Scars Of Defiance (25 page)

Paul watched as his mother and father came running out of
the house with ear-to-ear smiles.

“Oh Paul, I’m so happy you’re alive!” His mother grabbed his
head and plastered kisses in his hair.

Sierra watched the tender action from mother to son, and her
eyes watered up. She wouldn’t ever have that ever again because of the ruthless
Rawlings family. Her determination solidified even further to defy the
dictator.

Zachary came over to Sierra and gave her a huge hug.
“Welcome to the family, Sara.”

Elsie tried to hug Paul, but he fought her off. Dr. Roth
came to his rescue. “He has broken ribs and a very sore back, Mrs. Bronson.”

“Doctor, we owe you everything,” Elsie said and hugged him
tightly. “Thank you for this. Thank you for bringing back my boy.”

Dr. Roth issued a heartfelt “You’re welcome.”

Martha came out of the house along with Dr. Roth’s parents.
“Get your hind ends inside before someone sees you!” She had a large smile on
her face and gave Paul and Sierra a kiss on each cheek as they walked past her.

Paul turned and found Dr. Roth speaking to Martha. “You must
be Martha Bronson.”

“That I am, young man.”

“A certain individual from the insurgents doesn’t like you
very much.”

Martha chuckled. “That would be Clive, I’m guessing.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why the hard feelings?”

“Clive has a way of using people for his own gain. He lost
his direction many years ago, and I tried to point it out to him. He made a
vital mistake, and his wife was executed by Reginald, and he blamed me. It’s a
typical reaction for any man who uses people:  blame someone else when a plan
goes awry. I’m shocked he helped you at all.”

“He hoped I’d join his team once I got back to Rendier. In
the end, I’m no better than he is, I guess. I used him for
my
own gain,
and that of Sierra — I mean Sara and Paul. Once Clive realizes I’m not coming
back, he’ll blow a gasket,” John chuckled.

“Understandably so.”

“He expressed a great deal of dislike for the Montgomery
family and promised that if Sara was captured she’d be killed.”

Martha said, “The Montgomery name is the most powerful name
in all of Rendier, and Clive knows it. I don’t doubt for a second that he’d
have her killed. In fact, he’s already tried repeatedly more times than you are
probably aware of. In my opinion, Clive is striving for the throne. He’s
placing his people one at a time in the palace so when the timing is right, he
can stage a successful coup. If a Montgomery is roaming around the palace, his
coup will fail because even his own followers regard the ousted monarchy as
being better than him.”

“That makes sense and explains more than you know. The
question is, would Rendier be in any better hands if he took over?”

“Absolutely not. It would be the same song, different radio
station.”

“Is there any hope for Rendier’s future?”

Martha took a breath and glanced in the direction of the
house. “The Montgomery girl is the only one who could help Rendier and bring the
Rawlings family’s rule successfully to an end.”

*****

Sam arrived shortly after Sara and Paul did, and it took
most of the evening to get caught up on everything that had happened since the
raid.

Zachary had been successful at turning the guards’
allegiance away from Reginald, but he wasn’t quick enough to reach Paul at the
cabin to warn him. They all agreed it wouldn’t have mattered. There really
wasn’t anywhere they could have run to, and that line of conversation meandered
to ways the cabin could become a better hide-out.

Another general consensus was that the Bidells got what they
deserved. Greg had been warned by Zachary that Reginald and Victor Rawlings
wouldn’t have any use for him, and it ended up being truer than even he thought
it would be. The news announced Greg’s death as a mugging incident, and his
parents were said to have simply disappeared without a trace. Maybe they fled,
maybe they were taken. No one knew, and no one was even looking further into
it.

Sam had made the decision to flee in the middle of the night
with his crossers. Even though it went against what he’d been instructed to do,
it saved his life and all six defectors. He drove north to a secure location
and waited for things to cool down before surfacing.

Paul told everyone about how he and Sara had stayed in the
tunnel for a whole day and then moved to the cabin after dark. When Zachary
heard how much trouble the getaway car had given them, his head fell. Paul
reassured him that everything had worked out in the end. Paul went on to tell
them about Sara falling in the creek and her narrow escape from a frozen death.

He told everyone about the happenings at the palace but
glazed over the abuse and the fact that Victor had slept with Sara. Paul lied
further by saying that Sara and Victor had only been married a matter of hours
when their deaths were convincingly faked, thanks to Dr. Roth.

Paul looked at Dr. Roth hoping he would follow his lead and
not expose the uglier details of the palace. He didn’t.

“Sara,” Elsie asked, “what do you plan to do with your new
life?”

She turned to Paul and replied, “Whatever I do, it will be
with Paul.”

Paul’s face reddened as all eyes moved to him. “Well,
eventually, we will house crossers if the need still calls for it. For now,
we’d better drop off the map entirely.”

Martha spoke up. “I couldn’t agree more. It’s likely the
Bidells weren’t the only spies living in Slaterville. That’s why I’ve already
made plans to take the two of you north to Densfield.”

Late in the night, they said goodbyes and Grandma Martha
drove Paul and Sierra to Densfield.  Zachary, Elsie, and Sam would be returning
to Slaterville to act the part of mourning Paul. They would go through the
motions of a funeral and make statements to the press to validate their
stories. The fake body of Paul Bronson would have a proper burial just in case
Reginald or Victor decided to venture to Slaterville.

After sixteen hours of driving, Paul, Sierra, and Martha
arrived in Densfield. They found a small hotel room and relaxed as much as they
could. Paul and Sierra sat on the bed with pillows propped behind Paul to
support his ribs, and Sierra cuddled next to him, laying her head on his
shoulder. Martha sat at the table talking on the phone, making living
arrangements for them. On the television, a news report told of the funeral for
Sierra Montgomery Rawlings.

They watched as the reporter announced that the threat to Sierra’s
life, sadly, was real. The public wedding had been called off due to threats,
and the marriage had taken place in private. It was unclear how the
assassination went down, but officials quickly apprehended the suspect and
executed him on the spot.

A picture of Sierra with her birth and death dates flashed
on the screen. It was the shot from the press conference when she looked back
over her shoulder.

Paul kissed the top of her head, and she looked up at him.

“I’m really dead. We’re going to need to change our names.”

“Just our last name,” Paul replied.

Martha put her hand over the phone and said, “Make it
Cutler. Cutler is my maiden name.”

Sierra tried out the sound of it. “Paul and Sara Cutler. I
love it. I love you, Paul.” She smiled, looked up and kissed Paul.

“I love you, Sara Cutler, with all my heart. Will you marry
me?” He ran his fingers down the side of her face.

“Yes.”

*****

Riley Stone stood away from the group of mourners at the
cemetery. Snowflakes fell reverently, almost symbolically. The silence of the
surrounding area seemed to punctuate the profoundness of the moment. The pastor
murmured a prayer or rite of passage for her soul or something like that; Riley
didn’t care. All he knew was what he felt. He felt empty, stripped of all his
will to live, tromped on by people more powerful than he was, once again.

How did this come to be? How could he have let this happen?
Why was he powerless to prevent it? Sierra was gone forever now. Gone! This was
all Clive Roberts’s fault. He had pressed Riley to befriend Victor, pushed him
because there was no other in the underground of the same age except for
Elinore Steinman. Apparently, she’d been pushed to the forefront now since she
was sitting between Victor and her own father, General Steinman.

Clive’s tutoring on how to associate with and act like
Victor had paid off somewhat. Victor had accepted him as a friend, peculiar as
their relationship might be. Victor still accepted him. Riley could see
Victor’s powerful future, and he wanted to be part of it.

Clive taught Riley how to win with the girls. Victor could
certainly have any girl he wanted, and if Riley was to be his friend, then he
would need to be able to do the same. Riley’s outer appearance had been tended
to courtesy of Clive. The best stylists, top personal trainers, and dieticians
all helped him transform into an undeniably handsome man during his teen years.
He could have any girl he wanted, and he’d had plenty. But the one girl he
wanted most of all could see through his shallowness. She was the only one who
mattered to him; her opinion meant everything. It hurt to know he had been
rejected because of his association with Clive. Now, she lay in the casket
before him.

Clive had warned him not to associate with Sierra
Montgomery. He had said she was off limits, but that just made Riley want her
more. Clive told him that any focus on Sierra would bring about Victor’s
attentions; that was true. That Riley truly regretted. But Riley had been torn
between love and power. He thought he could have both. He could rise in power
beside Victor with Sierra by his side. Only the further things progressed,
Riley realized Sierra would be by Victor’s side, not his.

Why wouldn’t she listen to him? Why did she hate him so? He
had truly meant it when he told her he could hide her and reinvent her. But she
looked at him with that look of disgust in her eye, and it hurt. That look was
the last one he’d gotten from her before finding out the devastating news. She
would never look upon him again.

What he wouldn’t do to see her eyes again, even if they held
loathing for him. At least she would be alive, and he could continue to try to
win her over. Riley blinked back the tears that formed in his eyes. He looked
at Elinore Steinman’s profile, and a wave of hatred filled his entire being.
She represented Clive. She would now be the star puppet in the show. Her
strings would be controlled by Clive, and it made Riley sick to think about it.

Why should Clive be allowed to have so much power? Who did
he think he was? The only consolation in Riley’s mind was that he knew Victor’s
weaknesses, and Clive did not. He applauded himself for not revealing these to
Clive.

At that very moment, the sun shined through a break in the
clouds, illuminating the snowflakes as if they had become energized with
electricity. Riley’s mind cleared, and his revenge began to take form. This
light literally illuminating his mind set in motion his plan to rise above all
those who had taken everything from him. Riley vowed right there, at that
moment, even as the gentle snowflakes lightly touched Sierra’s coffin, that he
would avenge her death. He would rise above Clive Roberts. He would rise above
Victor. Somehow, someday, someway, he would prevail.

###

Sample
chapter

Book
two in the Scars of Defiance series:

The Dictator’s Daughter

Twenty-seven years later, Paul and Sara have successfully
continued defying the Rawlings family. Victor is now ruler of Rendier, Paul and
Sara’s adult children help operate the crosser home in Slaterville and the
latest defectors seem to have all stumbled onto a questionable financial racket
operated by Victor. The newest young man to arrive isn’t at all who he seems to
be—in fact, he isn’t a young man at all.

Enjoy the preview of chapter
one from
The Dictator’s Daughter.

Chapter one

In the dark cold room, Eliwese sat nearly naked on the floor
with her back against the wall and her knees pulled close to her chest. She
shivered from the coolness, due to the fact she’d been stripped down to her bra
and panties before being shoved inside, which perplexed her. Why was she being
treated this way? This was supposed to be a safe location. And yet, upon
arrival she was treated like a prisoner, even though her identity was well
known to all.

Another tremor shot through her body. Her petite shoulders
and neck might have been a little warmer at present if she hadn’t chopped off
her long auburn locks that had taken most of her twenty-two years to grow to
the small of her back. However, she knew cutting and dyeing her only pride and
joy was a necessity to further her disguise and complete her mission.

The dank room was void of furniture and the color of the
walls reminded her of the pond at the sewage treatment plant. The dusty hardwood
floor held no heat and gave zero comfort. Her eyes traveled up to a minuscule
window set high on the wall on the other side of the room letting in a small
amount of light. Oddly enough, security bars were attached to the outside of
the opening. The chance of anyone escaping through such a small gap was
depressing enough. What purpose did the bars serve?

She heard low male voices outside the door, her whole body
tensed with fear and she pulled her knees even closer to her chest.

The rusty hinges on the door squealed as it was pushed open.
Her eyes squinted shut due to the extreme difference in lighting. Once they
adjusted she saw the silhouettes of three muscular, broad-shouldered men
stalking toward her while a fourth stood in the doorway. She inched away from them
as much as she could. She smelled rank sweat and strong liquor and heard the
low rumble of their collective breathing as they stood over her like sentinels,
blocking her in and preventing her escape.