village in Maine.
“I can hear the ocean hitting the rocks,” he said between chews. “This water is different from my ocean.” That eternal pounding echoed the pounding of his heart as it crashed against his chest.
“I’ve never been to Louisiana,” she replied as she finally sat down across from him with her own cup of coffee. “And why are we making small talk?”
He took a long drink, the hot liquid burning his throat while her eyes burned him with an intense heat. But he made sure his next words were as soft and sweet as the marshmallows she’d left open on the table. “Oh, we’ve got plenty of time to talk about why I’m here, darlin’. ’Cause I’m not leaving until we have an understanding.”
She slammed her cup down so hard that coffee sloshed out on the table. “What kind of understanding?”
Eli polished off the last of the food, then leaned forward, his hands on the table, his smile patient and calm. “Like I told you earlier, chère—I’ve come for my son. And I’m not leaving here without him.”
TWO
“Why are you doing this, Eli? Why didn’t you just ring the doorbell like a normal human being?”
Shadows colored his face as his voice went low and grainy. “Haven’t you heard? I’m not like other people.”
Gena hid the mortal fear beating like a ship’s broken sail inside her heart. “What were you planning to do? Just grab him up in the middle of the night? Kidnap a little boy who doesn’t even know you exist?”
His eyes went as black as a moonless night. “I should have done that, because your brother and you plotted the same thing when he was born. You didn’t give me a say in the matter back then, so why should I be so kind and understanding now?”
Gena held to the warmth of her coffee cup, listening as the wind picked up outside. The tick-tock of the old grandfather clock in the hallway seemed to echo a warning through the still house, while the lights on the Christmas tree in the living room sparkled and twinkled right on cue. “Eli, we did what we had to do to protect Scotty. We didn’t know how you’d react. You were in bad shape.”
His expression grew stony as he kept his eyes on her. “Let’s recap. Devon held up our mission in South America because he was worried about me, worried that I couldn’t finish the job after I went out on my own. But the mission went bad when we were compromised and a young girl was killed. I only wanted to be home in time for my child’s birth, but someone wanted me dead.” He stopped, his hand going flat on the table. “That someone—my own grandfather—came after my wife and my unborn child to punish me. I went berserk and tried to find them, but I was too late.”
Gena watched as he lowered his head and swallowed. “I was too late.” The pain etched on his face spoke of just exactly how far off the deep end he’d gone. But when he looked back up at her, he wore a mask of calm. “Because of that, I got sent to a retreat—to rest and regroup—as my superiors put it. Trapped in a desolate place while my pregnant wife lay in a coma. She died, Gena, but not before the baby was delivered. Devon decided to take the baby. My baby. I should have been told the truth. I should have had the chance to decide for myself.”
Gena blinked back the tears forming in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Eli. I know how it feels to lose someone you love.”
“I’m sure you do. But do you know how it feels to be deceived and tricked by everyone you trusted?”
Gena shook her head. “Devon thought he was helping you by protecting your son.”
He leaned forward. “I should have been the one protecting the boy. That’s why I’m here now. I’m so afraid someone will come after him again.” He sank back in his chair. “The way they did my wife.”
Gena trembled at that thought. “Have you heard something? Tell me, Eli.”
He shrugged. “It’s just a feeling, chère.”
Gena’s pulse burned a beat through her temple. “You can’t just come in here and say that. What do you know?”
“More than I knew back then,” he retorted. “I know I have a son and now I’m going to take care of him, no matter what CHAIM thinks.”
Figuring he was just trying to scare her, Gena reminded herself that she’d been the one watching over Scotty for a long time now. “And what would you have done back then, if you’d known? I think I can answer that. You went out on a vigilante mission and no one could locate you. And by the time they’d found you, it was too late. You were in no shape to do anything, and if you’d known, you would have come back—”
“Back to my wife and my child,” he finished. “You don’t know what I went through.”
“I think I do,” she said, compassion softening her words. “I lost my husband to CHAIM, remember?” She could talk of pain and longing, but she wouldn’t give him any more ammunition to use against her. “That kind of pain paralyzes a person. You almost went mad with grief and anger. Devon wanted to protect you and Scotty. Maybe his motives weren’t pure and maybe his reasoning was out of whack, but his heart was on your side. He agonized over his decision, but he was trying to help.”
Eli slammed his hand down hard against the table. “You and Devon have no idea what agony is. No idea at all.”
Gena didn’t know how to reach him. Since the cold night her brother had called her all those years ago asking her to take in Scotty, she’d heard all about the Cajun from Louisiana. She knew the Disciple was the most dangerous of the whole CHAIM team, knew he hadn’t joined CHAIM so much as a true believer, but as someone who only wanted to measure up to his absent father’s heroic status. He’d only wanted to prove to his bitter grandfather that he was worthy. But Eli’s heart had never been centered on the true cause of CHAIM, to help and protect Christians in danger through amnesty, intervention and ministry. Eli lived for the danger, but from what she’d heard, he sure didn’t seem to live to serve Christ.
“Eli,” she said, hoping to make him understand, “you’ve come so far. You survived a near-breakdown, a gunshot wound from your grandfather and…Lydia told me you’ve been studying your Bible and trying to find God’s love in your life. So why are you doing this?”
He sat like a giant statue, his face chiseled in rock, his eyes shining with the hardness of unearthed coal. “I want my son with me. I never had the luxury of a father growing up. I want him with me, no matter what.”
Gena cupped her hands together as if in prayer. “Do you hear yourself? No matter what? What does that mean, exactly? That you’ll do whatever it takes to just pull him away from me, without any consideration for his feelings or mine? Did you even bother to think this through? Does Devon know you’re here?”
“Devon has no right to stop me.” He leaned back, frustration coloring his tanned skin as he raked a hand over his dark shaggy hair. “And let me see if I can answer your questions to your satisfaction. Number one—I’ve had plenty of time to consider everyone’s feelings in this situation, including my own. Number two—I’ve had nothing else to think about since the night my grandfather died and I got shot—the night your brother informed me that I had a son. And number three—Dev does not know I’m here. That man is busy planning his wedding to Lydia. Why bother him with all the details of my torment and my shame?”
Gena
