Читать книгу Rogue President - D.K. Wilde - Страница 10

10.

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Crystal’s trip across the Atlantic had been like royalty. Dunstall had kept his promise and personally escorted her. The heavily tinted limousine did not look out of place as it sped through Washington and into the affluent upper middle class neighbourhood of Clarksville, Maryland. The driver turned the large vehicle into the driveway. A luxurious house, set on acreage, loomed ahead. Huge oak trees, encircled three sides of the house, proudly standing over manicured lawns. An American flag hung lifeless, on its pole, in the non existent breeze. Two ex SAS bodyguards leapt from the vehicle before it came to a halt. Scanning the surroundings, the first walked up the steps as the second tapped on the vehicle’s roof.

Trent Carters opened the door and limped out on to the large verandah. Crystal raced from the vehicle and threw her arms around her father. Dunstall smiled as he watched and signaled to his men to return. After many hugs and kisses Crystal turned to introduce her father only to see the limousine back slowly down the drive.

With the window down, Dunstall leaned out and said, “It was lovely to have met you Crystal and good luck to you both.” He waved and the window returned to its closed position.

“Who was that, dear?” asked Carters, leaning on his walking stick.

They went inside and sat on the beautifully appointed Edwardian lounge. The house was just as grand inside as out. Highly polished American oak floors gleamed in the sunlight. Large abstract framed art lined the walls. A spectacular vintage civil war bronzed cast mirror sat atop a freshly painted white fireplace surround. Crystal explained what had happened and why she was visiting. When finished and after looking around the room she asked, “Why have you got all these photos of mum and I scattered everywhere?”

Crystal felt shivers run down her back as she thought about the mother she had never known. She looked at the photos of the beautiful Columbian woman who had died giving birth to her. She watched her father, as she had many times before, sit transfixed on the photos of the only woman he could, or would, ever have loved.

A tear formed deep in her eye as the thought of her childhood returned. Her father had been a very successful businessman. She had grown up a privileged child having all the material items she could possibly want or desire. Selflessly her father gave all his time to being a parent, both mother and father and she loved him for the sacrifices he made. He forego opportunities to socialize with his peers and friends; to spend time with her. They would play games in the backyard with their dog. He would teach her to paint and draw. They would ride a horse and read a book together on rainy cold days.

But the strongest and most endearing memory was when they cooked together and she learnt her mother’s recipes. His dad called his wife Angel and would work away in the kitchen explaining things to Crystal as if her mother was standing beside them. It was the one time she felt they were a family together. She loved it and clung on to the memories.

Looking down he replied, “I’ve been missing you both and after what happened I don’t want to take my time left on planet earth for granted.”

“Oh dad. I’m missing you too,” she said as she stood and hugged him.

Her father had been attacked, beaten and left for dead by two unknown assailants who broke into his home. Punctured lung, broken ribs, both arms and a leg shattered, broken jaw he had spent time on life support. Even the family dog had been slaughtered. Wade and his team had hunted down and killed the attackers but Carters had paid the price and now struggled with everyday life; even with the aid of a cleaner, cook, nurse and gardener.

“Please come and live with us? It’s beautiful, warm and you’ll love it there,” pleaded Crystal knowing full well her father was too stubborn to leave his beloved USA.

“You know I was thinking I might do that,” he whispered.

“Dad that is fantastic. You’ll love it and it will be so nice to have you around.” She clasped her arms around his neck again.

Stepping back, she touched her belly. “I have some news.”

Her father stood watching as he looked from her eyes to her hand rubbing her stomach and back to her eyes.

“Are you …” he asked unable to get the words out.

“Yes,” she beamed. “You are going to be a grandfather.”

“Oh my dear,” he replied dropping into his chair. “That is wonderful. I’m so happy for you both. By the way where is Wade?”

“Saving the world. You know what he’s like.”

Rogue President

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