skies overhead. “I have no idea where your dirty mind went, but I’m talking about the rainstorm.”

  They walked out of the piazza hand in hand toward their hotel as large beads of rain fell from the heavens. Five minutes into the walk, the drops transformed into a downpour, drenching them both. David pulled them under the narrow awni
ng of a nearby hotel. Ally’s back pressed against the wall. While the roof sheltered her, his back half was still getting drenched. She pressed herself against the surface and tugged him in close. “Squeeze in, there’s room.”

  He kept a hand on the wall on either side of her head and looked down at her. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

  Her cheeks heated. The weather in Rome the past few days had been hot. Since most of the Roman women had dressed sans bra, she decided to do the same and even put on the thickest, darkest colored tee she had just to be safe. The one thing she hadn’t anticipated? A rainstorm. Now, as she tugged on the wet fabric of her navy shirt, she regretted her decision.

  “This is a great time for us to work on your breast desensitization.”

  She laughed and put her hands around his neck. “I don’t need breast desensitization anymore.”

  “Well I do, and seeing as how we’re stuck here with nothing else to do, why not?”

  If her lack of undergarments was visible to him, it would be visible to everyone else who walked by. Ally leaned her head to the side and looked past him. “Or we can look for cabs.”

  “I can’t believe in all these years, I’ve never seen you in a wet shirt.”

  Considering they were standing next to a hotel, hopeful taxi drivers should have been parked along the front doors ready for tourists. But of course, when she needed it, there wasn’t a single one to be found.

  She bit her lip and considered her options. “Maybe we should go inside and ask for them to call us one?”

  “Have I ever told you of the first erotic dream I ever had about you?”

  She rolled her eyes and slapped his neck. “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Not one word.” He shook his head and leaned in until his mouth brushed against her ear when he spoke. “You were standing shoulder deep in a pond. And when you started walking out of the water, all you had on was a white T-shirt and nothing else. Your nipples poked out. They looked like they do now.”

  Ally closed her eyes, savoring the heat of his breath and the way his words warmed all parts of her. “David Spencer Dimarchi, you need to focus.”

  “Trust me, I am.”

  A year ago, if he had her backed up against the wall, talking about her breasts, it would have ended with her shoving him and running. And although there were still a lot of things to work on, many of the triggers had diminished, and it was because of him. Even now, as his hands found their way to her rear and his lips pressed against her neck, there was no doubt in her mind he was reading her cues. If her fingers weren’t tugging at his hair, and if she wasn’t arching her chest into his, or if she said no, he would step back and never question it. That was one of the million things she loved about him.

  Ally pressed her back against the wall and crossed her arms, pretending to glare at him. “Are you done? Can we go inside now?”

  A slow smile stretched across his face. “First of all, crossing your arms lifts them higher for me to admire.” He pointed down at his tented shorts. “And second, we now have another problem.”

  Ally covered her nipples with her hands, eliciting a groan out of her husband.

  “You’re reenacting a whole other erotic dream of mine.”

  “I’m trying to warm them.” She studied the unrelenting storm behind him. They’d be stuck in the same spot for a while if they didn’t go in and ask for a cab. But first, some things needed to be deflated. “Do you remember the old lady with the hair sticking out of her nipple? Describe the hair to me.”

  An hour later, Ally lay naked, chest down, on an equally naked David in their hotel bed. Her cheek pressed against the curls of his chest as he ran his fingers up and down her spine. Neither spoke. They savored the silence and their connection. Life was better than she’d ever thought it could be again. She used to believe she didn’t deserve to be happy—not after the life she’d lived. Ally let out a sigh.

  “I’ll take that as a sigh of approval.”

  She grinned. “I could be thinking about the sexy young cab driver who brought us home.”

  “Whatever. I guarantee you the driver couldn’t have made you scream the way I did. He’s not skilled in the Ally ways.”

  She sucked in a lungful of his cologne, musky with hints of cedar. “You’re right. He’ll never be my Italian Kool-Aid.”

  “Exactly.”

  Ally smiled and let out another sigh.

  “So what’s next on the list, oh sexy one?” he asked softly.

  She pulled herself up and flashed him a questioning look. David’s focus went straight to her breasts, which currently brushed against his chest.

  “Really?”

  “What?” He pulled his gaze away and looked into her eyes with a guilty smile. “They’re beautiful.”

  “What list?”

  He shrugged. “The one we never talk about.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “I don’t have a list,” she lied.

  He rolled his eyes and rested his head back on the pillow. “Of course not. So, let’s go over this nonexistent list. Going jogging in the park alone every morning while your husband paces the living room.” David stuck his finger in the air and made a check mark. “Driving around town by yourself.” Again, his finger swooshed in the air. “Mind-blowing sex. Triple check.” This time he air-checked multiple times.

  She slid off him, planted her feet on the cold marble, and began picking up their wet discards from off the floor as he went through the list.

  “Going back to work. Check. Going on vacation and fulfilling your husband’s wet T-shirt erotic fantasy. A big, beautiful check.”

  Ally paused mid-cleanup and looked over at him. Aside from his hand, the rest of him hadn’t moved. “Big beautiful, huh?”

  “The stuff that good porn is made of – beautiful.”

  She pitched his wet shirt at his face and headed to the bathroom.

  The bed creaked and soon his feet thumped along the floor as he approached. David leaned against the bathroom counter, his wet shirt in hand. “Well, I’m assuming because I’ve never watched any”—he flashed a guilty grin—“so I really wouldn’t know the difference between good and bad porn.”

  She shook her head and started hanging wet fabric over the shower pole to dry. He knew her well; she did have goals, and accomplishing one led to the next bigger one. She smiled at all the things he listed. Those were huge accomplishments, and she’d done them all. Now it was time for her biggest one yet.

  He hung his shirt on the shower pole beside hers.

  She side-eyed him and cleared her throat. “So you know the checklist?”

  “You mean the non-existent one?” David grabbed his boxers from her arm and worked on hanging them.

  She leaned against the wall and chewed on her lip. “Yeah, that one.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Ally sucked in a breath. “I want us to have a baby.”

  David didn’t answer at first. He sat on the edge of the shower and looked up at her. “You want us to have a baby?”

  She nodded as he clasped and unclasped his hands.

  “It wasn’t that long ago when everything scared you. Now we’re finally in a good place. One we both like. A baby would screw it all up.”

  Ally sat beside him and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. “He or she might also make it better. Make our union even stronger.”

  He stared at the mirror in front of them, locking eyes with her through the reflection. “How much more united can we get? And more importantly, why do you really want a baby?”

  She shifted in her seat. “The same reason all women want a baby, and you asked what was on my list.” She didn’t say the rest because she knew he wouldn’t like it. A part of her didn’t think she was destined for happiness and having a baby would finally put the fear to rest. And the other part, she hoped it would fill the void she’d had since losing Farah, Nassif, Umber, and the boys.

  “A baby sounds great on paper, it really does. But the sleeples
s nights, the ‘it’s your turn to clean the shit in their ass’ arguments. It’s a whole new set of problems we’ll have to survive.”

  “After everything we’ve gone through, there’s nothing we can’t handle. You know that.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “And imagine if we had a little boy like you.”

  He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, contemplating the question. “A mini me?”

  In the mirror, she could have sworn she saw his lips twitch. She smiled. She knew him well. “Yeah, a boy like you, brown hair, green eyes, running around drooling at women with wet T-shirts. Or a mini me for that matter?”

  He rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling. “She’d never leave the house. Ever.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  GERMANY

  FOUR MONTHS POST-DAVID

  Sweat dampened the back of Ally’s neck as her hands shook. While Leanna scanned the space, she found herself doing the same. On either side of them were gates filled with travelers. Some sat in chairs, others stood in line waiting to board their flights, and still others, like them, exited their gates. A woman’s voice on the intercom announced flights in English and then proceeded to repeat the announcement in German.

  Leanna led them through the terminals to the main hall where shops and restaurants lined the walls. They weaved their way through clumps of distracted travelers and rolling suitcases.

  A few yards before the escalators was a coffee shop. The line of people waiting for their turn to order stretched out of the tiny store. Positioned beside the shop was one of the airport’s many bathrooms, except this one had a bright yellow “OUT OF ORDER” barrier written in multiple languages, blocking its entrance. A cleaning cart sat next to the sign. A janitor, a man with brown hair, in teal blue scrub pants, a white long-sleeved polo, and a bright orange vest, mopped the floor in front of the space.