Broken Angels (39 page)

This was it—home, family. This was what life was all about. She was no longer on the outside looking in. This time she was smack in the middle of it. Time had started moving again, and the future was ripe with possibilities, especially now that everything was official.

The hearing to establish guardianship had been held that morning. Judge McIntyre—a stern-looking woman in her early sixties, with silver hair that perfectly matched her piercing gray eyes—had questioned her and Zach for over an hour. As always, Zach had handled the interrogation with impressive aplomb. She, on the other hand, had fumbled through her answers.

“You and Mr. Ryler were married for eight years,” the judge had stated. “But you never had children. Am I to presume you didn’t want any?”

“Of course I wanted children,” she’d muttered. “I’ve always wanted children. We tried. We couldn’t.”

“And two years ago you were divorced.”

“Yes.”

“And how, may I ask, do you intend to raise these children apart?”

Breath-smothering silence had followed. “Well, we’re— What I mean to say is—”

“We’ve reconciled,” Zach had answered for her. That had cinched it for the judge, and she’d promptly signed off on the guardianship.

Now, as Rebecca met Zach’s gaze across the bustling room, she wondered what he’d meant by that. She knew they’d gotten back together for the sake of these kids, but had it grown into something more? Did he want to put everything on the line and try again? Did she?

The kids left a horrific mess behind—paper plates smeared with cake and icing, cups of grape juice knocked over on the pristine white tablecloth, heaps of discarded napkins. Still, Rebecca couldn’t help but smile.

When the children scrambled out to play, Voula and Tess helped Rebecca clean up. The guys followed the kids outside. It seemed no one was ready to let them out of their sight quite yet.

“The food was incredible,” Rebecca told Voula. “Thanks for doing this. Kristen’s having a blast.”

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s my pleasure. Like I said, these three are like grandkids to me. The first of many I hope.” There was a twinkle in the woman’s eyes, an excitement that piqued Rebecca’s curiosity.

“Voula, is there something you’re not telling me?”

Voula continued emptying plates in the trashcan, looking like a cat with a fat canary in her mouth. Even Tess noticed and crowded in to get the scoop. “I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone,” she admitted guiltily. “My daughter wants to wait till after the first trimester to spread the news, but if I don’t say something I’ll explode. She’s pregnant!”

In the past, news like this would have knocked Rebecca off her feet, and not in a good way. But that didn’t happen this time. Instead, she surprised herself by feeling an overwhelming joy for this kindhearted woman who’d longed for grandchildren with an ardency Rebecca understood all too well. She stopped washing the dishes and went to hug her. “That’s wonderful news,” she said and meant it. “I’m very happy for you.”

“Congratulations,” Tess added, putting aside the large platter she’d finished drying.

And just like that, one small change at a time, life continued its inexorable tumble forward.

“Things are moving forward,” Pat said as he stretched out on a lawn chair. “The DA’s office is working with Interpol and the OSCE to nail the bastards that did this to Noah and Kristen. Caught over a dozen of them already. All small fish unfortunately, but we’re hoping they’ll talk, give us something we can really sink our teeth into.”

Zach nodded his approval. “Glad to hear it. It’ll help me sleep at night to know these so-called Broken Angels won’t be snatching another kid anytime soon.” The children’s faces were still imprinted on his mind. Every day he wondered what had become of them. Every night he saw their pleading expressions in his dreams. He’d reach out to help them, but they’d just as quickly turn to fog and disappear.

“I thought this kind of thing only happened in foreign countries.” Martin came to sit beside them.

“A myth.” Pat’s features hardened to ice. “This sort of thing goes on under our noses all the time. Human trafficking is the second-largest illegal trade after drug trafficking. It’s also the fastest-growing criminal industry with global revenues to the tune of forty-two billion dollars. The sad part is that most Americans don’t have a clue. They think because they don’t live in a third-world country their children are safe, but they’re dead wrong. No one is safe.”

Pat leaned forward, stared at the kids playing with carefree abandon and shook his head. “Usually, kids are shipped to the U.S. instead of out,” he explained. “But every so often, like now, an organized group of thugs decides to use it as a source country. There’s a very high demand for Caucasian children right here in the U.S. How many childless couples are willing to pay an arm and a leg to adopt?”

Zach knew the answer to that question better than anyone. He’d seen the way Becca’s desperation for a child had torn her apart. If she’d voiced a desire to adopt, he would have done anything to make her wish come true, even pay through his nose.

“Then there’s the sex trade, not to mention the organ trade,” Pat continued, oblivious to the dark turn the conversation had taken. “The older children are either shipped to foreign countries, where they’re sexually exploited or harvested for their organs.”

Martin suddenly stood. “I think I need a beer.” Seconds later, he vanished inside the house.

“Looks like you rattled him,” Zach observed.

“Just saying it like it is. Can’t turn a blind eye to what’s happening. That’s why so many kids are in danger.”

Zach steepled his fingers and continued gazing at his kids with an odd blend of pride and possessiveness. “There’s still something I don’t get. How did Neil Hopkins manage to run a law firm and a kidnapping ring all at once?”

Naked interest flared in Pat’s eyes. He really was obsessed with his job. “We think he had an accomplice,” he told him. “Found bits and pieces of him in the grape crusher.”

That sparked Zach’s curiosity. He remembered another man who’d met his end in the grape crusher—Neil Hopkins Sr.—and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was a coincidence. Something primal told him it wasn’t. “Are you sure it was his accomplice and not some poor chump who stumbled into something he shouldn’t have?”

“There was a 9mm SIG among his remains, matches the bullets we pulled from Liam and Lindsay. We also got lucky, managed to lift a partial print from the body. Dead guy’s name was Raymond York, petty thief turned murderer. One of these days I’d really like to show his mug shot to Noah, see if he’s the guy the kid saw that night.”

From a distance Zach studied Noah, who now tossed a ball with Jason. “Not yet. Give him a chance to come to grips with everything that’s happened. The guy’s dead. There’s no use dredging this whole mess up again.” He wouldn’t force Noah to do anything he wasn’t ready to do, not ever again.

The ADA nodded. “If that’s how you feel, I respect it.”

Summer was drawing to an end, but you couldn’t tell by the way the sun cut through the clouds to soak them in heat. Zach reclined in his chair and contented himself with watching Will roll in the grass, Kristen play in the sandbox, Noah grapple with Jason for the ball. A glowing warmth spread through him.

Kids messed you up; there was no question about that. But somewhere amidst the insanity, they carved a path straight to your soul and completed you. Right now that completeness washed over him, imbued him with certainty, and he understood exactly what he needed to do. The realization should have scared him shitless. Instead, it filled him with an electric anticipation that shot through his veins and made every inch of him vibrate.

Somehow he had to make this family solid—permanent—the consequences be damned.

Night fell, a translucent black veil embedded with diamonds. Rebecca was outside, picking up the toys the kids had scattered, with only the porch lights to illuminate her way. A cool breeze stirred, making the trees rustle and the evening come alive.

Zach crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. The act startled her, and she spun around to face him, her hand fisted over her heart. “How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me?”

“I didn’t mean to frighten you. You just looked so…
huggable
.”

“Huggable?”

“For lack of a better word.”

“All right. Hug away.” She stepped into his arms, rejoiced as they tightened around her. It was strange how her skin always thrummed when they touched. So many years later, he still had the same power over her that he’d had when she was an awkward, lovestruck schoolgirl.

Everything had changed, yet so much had stayed the same. The love she’d felt for him back then hadn’t faded. It had only grown stronger.

“Are you looking forward to having a little more time to yourself?” His breath brushed her ear as he spoke, sending tendrils of heat skittering down her neck.

The kids were going back to school next week, and Zach was scheduled to resume work. “Not really. I’m going to miss having everyone around.”

“I guess you’ll just have to find something to do to keep yourself busy.”

She shrugged. “I’m sure Will is going to make sure I don’t get too bored.”

“Yeah, but Will naps most of the afternoon.” There was an unspoken implication in his voice, some conclusion he wanted her to draw.

She wrenched free from his grasp, even as her body uttered a silent protest, and glanced up into his beautiful face. “What is it you’d like me to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe finish that book you started ages ago…or start a new one.”

His words took her by surprise. “I haven’t thought of that in years.”

“Maybe you should.” He pinned her with a meaningful stare.

She tamped down her reservations and considered his suggestion. Did she really have a story to tell? Yes, she concluded, now more than ever, she did. She smiled up at him. “Maybe I will.”

He bracketed her face with his palms. His warmth seeped into her flesh and set her cheeks afire. “Here’s something else you should think about. I know you generally hate to make the same mistake twice, but I hope you’ll make an exception this time.” His eyes deepened to a midnight blue, dark and vulnerable. The emotion she caught within them made the ground drop out from under her, as did his next words, “Marry me again.”

“There’s nothing to think about. I made up my mind about that back when I was twelve.”

He grinned, and his whole face sparkled. Almost as much as the ring he promptly slipped onto her finger.

“I still have my old ring.”

“I want you to have a new one, a symbol of new beginnings, a fresh start.” He trapped one of her curls between his fingers, slowly let it slide out of his grasp. “We’re starting over. And this time we’re gonna make it work.”

She gazed down at the square-cut diamond, mesmerized. “It’s beautiful. Why does it look so familiar?”

“It was my mom’s. My dad gave it to her on their silver wedding anniversary. She would’ve wanted you to have it.”

Emotion pooled in her throat. “I’m honored to wear it.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, slid in close. With a brisk yank, he flattened her to him until every splendid muscle on his chest dug into her breasts. The air squeezed out of her lungs and a gasp tumbled from her lips. Then his mouth found hers, sweet and hot and intoxicating. It turned her spine to rubber, made her insides twist and her pulse roar.

A long-forgotten feeling expanded within her.
Happiness.
She recognized it for what it was, reached out and grabbed it. This time she’d never let it go.

“I love you, Becca.” His soft whisper scraped her ear and made the tender flesh beneath it tingle. “Always have. Always will.”

She hadn’t believed him the first time he’d voiced those words to her, a lifetime ago. This time she did. Believed him with a depth and intensity that shook her to the core. “I love you, too.”

He nestled his chin in the crook of her neck. “How about we start the honeymoon early?”

“I thought we already had.”

He answered by sweeping her off her feet and carrying her back into the house, where their family peacefully slept and the future waited to unfurl before them, an endless ribbon of time radiating with promise.

About the Author

Anne Hope is the author of contemporary, emotionally intense romances with a twist—a twist of humor, a twist of suspense, a twist of magic. All her stories, however, have a common thread. Whether they make you laugh or cry or push you to the edge of your seat, they all feature the redeeming power of love and the heart’s incredible ability to heal.

Anne’s passion for writing began at the age of eight. After penning countless stories about enchanted houses, alien girls with supernatural powers and children constantly getting lost in the woods, she decided to try her hand at romance. She lives in Montreal, Canada, with her husband, her two inexhaustible kids, a lazy cat and a rambunctious Australian Kelpie.

To learn more about Anne Hope, please visit
www.annehope.com
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© 2008 Anne Hope

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