Silent Run - Barbara Freethy [100]
But as seconds turned to minutes, he wondered if that was going to happen at all, or if this time he’d lost Sarah forever.
* * *
She’d never been to such an elite party. Everyone who was anyone in Chicago was there. And so was she. She felt like pinching herself. Was this her life now? Fabulous parties, rich friends, families with blood ties dating back to the Mayflower? It hardly seemed possible. She’d spent so many years on her own, on the edge of—if not in—a state of homelessness. But one chance meeting with a sexy, sophisticated man and her entire life had changed.
Victor Pennington was her Prince Charming, her dark-haired, dark-eyed, half-Russian prince, and she was Cinderella at the ball, only her dress wasn’t going to turn to rags, nor would the stretch limo change into a pumpkin. This was real. Victor loved her. He said she was his lucky charm, and she’d never been anyone’s charm, lucky or otherwise.
He probably wouldn’t think she was lucky if he knew who she really was. She shouldn’t have lied to him, but whenever she had the chance to be someone else, she usually took it. She and Teresa had pretended to be lots of different people during their trip across the country. It was fun, a lark. She’d been a struggling country-western singer in Nashville. Teresa had been a supermodel on the rise in Denver. They’d both been flight attendants on layover in Dallas. Only those games hadn’t lasted long, just a day or two. She’d never anticipated when she’d met Victor and his Harvard friends that they would still be seeing each other a few weeks later.
Now it was too late to change her story. A wave of fear rushed through her. She told herself it would be all right. Victor didn’t have to know the truth. She could be whoever he wanted her to be. She’d spent her life learning how to fit in. Fake it until you make it, Teresa always said.
The party scene faded in front of her eyes, replaced with the shadows of the back room, the clatter of the heavy ornate frames being opened, the sound of soft yet harsh whispers in the night, the late-night calls, the hours alone waiting, wondering, and then she saw the faces of the men who’d tracked her down, who’d blackmailed her, who’d forced her to see what was really happening, who’d taken her fairy-tale life and turned it into a never-ending nightmare from which she couldn’t escape.
“Sarah.”
The sound of Jake’s voice warmed her heart. She loved Jake. He was the real prince, but she couldn’t tell him her dark secrets. She couldn’t bring him into the madness of her life. Victor would kill anyone who tried to protect her or to help her. He’d already done it several times—the guards in the safe house, Andy—even Mrs. Murphy had almost lost her life because of Sarah.
“Sarah, come back to me. We need to find Caitlyn. I can’t do it without you.”
Jake’s pleading, desperate words warred with her desire to remain in a safe, quiet place, to just let the worst happen, because she was so tired. But her daughter needed her. Jake needed her. She’d put them in danger, and she had to get them out. She had to fight. She couldn’t quit now.
Slowly she opened her eyes, blinking at the sight of Jake’s anxious expression. His face was white, and the worry lines across his forehead and around his mouth were deep and tight.
“Thank God,” he breathed. His hand stroked her cheek. “Are you all right?”
Her brain felt thick and slow. It had been empty for so long. Now it was crowded with memories from her childhood, from Victor, from Jake—so many conflicting thoughts hit her, she didn’t know what to say, what to do. She glanced around the room, trying to focus on the present, on simple facts. They were in a motel room in Santa Monica. They were on the run. They were looking