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Chapter 8

The bunker was located underground in the Tower house. Built at the entrance to the compound for defensive purposes, the building was also made up of the Great Hall and McKay's private residence. The rest of the agents stayed in personal flats at the mansion where the infirmary was located. Gabriel pressed the code into the metal door of the concrete and stone shelter and held it open for Sin and Charlie. Three stories of circular stairs took them down to a small foyer. Gabriel turned the latch on a thick metal door which led into the main bunker room. The hum of a generator was the only sound fueling the soft lights in the ceiling. An impenetrable sanctuary and her new prison.

Sin put Charlie down on a cot. "Why did you say Michael?"

"I thought it was Michael. It looked like him for a second," she said. A chill ran up her spine, sparking a tiny flame of hope. As immature as he was, he was also fiercely possessive. But it was unlikely he would have found her here. And as much as she wanted to go home, it wasn't with him.

"How would he have found us here?"

"I don't know." She shook her head. "Can I please call my father?"

Sin looked at Gabriel, questioning. "We've tried several times, Charlie," Gabriel said. "We haven't been able to reach him."

"Please."

He nodded at Sin. "Aye, let her. Alex was going to, anyway," the angel said. "They'll be worried about her." Sin handed her his phone. Gabriel knelt down in front of her. "You can't tell them anything about us." She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I won't." Her hand shook as she dialed the number. He took it from her, putting it on speaker.

"Hello," a male voice answered.

"Daddy," she said, tears filling her eyes.

There was silence. "Daddy. It's me, Charlie."

"What do you want?" her father's voice said coldly.

"Daddy, I want to come home. I'm hurt." The relief of hearing his voice alleviated some of her fear.

"We've all been hurt, your mother most of all."

"No, Daddy. I'm injured. I can't get into it now, but I need help. Will you come get me or send me money for a ticket?"

"Come get you? You abandoned our family. You've made us the laughingstock of the community. The Adamses won't speak to us. We're no longer allowed at our clubs. I have clients pulling their accounts and you want me to come get you?"

Her heart plunged, the picture etched on her stomach throbbing its ghastly message in hopeless despair. "I'm sorry. I messed up. Please, Daddy?" She didn't want to look at the men and she didn't want them to hear what she was going to say next. "I'm scared."

Silence.

"Is Michael looking for me?" she asked. "Did he follow me?"

"No," he said. "No one is looking for you. Like I said, the Adamses aren't speaking to us. Forty years of friendship down the drain. Not only did you break Michael's heart, but you also humiliated him, and us too."

"Daddy, I'm sorry. Please—"

"Don't call here again, Charlotte. When you left that day, you left us forever. As far as I'm concerned, you're dead to us." He hung up, ending the connection. She stared at the phone. There was a bathroom off the room they were in. Getting up, she walked to it and closed the door. Lights danced before her eyes from the effort. She threw up in the toilet then let her tears come in earnest, hard and wrenching. It all made horrid sense, why no one was looking for her. Her family had disowned her. She had nothing. Michael wasn't coming to get her. She lifted the hospital gown she wore to look at her stomach. Sokolov's eyes looked back at her as though he stood behind her. She blinked several times and looked again. A picture of a crest or coat of arms stood out, red and angry against her skin. Dear God, what had he done to her? There was a soft knock on the door, and she dropped the gown.

"Charlotte?" Sinclair said. "Let me in, lass."

Other voices could be heard beyond the door.

She splashed cold water on her face and opened it. Sinclair stepped in. "Are you okay?"

She was unable to speak, for fear she would start to cry again.

He took her hand. "You're safe here. We'll protect you." For a moment she wished he would take her in his arms and comfort her the way he did in the cottage. Instead, he led her out and sat her on the cot. The colonel had joined them along with the doctor and another man.

"You should lie down," Dr. Forbes said, feeling her forehead.

"I'm fine." She brushed him off, not wanting to be touched.