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Not Without Her Son
Kay David
Julia Vandamme's nightmare began after she said, "I do."Her only comfort is her sweet little boy, and she's stayed in her marriage just for him. Jonathan Cruz is their one chance for escape, but before she and her son can know freedom, Julia has to learn to trust Cruz. But how can she, when she's not convinced he's the man he claims to be?To save a friend. To protect a child. To end an evil. Most of us could not bring ourselves to do the unthinkable–even if it was for the greater good. The Operatives do whatever it takes. Because of them, we don't have to.
“Meredith sent me.”
Blinking in confusion, Julia couldn’t make sense of his words.
“Act like you know me and I’ll handle the rest,” he continued, his eyes locking on hers.
When Julie had been six years old she’d left the back door of their Mississippi home open and a rattler had slithered inside. When she’d seen the snake in the kitchen a few minutes later, she’d screamed so loudly the yard man had run into the house without even knocking. He’d compensated for his lapse in protocol by dispatching the unwanted guest.
Since her marriage, she’d often thought she’d let another snake into her life.
Now Julia had the feeling she’d done it once again.
Dear Reader,
Our children are our most precious possessions, even though one might argue they are not possessions. We argue over them, though, as if they were, making them pawns in our battles, whether we mean to or not. The reason for their importance in these awful situations is obvious. We love them so much we are willing to lie, steal, cheat and possibly even kill for them.
Not Without Her Son is the story of a woman who is willing, able and prepared to do all of the above and more. Julia Vandamme, the victim of a ruthless man and her own bad choices, finds herself imprisoned in a foreign country with her son, Tomas. She’s married, she’s trapped and she’s desperate. The last thing she wants is her son to become his father. For Julia Vandamme nothing comes before her son, including her own life.
Wouldn’t it be great if every parent felt this way? What would it mean to the world if everyone who was a parent put their children first? What if nothing mattered but our kids?
I was lucky enough to have a mother and father who gave their all to me, my sister and my brother. Believe me, they gave so much of their love and attention that there were plenty of times all three of us wished for parents who would just leave us alone! And when they couldn’t be there, their own parents took over.
Families are the building blocks of our society, and if you put your child above everything else, like my parents and the heroine in this book, then you’re performing the most important job in the world. I hope you enjoy this story and find inspiration in it, as well.
Kay David
Not Without Her Son
Kay David
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This book is dedicated to the memory of my mother and
father, Pauline and Earl Cameron. Their legacy was
priceless and their love will never fade.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
San Isidro, Colombia
JULIA VANDAMME-RAMIREZ LOOKED over the crowd milling about her living room. Sipping drinks and eating hors d’oeuvres, her guests, all dressed expensively if not tastefully, mingled and laughed, clearly enjoying themselves. She smiled tightly and waved to one of the women, catching her husband’s attention with the motion. Miguel followed Julia’s gesture, then he turned in her direction and gave her a slight nod.
Julia acknowledged him and drew a deep breath, relief washing over her at his approval. Standing by Julia’s side, Meredith Santera looked out over the crowd in obvious amazement. She was Julia’s best friend. Julia’s only friend…from before.
“Where on earth did these people come from?” Meredith asked. “Surely they don’t all live in San Isidro?”
“They live all over,” Julia answered. “They come to San Isidro because San Isidro is where we live. If they want to do business with Miguel—and they all do—then they make the trip.”
“They’re business associates?” Meredith sounded doubtful. “Including the old broad over there who’s laughing so loud?”
“Not her. She’s the governor’s wife.” Her mask of gaiety intact, Julia waved at someone else then spoke under her breath. “But Miguel told me to be especially nice to her. I guess he wants something from them.” She smiled and dipped her head at someone else. “But if I don’t get out of here in the next two minutes, my head is going to explode.”
Meredith mimicked Julia’s nod to Miguel and spoke graciously, her slow drawl reflecting the Southern past they shared. “Then shall we retreat to the patio? If you’re gonna do something messy, we might be better off outside.”
Julia grinned, her expression authentic this time. “Good point.” She tilted her head to the French doors at their back. “Let me grab another glass of wine and I’ll meet you on the patio. We have a lot of catching up to do. It’s been way too long.”
Meredith murmured her consent before sliding away soundlessly. Handing her empty flute to a passing waiter, Julia waded into the crowd and continued to greet as many people as she could, her mood lifting as she anticipated visiting with her friend. The last time they’d seen each other had been at Julia’s wedding, almost four years ago. She still couldn’t believe her good luck—if she hadn’t left that department store in Bogota at just the right time, their paths would have never crossed. As it was, Julia had cried her friend’s name and grabbed her in a tight hug, impulsively insisting she come to their party a few nights later. Miguel had not been happy about it, but he’d finally relented, realizing it would have created more of a problem to uninvite her.
Reaching the bar, Julia accepted a new glass of merlot, then headed for the rear of the room. She was almost to the doors when Miguel’s fingers slipped around her elbow and he pulled her to a stop.
“You aren’t going to the terrace, are you, darling? We have other guests in addition to your friend, you know.”
His voice was low and husky, as full of charm as ever. Julia’s heart skipped a beat because she knew what was coming.
“I don’t think those other guests would appreciate it if I threw up on them.” She met his black eyes and wondered how she’d ever thought them sexy. “I’m getting a migraine. I need some fresh air.”
“I’m sorry,” he said politely. He always spoke this way to her. Anyone who listened would be impressed by his smooth civility. She had been when they’d met. “I hope it doesn’t intrude on your time tomorrow with Tomasito.”
But she heard the threat, just as he knew she would. Miguel controlled everything in her life, including the amount of time she spent with their three-year-old son, Tomas. When Julia didn’t behave as Miguel thought she should, he punished her by cutting her visits short or eliminating them all together.
Her mouth went dry. “Tomas expects me, Miguel. I told him we were going to have a picnic.”
“Then you’d better not break your promise.” To make his point even clearer, he tightened his grip on her arm. Refusing to change her expression, Julia endured his painful touch.
“Please visit with my guests. All of them.”
He left her standing alone and shaken. With no other option, she sent a quick look through the windows. Meredith had seen the encounter and clearly understood. She mouthed the words Go on, then pointed to a side door and held both hands up, her fingers splayed.
Meredith and Julia had met between Julia’s junior and senior year in high school when Meredith’s family had been transferred to Pascagoula, her father a Naval officer, her mother an Argentinian expat. Julia was the younger of the two by four years, but she’d been home schooled and was much more mature than most kids her age. She’d been thrilled to meet the exotic, world-traveling Meredith, and they’d hit it off immediately. As fall had approached, Meredith had convinced Julia to apply to the same college at which she would be enrolled as a junior—the University of Southern Mississippi. They’d developed the finger flash, a code for skipping out, in a boring history class they’d shared. All ten fingers meant “ten minutes.”
Julia nodded then held her own hand up, adding five more. Miguel would expect her to do exactly as he’d instructed and he’d check to make sure she complied, but if she put on a show for at least fifteen minutes, she’d be all right. He would be involved in something else by then.
Sure enough, by the time she’d made a second circuit of the room, Miguel had disappeared. She glanced up the staircase to his office. The lights were on and the doors were closed. He was obviously holding one of his endless meetings. If she still thought he was the Colombian diplomat he’d claimed to be, she wouldn’t have given his absence another thought, but she noticed it now, because she knew the truth.
Picking up the hem of her beaded dress, Julia hurried through the kitchen and walked outside. She had just crossed the center of the patio when a shadow materialized from beside the house.
Julia stumbled back in fright and gasped, putting a hand to her chest before she recognized her friend. “Good God, you scared me half to death, Meredith. When did you learn to be so quiet?”
Meredith shrugged and waved off Julia’s comment. “Miguel didn’t look too happy. I didn’t want him to see me.” She tilted her head to the window above. “He’s in his office, isn’t he?”
“You’ve become observant, too.” Julia looked up, as well. “He’s having some kind of meeting. He does that a lot when we entertain. I hardly see him anymore, even when he’s here, which isn’t often.”
“That’s unfortunate.” Meredith’s voice was neutral in the darkness. “You must get lonely.”
Julia knit her fingers together. There was no one she was closer to than Meredith, but Julia’s relationship with her husband had never been a topic of discussion between them. For one thing, Meredith didn’t like Miguel and Julia knew it. For another, she’d been raised not to air her dirty laundry. Vandammes didn’t talk outside the family, especially about trouble.
Even as she had these thoughts, however, Julia acknowledged, at least to herself, the real reason she’d stayed silent—she was embarrassed. How could she have made such a horrific mistake? How could she have missed the monster beneath the facade?
“It’s a quiet life,” Julia finally replied. “But I have Tomas.”
“What about friends?” Meredith asked. “We haven’t talked for a long time. Have you gotten close to any of the women inside?”
“They’re very busy,” Julia said. “Everyone has so much to do with the children and everything.”
“The children?” Meredith didn’t bother to hide her skepticism, her voice turning sharp. “They’ve all got nannies, Julia. Nannies and cooks and maids and God knows what else, just like you do. How busy can they be?”
On edge already, Julia felt her throat go tight. She turned away from her friend. She couldn’t explain. Not now.
“Oh, shit. Julia, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that—”
She reached out to turn Julia around, her fingers pulling at Julia’s right elbow. Julia winced as a streak of pain raced up her arm.
“My, God, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
“It—it’s nothing,” Julia lied. “I—I fell against the door the other day and my arm’s still bruised, that’s all.”
Meredith froze and without saying a word, pulled back Julia’s sleeve. Even in the faint light that fell from Miguel’s office, the fingerprints were obvious. Meredith let the fabric drop, then she raised her suddenly hard gaze to Julia’s. “What in the hell’s going on here? A door doesn’t leave a bruise like that.”
“It’s nothing,” she insisted.
“Nothing, my ass.” Meredith shook her head in disgust, then jerked her thumb toward the window above them. “He did that to you, didn’t he?”
Julia debated how to answer, a heavy silence building between the two women. After a moment, she spoke. “You can’t do anything about this, Meredith. It would be best if you forgot what you just saw.”
“Best for who?” she snorted. “Not you, I’m sure.”
During their college years, everyone had called Meredith a superwoman because she’d righted every wrong she came across, regardless of the consequences. The last thing Julia needed was Meredith getting involved in her problems. The very last thing.
“I’m not important here, Meredith. Okay? And nothing is going to change that. Not even you.”
“If you’re not important, who is? The wife beater up there?”
“My son is,” Julia said, her voice vehement. “And I have to remember that above everything else.”
“Take him and leave.”
“It’s a little more complicated.”
“Nothing’s that complicated,” Meredith retorted. “Unless he keeps you a prisoner or something.”
With three glasses of wine and nerves stretched wire-thin, Julia felt her defenses slip, Meredith’s opening too perfect to resist. “Not ‘or something,’” she said grimly. “A prisoner is exactly what I am. He has my passport, all the cash, everything. I can’t leave.”
Meredith showed so little reaction it made Julia wonder why, but there was no stopping her now, her reckless words rushing out in a torrent. “It’s been that way from the beginning. I hate Miguel Ramirez with every bone in my body. If I could, I’d kill him with my bare hands and never look back.”
MEREDITH STARED at Julia with a gaze steady enough to be unnerving. Between the sudden tenseness and the dim light, she almost seemed a stranger. “Tell me more,” she commanded.
“There’s nothing more to tell,” Julia answered, her anger changing into bitterness. “Miguel is a very controlling, very angry man and I do what he says because I have no choice.”
“C’mon, Julia Anne. Everyone has a choice—”
Julia held up her hand. Meredith was the only person who ever used her middle name, and hearing it now brought back their dormitory days and the whispered confidences they’d shared in the middle of the night. Back then, their biggest problem had been how to arrange the loss of Julia’s virginity. As she thought of the hell her life had become, a bubble of hysteria formed in her throat, but she pushed it down.
“Tomas is the only thing I care about, and I would never leave him.”
“Take him with you.”
“I can’t. I have no funds, no assets, nothing. Even if I did manage—”
“Do your parents know what’s going on? I can’t believe they wouldn’t help you.”
