Enraptured (18 page)

“Let me go,” I hissed as I struggled under his weight.

“Tell me I’m wrong!” he raged. “You are the grandest martyr of them all. Pretending to be good, pretending to be loving and faithful, the sweet little victim overrun by an abusive Fullerton. Tell me. Do you plan on stealing my children from me, too?”

I shoved my hands against his chest. “If you want to act like your bastard of a father, I might just have to.”

“Over my dead body,” he promised before he delivered a punishing kiss that reeked of expensive whiskey. “You are mine until death do us part,” he said as he tore at my gown.

“Stop it!” I cried as I tried to get away from him. The day had finally
taken its toll. I ached from my head to my feet, and felt like the entire contents of my stomach would empty right there on the bed. As I struggled to get away from him, a sharp pain whipped around my tummy and landed right in my groin. For a second I couldn’t breathe.

Drew was way past hearing. He pawed at me as he tried to release himself from his pants. Only the red stain on my white gown got through his entitled, drunken, angry stupor. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed
as he stumbled backward. “You’re bleeding.”

I sobbed softly as I held onto my tummy. I couldn’t go through this again. Drew was scared sober as he vaulted off of the bed and reached for his phone. We were
at the hospital within the hour, where I was admitted to labor and delivery to monitor any contractions.

Fortunately there hadn’t been any more cramping since that first whopping pain in the bedroom, but I still
shivered as I lay in bed, dressed only in a thin cotton hospital gown. My teeth chattered, whether from nerves or the IV or the chilly room, I couldn’t be sure. Drew paced nearby and nearly pounced on Dr. Rombach when she entered the room.

“What’s going on? How is she? Are the babies okay?”

She gave him a reassuring smile. “We won’t know everything until we run some tests, but you’re in the best possible place you can be, Mr. Fullerton.” She turned to me and read the readout from the cardiotocograph monitoring the contractions. “So far, so good. The babies’ heartbeats are strong and you haven’t had any more contractions since you were brought in.”

“So it was a contraction?” Drew asked.

“It’s not so uncommon to experience growth contractions around the twenty-second week. The bleeding is obviously more of a concern, since it indicates pre-term labor and we obviously want to keep those babies in the womb as long as we possibly can. We’ll run some tests and get to the root of the problem. In the meantime, try not to worry.”

Her smile did little to reassure us as she exited the room. Tears poured from my face as I recited every prayer I could think of to spare my babies. Drew was likewise a wrec
k. He collapsed into a chair next to the bed. “I did this,” he mumbled. “This is all my fault.” His bloodshot eyes met mine. “I turned into my father. And I knew it and I couldn’t stop it. And now…,” he said, trailing off as he shuddered at what might result from his actions.

“It’s the alcohol, Drew,” I said softly. “It turns you into someone I don’t even know anymore.”

He nodded and a single tear coursed down his face. “Just like him.”

“You are not your father,” I corrected. “Your father wouldn’t have stopped.”

With a guttural moan he sank his head into his hands. “I’m sorry, Rachel,” he muttered. “I’m so sorry.”

It hurt my heart to see his pain. “I forgive you,” I said. It was the only gift I had left to give.

He scooted his chair closer and leaned across my body, his arm cradling my tummy as he sobbed against me. I smoothed his hair with one hand. “God, I don’t deserve you,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “You’ve given my life meaning from the very day you walked into it. I always thought I was some master of the universe, but you raised the bar on my life. You push me and drive me to be a better father and a better man. I can’t imagine my life without you or our children, each and every one.” His voice broke as he looked up at me. “I would give my life to make you happy, to give you the life… and the love… you deserve. I love you, Rachel.”

A sob strangled my throat as I reached for him, pulling him close to kiss away each tear and regret.

Though I was only twenty-two weeks along, my cervix had already started to shorten, which put me at risk of pre-term labor. Dr. Rombach put me on modified bed rest at the house, with minimal walking, standing, stair-climbing and no sexual activity. Drew swore he would do anything at all to keep me comfortable, and called Harrison from my bedside so that he could prepare one of the guest rooms on the ground floor for when I returned.

“Speaking of guest rooms, why don’t we invite Millicent and Max to the house to stay with us while Alex is gone? She’s a nurse and she could help take care of me while you’re at work.”

“Do you really need another child to chase after, Rachel?” he asked softly. It wasn’t snarky, like it might have been without our big scare. Instead he was truly concerned I was taking on too much. With my elevated blood pressure and dehydration, his concern was keeping me as healthy as possible.

“Isn’t that why you hired Zoe? To tend to the kids when I was unable to?”

He sighed. “If it will make you feel better,” he finally agreed.

It would have made me feel better if Alex didn’t leave at all, but I wasn’t willing to resurrect that argument again. At the moment
my focus was on my babies, and keeping them in the womb for as long as possible.

This also meant more frequent ultrasounds and further testing, which began before I left the hospital. But even though they knew the sex of my children, I refused to let them tell me. Drew hadn’t been the only one scared straight by our
medical emergency. I knew having my babies this early seriously limited their chance of survival. If I knew the gender, then I could plan for the birth. If I could plan for the birth, then I could dream about their future.

And I knew I
wasn’t ready to have those dreams once again torn asunder. God had already broken one promise to me. I knew I couldn’t bear another. It was much more than my fragile heart could bear.

So I returned home
Sunday morning, moving into the sunny yellow guest room on the ground floor. It was just down the hall from Drew’s office, and featured a view of the pool from the bay window where I could sit and read.

This
was the same day Max and Millicent moved into the suite upstairs near Jonathan’s room.

We were all in place to wait for Alex to return from Mexico… and I could do nothing but
hope and pray that he would.

It was three weeks before Alex finally returned from his jaunt in Mexico. By then I was twenty-five weeks pregnant and had mercifully not experienced any more contractions, nor had I dilated or effaced. I credited this mostly to Millicent, who functioned as my own personal nurse. She focused on keeping me hydrated and calm, waiting on me hand and foot until both Jonathan and Max, and even Zoe, were prone to do likewise.

This added to the royal treatment I was already enjoying from Cleo and Harrison, both of whom met seemingly any need before I even knew I had it.

Likewise Drew was attentive and loving. He stayed downstairs in his study so that I could rest, but he would be close enough to be there if I needed him.

I think mostly he didn’t want to return to our bedroom upstairs, where he had almost cost us our children from his drunken rage.

He was so guilty he was willing to listen when I discussed the situation in Mexico. Silently he sat next to me as I pulled up some of the research I had done
, particularly on money laundering. If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn there was relief on his face as well when Alex finally walked through that front door.

And while his safe return was a reason to celebrate, the information that he brought with him was far more serious than we realized.

Within five minutes of his return, we understood why he had shared a room with Martina, who had gone along as a translator, and had accompanied Alex back to our home.

Instead of the doe-eyed executive’s assistant we had thought her to be, she wore glasses and a stern, serious face as she reached a hand and finally, formally, introduced herself. “My name is Agent Martina Delgado,
from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms.”

I saw Drew’s brow furrow. “What?”

“We’ve been monitoring the situation in Mexico for about a year now, ever since Pablo Rojas took over Teton Tech. He’s been on our radar as an emerging King Pin for the cartel, and we were waiting for any opportunity to nail him on money-laundering and smuggling charges. All he needed was a company he could use as a cover, and we knew that had everything to do with Teton Tech.”

Alex nodded. “They contacted me in January, while you were away on your honeymoon. They wanted to plant an agent, and they already knew from our complicated family history that I was their best bet.”

“You hired a spy?” Drew asked.

“Yes,” Alex admitted without apology. “We have too much to lose now, Drew. And if connecting the dots between Troy De Havilland and Pablo Rojas is what clears our family name and keeps our family safe, then that’s what I was willing to do.”

Drew sat back in his chair as he stared between Martina and Alex.

Alex continued.
“Agent Delgado promised that if I was willing to participate in a sting operation, I could absolve FEI from any involvement with any criminal activity, and ultimately hand them the people that they really want to prosecute: certain high-profile members of EAL.”

Martina
nodded. “We aren’t out to nail some two-bit smugglers. We do that all the time and it only puts a finger in the dam. The next day there are more smugglers and more guns and more drugs, and we end up starting over from scratch. We want the people behind the money, even beyond the cartel.”

“I know these men,” Drew pointed out. “I’ve met them and I do business with them. They’ve spent decades building powerful and unblemished reputations. Why would they risk it all on some dirty money?”

“Because it’s a lot of dirty money, from many powerful allies,” she answered. “They’ve built a very powerful empire smuggling drugs into the U.S. and guns into Mexico. They let the little guy take all the risks while they pocket millions of dollars, influencing government officials on both sides of the border with their money and their power.”

“And they’re willing to do anything to protect that power,” Alex pointed out. “Case in point:
Dietrich Schonhorn.”

My stomach dropped. For years I had dismissed the story around
Dietrich Schonhorn and his daughter Elizabeth as conspiracy theories. Now there was a federal agent in my house, nodding as Alex once again invoked their names.

“That was where we started to focus our attention on EAL,” Martina agreed. “Apparently it was a very successful threat. Until Alex, no one was willing to put their neck out.”

“They play both sides of the fence,” Alex interjected. “People like the good senator ensure that penalties are steep for drug runners and illegal immigrants, as well as small-time users and dealers, to keep the focus on the more obvious criminal element, rather than the powerful wizard behind the curtain. Meanwhile they’re in bed with killers and criminals, to step in when the law won’t serve them. Their law-abiding, respectable images are all the result of smoke and mirrors, Drew. Troy used you to take over these companies so that he could ultimately install people like Rojas in upper management to do all the dirty work. Then, if things went south, you would be the one with dirt on your hands and he would have a pristine voting and business record.”

I glanced at my husband, who had been leveled by these new revelations just as much as I had.
Drew sighed. “So what do we do now?”

“Protect your brother,” Agent Delgado
answered. “Because Alex has proven the biggest obstacle in setting up these businesses in Mexico, there’s a mark on his head as big as Texas.”

“And you let him go to Mexico?” I asked
of her. “Even knowing how dangerous it was?”

“That’s why I went with him. We’ve concocted this fabricated relationship to keep him safe, Mrs. Fullerton.”

“I knew the risks, Rachel,” Alex assured. “They were worth taking. If I can uncover anything to link De Havilland and EAL to Rojas, we can finally prosecute these fuckers and be free of them once and for all.”

“Now I need your help,”
Martina told Drew. “I need to know every detail about your relationship with De Havilland, no matter how unimportant it may seem. Even if I get him on a technicality, I need to get him. It could save your brother’s life.”

Drew sat quietly on the sofa
next to me as he glanced between Martina and Alex. Finally he said, “Whatever you need.”

I nearly wept for joy as I clasped his hand.

“Good,” she said. “We’ll all return to the office and keep up the ruse to maintain the status quo. Whatever you do, you can’t let De Havilland know that you’re onto him. He’s not an enemy to cross,” she cautioned.

We all nodded and
she departed. Drew stood and faced Alex. “Obviously you can’t go back to the ranch,” he stated. “You’ll stay here with us.”

Alex shook his head. “I can’t put your family at risk, Drew.”

“You are my family,” Drew said quietly. Tears poured down my face as I watched Alex soften towards his brother at last.

“Thank you,” he said, and I knew he meant it.

When the boys returned later with Zoe, they were beside themselves that Alex had returned and would stay at the mansion with us. Since Millicent had virtually been hired on to be my personal nurse for the next few months, he could make some bullshit excuse about renovating the ranch while no one was living in it. But Jonathan, Max and even Zoe didn’t care what brought the family together. They all welcomed the change immediately.

When Drew came to my room later that evening, I took him into my arms and hugged him tight. “I’m so proud of you, Drew.”

He shook his head. “Be proud of Alex. He’s the one who threw himself on the grenade for this family. I honestly thought I would never see this day.”

“He’s a Fullerton,” I said with a soft smile.

Again Drew shook his head. “A Fullerton would have taken the money anyway, dirty or not.” Quietly he added, “My mother was right. He’s better than a Fullerton.”

“It’s all about legacy,” I reminded gently. “Your father’s legacy doesn’t have to be yours
, honey. You can create a new one at any time.”

He smiled at me as he reached for a kiss. “Thank God for you, my darling Rachel. Without you, none of this would have been possible. You’ve made better people of us all
with nothing more than your love. And one day,” he promised as he stroked my tummy, “I swear to you that I will earn that amazing love.”

I cupped his face with one hand as I kissed him gently. “You already did.”

We curled together and cuddled close, in awe of the changes that were finally healing our broken family.