Chapter 36

Carly sat on the park bench watching Ciara play with her school friends, Landyn and Emma. It was Carly's day off, and when she had arrived at Ciara's nursery school to pick her up that afternoon, three adorable, pleading faces had peered up at her, begging for a play date in the park.

The other mothers had taken all of two seconds to kiss their children goodbye before dashing off for some mommy time. Ciara seemed to get along well with Landyn and Emma, and Carly was content to rest on the bench and watch them enjoy their afternoon in the park.

The baby performed a series of complicated somersaults in her womb, and Carly found herself turning inward, reflecting on the coming child. At twenty-eight weeks, she was in the last trimester of her pregnancy, but she was still carrying high. The baby was also in the breech position, but neither Carly nor Anne worried too much about her not turning in time for the birth.

Everyone in the burgeoning household was excited about the baby. And everyone had an opinion on a name. In fact, there was a notebook on the kitchen counter where they had taken to writing down all the different names that struck their fancies. Ava, Caitlyn, Rachel, Ellen, Lorelei, Elizabeth – the list grew with each passing day.

Victor, in some misguided effort to ingratiate himself to Carly and Bo, had sent over an ornate cradle that he had chosen for his newest granddaughter. Though Carly had to admit that it was an incredibly beautiful piece of furniture, she had scoffed at the gesture on principle because, after all, it had come from Victor Kiriakis – a man who didn't so much as brush his teeth without having an ulterior motive.

Caroline was knitting like a fiend and had created innumerable blankets, hats and booties in varying shades of pink. She had also presented Carly with the gown in which all the Brady children had been christened. "I only wish Shawn were here to welcome her," Caroline had confided tearily to Carly when giving her the gown. "I know he's watching over her from Heaven," Carly had replied.

Best of all, Carly thought privately, Hope had left them all alone. After a long and heated discussion with the rest of their family, Bo and Carly had decided to drop all charges against Hope, believing that by taking the high road, they could avoid any further unpleasant situations. Surprisingly the gesture had worked. Hope had been released from jail, and though she was still in Salem, she had stayed away from Carly and Bo, and most importantly, Ciara.

Things had been so peaceful that as Carly relaxed on the park bench and watched the children play, she felt as though she had finally come full circle in her life. When she'd broken into Bo's house last November, she would never have imagined in her most elaborate fantasies that a scant nine months later, she and Bo would be married and expecting a child. Carly found herself in one of life's perfect moments, when for just a brief span of time, one could truly say that all was right with the world.

Just then, the hair on the back of Carly's neck stood on end. Someone was behind her, of that she was certain. The years of Lawrence's abuse had left Carly with the innate ability to know when someone was watching her; Lawrence had been so fond of staring at her, for hours at a time, just before he would attack. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Her eyes immediately sought out the three small children in her care, who were climbing on the monkey bars and oblivious to their surroundings.

Knowing she had only one chance, Carly bolted off the bench and turned on her stalker with the vengeance of a lioness on the hunt. With strength resulting from an enormous adrenaline rush, Carly landed a well-placed kick to the groin of the burly man in the black Armani suit. While he was bent over clutching at his damaged parts, Carly took the opportunity to land a right hook to his jaw.

The man dropped like a stone, and Carly placed her high-heeled sandal across the vulnerable spot of his neck. The man looked up at her, something akin to panic in his eyes.

"Who sent you?" Carly demanded. When her prisoner failed to respond fast enough to suit her Carly pressed a bit with her foot. The man gagged and sputtered in an attempt to answer. Easing up a degree on his vocal cords, Carly repeated her question.

"Mr. Kiriakis," the man gasped. "I was hired by…Mr. Kiriakis…to protect you, Mrs. Brady!"

"Victor! Goddamn it! Does the man never listen?"

Agitated, Carly unwittingly put more pressure on her would-be protector's throat, causing him to flail his arms like a wounded bird in an attempt to get her attention.

"Oh, sorry," she muttered. Then, just before she relented completely, she fixed the man on the ground with an icy stare. "How do I know you're one of Victor's men?"

"Because it was Mr. Kiriakis who suggested a private security detail the evening after your husband's ex-wife was arrested. We've been following you for weeks, ma'am, to make certain that you came to no harm. However, it would seem that you are perfectly capable of self-preservation."

Carly glanced up in alarm at the man she had failed to notice. The man, sensing her fright, held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender. "Feel free to verify our identities with Mr. Kiriakis yourself, Mrs. Brady. And if you'll kindly release my counterpart, you have my word that we will be out of your hair, as it were, in no time."

Carly's eyes darted back and forth. She had no trouble whatsoever believing that Victor would take it upon himself to hire security guards, despite her protests that he shouldn't. Deciding that the Men in Black in front of her weren't an immediate threat, Carly sighed deeply and allowed the one on the ground to get up.

Springing to his feet, the man hurried to join his partner, warily watching Carly as though expecting her to take another swing at him. He dusted off his suit and attempted to assume the detached air of the other man. "I apologize for startling you, Mrs. Brady."

"Well, as you said, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Please pass that information along to your employer." Carly turned to make her way to the children, but spun around quickly and marched back over to the two rent-a-cops. "On second thought, I'll tell him."

Entering the house through the kitchen, Bo spotted Carly at the sink. She was washing vegetables and handing them to Carys. Bo didn't say a word; only wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed her soundly on the mouth.

"Hi," Carly was startled, yet pleased, with Bo's enthusiastic greeting. "What's gotten into you?"

"I have the most amazingly sexy, beautiful and loving wife, who tied my father in knots when she gave him a piece of her mind today."

"Heard about that, did you?"

Bo nodded, smiling. "Oh, yeah, in great detail, too. I think you even impressed Henderson."

"Well, maybe that'll teach to Victor to mind his own business. Honestly, how did he think I would react to an armed stalking service?" Carly was getting riled up again; a furious flush was creeping up her neck, and Bo wanted to smooth things over before she really got irate.

"Easy, Princess," Bo said, placing his hands on her shoulders and giving them a squeeze. "I think Victor heard you loud and clear, especially when you offered to demonstrate exactly how easily you could flatten any man that threatened you. I have a feeling dear, old Dad will think twice before going behind our backs again."

"Good."

Carly slipped her arms around Bo's neck and kissed him, a chaste, soft meeting of their mouths. "So how was your day; anything exciting happen in the seedy underbelly of Salem?"

"Other than hearing about how my pregnant wife nearly took some guy's head off at the park, no. I think all the bad guys split when they heard about what you did to Victor's security guard. In fact, things were so quiet that I decided to leave a little early."

"I like early," Carly murmured before closing the distance between her and Bo as much as her swollen belly would allow. They shared another kiss before the sound of a clearing throat drew their attention from one another.

"I thought I mentioned that I was completely opposed to seeing any of my parents cavorting in dining rooms," Chelsea teased. "Please note that the dining room rule now extends to witnessing any parental cavorting of any kind."

Bo laughed at Chelsea and threw his arm around her, drawing her into a side hug. He kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry, Chels. Your stepmom and I will keep our hands to ourselves."

"Yeah, right, I think a pig just flew by the kitchen." Chelsea rolled her eyes and stepped away from her dad to help herself to a banana from the fruit bowl.

"I changed my flight out tomorrow. Jack's last meeting was canceled, so I'm taking an earlier flight so we can have some more time together before I head back to London."

Chelsea had stayed on for an additional few weeks after her mother and Santana had gone back to London. She was supposed to go back to tie up a few loose ends before moving back to Salem for a longer stint. Bo didn't think it would be too long, however, before his daughter would be making another move – to New York.

Bo liked Jack Campbell very much, but the young lawyer had moved things along with Chelsea a little faster than her father cared for. As a matter of fact, that was the main reason Bo had come home early. He'd gotten a call from Jack that afternoon that had left him feeling a bit hollow and sad. Jack had asked Bo's permission to propose to Chelsea over the coming weekend.

After a conversation that lasted for more than an hour, Bo gave Jack his blessing. The boy loved Chelsea, of that Bo was certain. He'd wished Jack luck in talking to Billie, and hung up the phone chuckling at how the well-spoken attorney had turned into a stuttering fool when reminded that he'd have to get Chelsea's mother's approval, too. Then Bo had rushed home to share the news with Carly, only to have gotten waylaid by Victor, begging Bo's forgiveness for having alienated Carly.

"Dad, where'd you go just now?" Chelsea asked, pulling Bo out his memories.

"Huh, oh, nothing, I'm just thinking. So what time do I need to have you at the airport?"

"My flight leaves at 1:00 tomorrow afternoon. Then I'll spend the rest of the weekend with Jack and fly out of JFK at 6:30 Monday morning. Mom and Santana will pick me up at Heathrow."

"Then you'll be back here in a week, right?" Carly asked. She and Carys had gone back to cooking dinner – well, Carys had gone back to cooking and Carly had gone back to washing vegetables.

"Actually I think it might be closer to two, but I'll be back as quickly as I can. I want to be back in plenty of time to get things ready for little Elizabeth." Elizabeth was one of Chelsea's suggestions for baby names.

"You mean Rachel!" Melanie shouted, coming into the kitchen.

"I like Ellen," Carys remarked, and the three girls launched into Round 55 of Name the Baby. Soon enough, Ciara wandered into the kitchen and put in her own choices.

The name battle continued into dinner, and Carly and Bo enjoyed every moment of the fray. Along with Chelsea's departure tomorrow, Carys and Nicholas were going back to Alamania on Sunday. Nick had left things unattended for so long already, and Carly knew that he had to go handle the affairs of state that simply couldn't be managed half a world of way.

Knowing that two of their children would be leaving, even if it was only for a brief separation, put a damper on the otherwise happy family dinner. Still, Carly told herself that they would all be back together to welcome the baby, and that was a comfort to her.

Across town, in Room 151 of the Salem Inn, a man spoke into the disposable cell phone which had been provided for him by his as yet unknown employer.

"Look, I know what you said, but I'm telling you it won't be that easy."

The man took another drag of his Winston and listened intently to the words of his employer. "All right," he said to his boss. "You're the one paying the bills. Give me another week or so to nail down the details, and I'll have the particulars for you when you call again."

"I said I'd do it, didn't I?" he protested when his skills were questioned. "It just won't be as simple as I was led to believe. But it isn't anything that I can't handle. I just need to go about it from a different angle."

Disconnecting the call, the man leaned back against the chair and swallowed a healthy serving of his whisky. He'd get it done, all right, one way or another. And then he'd get the biggest, fucking pay out of his life.