Dead Girl Running (Cape Charade #1)(91)

From down the block, another man was shouting, “Stop him. Stop him!”

“Save the child,” Cecilia yelled. She staggered to her feet.

The father captured the little girl again, picked her up by the waist and flung her over his shoulder. His face was bleeding, his pristine tie askew; his dark eyes were murderous.

Cecilia jumped between him and his town car.

He tried to block her with the flat of his hand.

She ducked beneath and butted him with her head. She nailed him, too, because he released Annabella and leaned over, holding his family jewels.

The kid knew what to do this time. She took off down the sidewalk, veered into traffic, dodging cars, using them as blockades and concealment.

Her daring stopped Cecilia’s breath in her throat.

The father ran after her.

Cecilia flung her weight into his back.

An oncoming car slammed on its brakes, struck him with the right front bumper, spun him into the street.

Cecilia hit the still-moving car on the passenger door, whirled backward and fell facedown on the asphalt. She knew she had to get up. She had to help that child, but the best she could do was crawl… Vaguely, she heard sirens and a man’s rumbling voice she now knew to be Max’s said, “You saved Annabella. You saved my niece.”

Cecilia relaxed, slid toward unconsciousness, then tensed again. Desperately, she groped for the travel wallet hidden under her clothes. Kellen’s documents. She couldn’t lose them.

“What’s wrong?” the man’s voice asked. “What can I help you with?”

She wrapped her fingers around the string, tugged the wallet out so she could grasp it. She opened her swollen eyes, and for the first time, she looked into Max’s strong, grave face.

“Do you want me to keep that for you?” he asked.

At the thought, terror gripped her.

“I’ll keep them safe. I’ll return them as soon as you wish.”

Behind him, she could see policemen and EMTs advancing on her. They would take Kellen’s wallet. They’d ask questions she couldn’t answer.

She offered the wallet to Annabella’s uncle.

He grasped it.

“Don’t look,” she said.

“I won’t.”

“Promise you won’t look.”

“I promise.”

*

Cecilia spent a week in the hospital. She’d cracked her tailbone and fractured her cheek. She was dehydrated and undernourished. More than that, the physicians had expressed concern about the old burns around her hairline and on her shoulders. She heard one doctor tell Max that at some point in her life she’d suffered physical and mental trauma, and that no doubt accounted for her overly violent defense of Annabella. He also told Max that she should be confined to an institution until they could ascertain that she was stable.

An hour later, when Max came in, she was out of bed and scavenging for clothing.

He flung a small overnight case on the bed and opened it. “Here. Pick out what you want to wear. I’m taking you home.”

“To the home?” Kellen’s travel wallet was on top. She snatched it up, pulled it over her head, settled it on her chest. “To hell with you.”

“My home,” he said. “You saved my niece. Her father is Ettore Fontana, a desperate man without honor. He intended to kidnap Annabella and hold her for ransom. You saved her. The Di Luca family owes you a debt. We always pay our debts. No more fears. You’re safe with us.”

“I’ll never be confined again.” Imprisoned, abused, married. Never again. She turned her back to him, stripped off the hospital gown and started to dress. The guy had good taste in underwear, she’d say that for him.

His voice rumbled with patience. “In my home, you can rest, recuperate, and then when you wish, I’ll help you go somewhere safe. I’ll help you find a job. I don’t know what misfortune put you on the streets, but I will protect you.”

Cecilia had listened to another man once say pleasant things in a convincing voice, and Gregory had murdered her cousin and almost killed her. “Why should I believe you?” she asked hoarsely.

When she had donned one layer of clothes and started on a second, he gently turned her to face him, and his eyes, golden brown and warm, met hers. “Because I’m Maximilian Di Luca. I always keep my word.”

*

As the town car rumbled along the asphalt, Kellen touched her wet cheeks. Tears. She remembered so well what Max said, what he did, how she had loved him…

The first time she woke in the hospital, he asked her what her name was.

“Ceecee.” Funny. She hadn’t thought about what she should say. She just said it. Ceecee, her family nickname. That was what he called her.

She groped along the leather seat, pulled herself into a sitting position, asked, “Birdie? Where’s Birdie? We were supposed to stop for Birdie.”

“Someone else is bringing her to the airstrip.”

“Carson Lennex is bringing her?”

“Right. Carson Lennex.”

“That’s nice.” Kellen took a few more careful breaths. “I think he likes her.”

The driver gave a soft snort.

Kellen tried to remember this driver. She knew everyone at the resort. But she couldn’t remember this woman.

She touched the scar on her forehead.