Pamela Clare - Striking Distance

But tonight she didn’t sleep, and she didn’t dream, Al-Nassar’s threat echoing in her mind.

JAVIER KNEW SOMETHING was wrong the moment he saw Laura’s face the next morning. She looked like she hadn’t slept, her eyes red from crying. She spent a few minutes with Klara and then asked to speak with Erik and Javier somewhere private. Erik led them to his office and shut the door.

Laura looked at neither of them but sat up straight, her face expressionless apart from the despair he saw in her eyes. “I have done a great deal of thinking and soul-searching, and I have decided to . . .” Her voice quavered. “I have decided to give Klara up for adoption to a Swedish family.”

Javier couldn’t believe what he’d heard. He found himself on his feet. “What the hell? You can’t be serious.”

“I think she is.” Erik motioned for Javier to sit down. “Laura, why don’t you tell us what has led you to this?”

“There are two reasons.” She cleared her throat. “The first and most important is safety. There is no way to know that Al-Nassar’s family or his followers won’t strike out at me or try to take Klara from me again. You heard Petras. ‘Being on a terrorist kill list is a lifetime commitment.’ The threat hasn’t gone away. What’s to stop them from coming after her and taking her the way you did, Javier?”

“ I’ll stop them.”

She gave him a soft smile. “I know you would do everything possible, even give your life for her if it came to it, but I don’t want you in harm’s way either. If Klara were adopted in secrecy here in Sweden, they’d never know what became of her.”

“We can hire security, get a team of guys—”

“Javier, please listen.” Laura closed her eyes for a moment, as if fighting to control her emotions. “There’s also the fact that her father is a convicted terrorist. If Klara grows up with me, she will learn the truth sooner rather than later. Someone will tell her, or she’ll read an article about me on the Internet. She will have to spend most of her life knowing that her father was a murderer and that she was born as the result of rape while her mother was in captivity. I want to spare her that.”

Javier felt like he’d been kicked in the chest, his rage so dark and thick that he could scarcely put it into words. “After all I did to get her for you, you’re just going to give her away?”

Laura met his gaze, tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Javier. But what you did—it wasn’t for nothing. Don’t you see? You freed her. You got her away from a group of killers who would have given her a terrible life. I can’t change the choice you made, but your choice saved her. Now, it’s up to me to do what’s best for her.”

“I love her. I love that little girl. I held her in my arms all the way here.”

And Javier realized that this was at the heart of his rage.

He loved little Klara. The thought of losing her . . .

“I love her, too, and that’s why I have to give her up. I won’t put her at risk or compromise her happiness for the sake of my own.” Laura looked pleadingly at Javier as if begging him to understand. “I want her to grow up knowing only that she is safe and cherished. I don’t want the ugliness of my captivity with her biological father to be the first page in the story of her life. I don’t want her to grow up looking over her shoulder and knowing she’s the daughter of a mass murderer.”

Laura’s words began to pierce his anger and grief. He reached over and took her hand. “You know I’d do anything and everything to keep your little girl safe.”

She nodded. “You’ve already done more than any other man could.”

Erik’s face was grave. “Are you absolutely certain, Laura?”

She nodded. “Yes, I am. I would like to find a family that would be willing to send me photographs and let my mother and grandmother visit her from time to time—if it is safe.”

“Do Birgitta and Inga know about your decision?”

“I told them this morning. They are very upset, of course, but they understand.”

“If you are certain, then might I suggest an adoptive family, one that meets the criteria you listed?” Erik asked. “Heidi and I would love to adopt your little girl.”

IT WAS SETTLED very quietly and very efficiently.

Over the course of the next week, Klara was given Swedish citizenship. Adoption papers were drawn up and signed. Laura taught Heidi some basic Arabic words to help her communicate with Klara until Klara learned Swedish. Erik and Heidi held a private christening ceremony at the nearby Lutheran church where Laura stood as godmother to her own child, Javier and her mother and grandmother standing beside her.

“What is the child’s name?” the priest asked.

Erik and Heidi gave Laura the honor of making that announcement.

Laura felt a moment of triumph speaking her daughter’s true name. “Her name is Klara Marie.”

Laura spent her last morning in Stockholm feeding Klara breakfast, playing with her, reading to her, doing her best to memorize the sound of her little voice, the sweet scent of her skin, the feel of her in her arms. When it was time for Klara’s nap, Laura settled her in her crib, stroking her downy hair until she fell asleep.

“I am so sorry, Klara. I’m sorry you came into the world in such a rough way. I’m sorry these past several days have been so scary for you. And I’m so sorry I have to leave you now. But it’s best for you this way. Heidi and Erik will love you. Stella and Anette will be your big sisters. You will have a family to love and cherish you. I will see you again one day. I love you with everything I am, Klara, and I always will, no matter how far apart we are. Sleep, my girl. Dream of angels.”

She felt Javier behind her.

“The car is here, bella . Our luggage is loaded. It’s time to go.”

Laura nodded, bent down, and pressed a kiss to Klara’s cheek.

Somehow, she managed to walk away from the crib without crying, something inside her screaming that Klara was hers. Her daughter. Her child. Taking one wooden step after another, she followed Erik and Heidi as they and their twins walked her and Javier to the waiting car.

“We will take care of her, Laura.” Heidi hugged her tightly, tears in her eyes. “Thank you for the beautiful gift you have given us.”

“We’ll be in touch every week.” Erik gave Laura a hug. “You are a very courageous woman. I promise you that Klara will learn the truth when she is ready, and she will be proud to be your daughter.”

“Thank you—for everything,” Laura said.

Javier helped her into the backseat, then sat beside her. And the car began to move—out the gate, down the street, around the corner.

And Laura broke.

With a cry, she sank against Javier, her grief spilling out in broken sobs.

FEELING HELPLESS, JAVIER held Laura tight all the way to the airport. He held her on the twelve-hour flight to New York. He held her on the connecting flight to Denver. He held her on the cab ride from Denver International Airport to her loft. He held her as she cried herself to sleep.

He held her because there was nothing else he could do—and because some part of his heart had broken, too.

LAURA AWOKE TO find herself still nestled in Javier’s arms, his head on her pillow. But she wasn’t ready to face the day—or the rawness of her own emotions. She snuggled against his chest and let herself doze, the steady beating of his heart against her cheek.

It was almost noon when her stomach woke her.