by Nana Malone
But instead of lying there, she probed for the cutting board to use as a shield. Her fingers wrapped around the knife handle instead. Shaking, she gripped it tight.
Over the years, she’d lost count of the number of times he’d hit her. Once, she’d even tried to run home. Her mother had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that Evan was the kind of man Abbie needed in her life. And she had better learn how to please him because she wasn’t going to do much better than a Peters.
Her mother had also pointed out that Even would be powerful someday and Abbie would benefit from that. Abbie had learned that day not to go running home with her problems. Once, she considered telling her father, but that would end in bloodshed, either with her father dead or in jail for murder. Neither outcome was acceptable. So, as always, she suffered alone.
When Evan spoke, his voiced sounded controlled, but Abbie didn’t buy it.
“You know better than to provoke me. I don’t want to hurt you, but Abena, you cannot speak to me like that. Are we clear?”
Decision time. She could nod her head and say yes. Or for once, she could stand up to the person who’d hurt her over and over again. The person who’d deliberately tried to keep her dream from her.
With the taste of blood in her mouth and her heart hammering in her chest, she tilted her head to meet his gaze as fury chased away the fear. Slipping the knife between their bodies, she glared at him. “No. Not clear. You have two minutes to get the hell out of my house, or I swear before God, I will not be the only one bleeding in this kitchen today.”
Evan blinked hard, then blinked again, as if he couldn’t believe his ears. “Abbie…” His voice held a hint of warning.
Her hands shook slightly as hysteria threatened to take over. “Fine, have it your way.” The tip of the knife sliced at his T-shirt as she pressed just enough to show him she meant business. The rush of euphoric triumph when the blade carved through skin was hard to ignore.
With a wince, Evan stumbled backward and fell on his ass. “Abbie, calm the fuck down. Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. We can talk this out.”
“We won’t be talking anything out. You now have sixty seconds to get out.” She dug into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. “Or do I have to call the police? Imagine what that will do to a political career not yet started.”
His face paled. “You know my family has enough money to make any charges go away.”
“Maybe, asshole, but the media just loves a smear campaign. Just another example of rich kids behaving badly.” She knew she’d hit a nerve.
“Listen to me, Abbie.”
“Thirty seconds.” She forced her body into a wide stance, knife held with both hands and pointed in his direction.
Eyes wide with panic, he pushed himself to his feet and headed for the front door with his back to the exit. “Okay. I’ll go, but we’re not done talking yet. I’ll call you later, and we’ll talk this out calmly, when you’ve had a moment to think about things.”
“You won’t be calling me because we’re done. I will never lay eyes on you again. Ten seconds.”
When he reached the front door, he turned and strode through, then slammed it shut behind him. Despite the auto locks, Abbie still ran and engaged the deadbolt. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, making her shaky, as she sank to the floor in the foyer.
Jesus, had she just done that? Her body shook with adrenaline. She’d broken up with Evan. Hell, she’d all but threatened to kill him. Now what the hell was she supposed to do?
She laid her head against the door and stared up at the engaged deadbolt. Even though her body shook, her logical thinking functions kicked in. “First things first.”
She pulled out her phone and called a locksmith. The call after that was the most important she’d ever made in her life. She clenched and unclenched her fists as she listened to the double ringing, willing the line to be answered.
“Hiya, this is Tamsin.”
She tried to steady her voice, but it trembled nevertheless. “Tams? It’s Abbie. I need a place to stay.”
49
London
Three Days Later
Alexi Chase thrashed as the darkness threatened to overtake him. “No. Please. We’ll be good. Please…Don’t hurt him.” Wet, cloying, cold wracked his body with shivers. Distantly, he saw a figure silhouetted by light, and he reached for it. Desperate for help and companionship, he twisted to try to reach it, but the silhouette remained forever out of range. When the darkness overtook, burning pain seared through his body.
With a cough and a silent strangled cry, Lex bolted upright in bed, panting for air. Sweat clung to his skin, and his sheets were twisted around his legs. He freed himself and dragged his now-wetT-shirt over his head, then tossed it toward the hamper. It used to be months and months between nightmares, now it was days. Any first year psychology student could tell him it was stress. His birthday was coming up, and with it, the anniversary of the one night he never wanted to remember.
But the impending sale of his small software company meant freedom. Not just financially, but from the oppressive disappointment of his family, especially his father. Though, what he wouldn’t give for a week of dreamless nights.
Throwing off the sheets, he climbed out of bed and stalked to the dresser. As he dragged on a new T-shirt, he noticed the light coming from underneath the door. He padded into the living room to find the television still on and a lithe brunette huddled in the corner of his couch with a quilted throw slung around her shoulders. “Gemma, what are you still doing up?”
She turned wide eyes toward him. “I got caught up watching horror movies, and then I couldn’t sleep.”
“Yeah, well, that makes two of us.” He shrugged.
She narrowed her gaze and studied him. “Another nightmare?”
He stiffened. He didn’t like her knowing about his demons. “No big deal. I’m going to get some water and head back to bed.” He glanced at the clock over the television. It was only one thirty. He’d only managed an hour and a half of sleep so far. “I assume you’re staying the night?”
Gemma nodded. “Yeah. I’m knackered. No point driving back to the house just to go crash in bed at home when I can sleep here.”
Lex only nodded. Gemma crashing at his place was nothing new. “Should I bother telling you that the guestroom is all made up, or are you planning on sleeping on the couch?”
She grinned sheepishly. “I could fib and tell you I’m going to bed, but we both know I’m just going to pass out right here.”
He shook his head. Since University, they’d spent too many nights like this. Neither of them wanting to go home or be alone. To the outside world, they were the perfect couple. No one would believe it if they knew the truth behind the veil. That for years he’d been protecting her, pretending to be her boyfriend. If anyone found out she was into girls, she’d lose everything, and he wasn’t going to let that happen.
“Your dad at home?”
She nodded but didn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah, so I figured it best to avoid him as much as possible while he’s here. It’s only for a week, then back to normal.”
Gemma didn’t have to explain avoiding her father to Lex. The old man traveled on business most of the time and only came home for a week out of the month. While home, he generally made Gemma’s life hell with his bigoted views and domineering attitude. “Stay as long as you like.”
“Thanks.” She scratched her nose. “Uhm, Lex?”
“Yeah, Gem?”
“You’re a really good friend to let me crash and stuff.”
Lex crossed his arms over his chest. He knew where the meandering path she’d taken would lead, and he was in no mood for sharing. “Stop. It’s what you would do for me.”
“Yeah. I suppose. Just, you know, after everything we’ve been through, and everything you’ve done for me, you never let me be there for you.”
He forced a casual smile. “That’s because I don’t need
anything. When I do, you’ll be the first I call.” In another life, if things had been different, maybe he and Gemma would have been the perfect couple they portrayed.
“Lex, I notice, you know. The nightmares. The fact that you talk, sometimes shout in your sleep. I notice.”
Fuck. What dark and slithering secret had his brain released when he’d been too out of it to control himself?
“What do I say in my sleep?” He cocked his head and tried for a look that was humored and indifferent. “Am I calling out Giselle Bunchen’s name? Because that’s entirely possible.”
Gemma flattened her lips. “You never really say anything I can understand, but that’s not the point. I love you, so I worry.” She slid her gaze away. “Maybe you can talk to Xander.”
He gritted his teeth. He was not going to call his brother. That was the last person he could talk to about any of this shit. He worked hard to school his expression. “I appreciate the concern. Honestly, I do. But you have nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep.”
Instead of heading for the kitchen, he headed back for the bedroom—he didn’t want her watching him too closely. She thought she wanted to know his secrets, but the darkness inside him would change how she looked at him forever. She wouldn’t love a killer.
In the morning, Lex was still foggy from lack of sleep, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have work to do.
“Are you two sure you want to sell this company? With venture capital funding, you can expand the lifestyle brand of Take Back the Night.” Annabel Smith, their solicitor, asked Nick and Lex carefully.
They glanced at each other briefly before they both nodded.
Lex spoke first. “Nick and I have given this a good deal of thought. We want to eventually become the venture capitalists for small scrappy companies like this and prepare them either for sale, like we’re doing, or to go public. A lot of people out there have great ideas but don’t know how to follow through. We’ve figured out how. We might do another small company again and sell that to make sure our feet are well and properly sodden, but we’re selling.”
Nick added, “We want to strike while the iron’s hot. Before someone else comes and tries to copy it with something subpar. First to market is key.”
She nodded. “And Toshino, Inc. is banking on that with their purchase. But their team has asked again if you won’t both stay on to run it and lend your names to increase the value.”
“That’s a nonstarter,” Lex said.
Nick agreed. “Look, Annabelle, we’ve both worked hard to distance ourselves from our pasts. My name might tarnish the brand. While this is meant to be an app for the want-to-be jetsetter, Take Back the Night is still aiming for the elite kind of clientele. That’s the whole point. If you start attaching the name Wexler to it, you’ll get every low level sleaze ball from here to Dubai who wants to party with the big boys. Our business clients bank on the exclusivity and the class. They won’t be thrilled with riff raff joining up. And unfortunately, the Wexler name comes with riff raff.”
She sighed and swished her red hair over her shoulder. “Any way to change your mind, Lex? The Chase name screams luxury. Hell, even royalty. We’ve already taken the steps to protect you from your father’s corporate raiding.”
Lex might have different reasons than Nick for keeping his anonymity, but he was still not lending his name. “Sorry, Annabelle, no can do. Even if we do manage to keep the sale quiet until it’s final, when my father does find out, he’s going to make attempts to block it. To try to claim it for CET. I want to be as separate from him as humanly possible.”
She shook her head, no doubt lamenting the loss of additional commission if she’d garnered them a bigger deal. “Very well. Toshino, Inc. is presenting this as their offer.” She slid the paperwork in their direction. “It’s understandably smaller because of the removed brand recognition. But it should make the two of you happy.”
The offer was in the ballpark of what Lex had expected. And it meant he could tell his father to shove it. “That’s fair.”
“That’s a lot of fucking zeros,” Nick mumbled.
“Well, you fronted the initial capital so you should know the valuation,” Lex said.
Nick’s eyes bugged. “Yeah, mate, but it’s one thing to know theoretically what it’s worth. It’s another, entirely, to see that number put down in front of you.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “To be honest, Lex, I thought you were full of bollocks.”
Lex laughed. “So you sunk your money into something you thought was bullshit?”
“More like I sunk it because you told me to. I have faith in you, but I couldn’t see what you could see. But fuck, mate. I see it now.”
Lex wasn’t sure if he should laugh or sucker punch him. “Well, thank you for the glowing endorsement.” He turned his attention to Annabel. “Are they still insisting I sit as CEO?”
She nodded. “Yes, you’ll see it in line 4 section A. You’re to sit as CEO for a term no shorter than six months following the sale of the company. At the end of that term, they will pay you a generous severance.” Her smile grew broader. “Between now and then, as long as you two don’t receive any undue negative press, you’ll be golden.”
Lex barely heard what she said the rest of the meeting. All he knew was his freedom was so close he could taste it.
50
It’s not exactly like I ran away from home.
Abbie burrowed deeper under the covers. Packing up all her things and leaving DC behind for London was the right move. Wasn’t it?
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand once again, and she dragged the duvet cover over her head. Maybe if she blocked out the sound, along with the rare English sunlight, her nightmare would all go away and she could return to her happy dream state.
The phone buzzed again, insistent that she look at it.
No.
It could be her mother, one of her sisters, or maybe her father. Worse, it could be Evan. Her stomach rolled at the memory of the last time she’d seen him. The way he’d looked at her. What she’d done.
Her brain involuntarily returned to that night. After she’d made her phone calls, she cleaned up and packed while she waited for the locksmith. She fired a quick letter of acceptance off to London, and she planned. She had one goal: be out of the damn house before Evan came back. She’d never packed so quickly in her entire life. She’d left instructions with her sister about what to do about her apartment and car, and she’d been on a plane to London. Thousands of miles from Evan and her old life.
Her phone buzzed again.
“Damn it.” She snaked a hand out from under her duvet, and chilly air greeted her flesh. She fumbled around for the side table, eventually banging her wrist on the corner. Ouch. If that wasn’t an omen, she didn’t know what was.
When her fingers closed around the phone, she dragged it in with her. “Okay, world, what the hell do you want from me?” She mumbled.
Three text messages. Fantastic.
The first was from her mother.
Abena, call me immediately. I want to make sure you’re safe. Make sure you call me.
Abbie rolled her eyes. She’d already called her mother. And left her a voicemail. But her mother had a way of ignoring things that didn’t specifically fit what she wanted. And Helen Nartey didn’t want a voicemail. She wanted a live convo so she could try to berate Abbie into coming back to DC.
Next message was from her sister, Akos, the lawyer.
Abbie, we need to discuss your arrangements with the apartment. I served Evan with documents stating he has to vacate so you can sublet the place. You need to call me to review details.
Crap. This was the last thing she wanted to deal with.
Third message was from Evan.
Call me, we need to talk. Your sister wants me out of our place. I need some time to find somewhere else to go. Where are you? I called your sister, and she said you weren’t there but wouldn’t tell me where you’d gone. Call me!!
&nbs
p; She waited for the slice of pain. But nothing came. Just gray numbness. She felt free to go ahead and delete his message.
The phone buzzed in her hand again, causing it to tingle. God. Maybe she should have left the stupid thing back home. Started fresh.
The last text was from her sister, Ama.
I think you’re brave.
Abbie smiled. Of course, Ama would support her. Silently, if not out loud to the rest of the family. But still she supported her. And that’s why Abbie loved her.
Abbie tried to close her eyes again to catch another sliver of elusive sleep, but it was no use. Thanks to her family’s reach out and touch someone campaign, she was awake now. And the sounds from the kitchen told her that Tamsin, her best friend from college and new flatmate, was awake. Good old Tams. When Abbie had called, frantic and blubbering a few days ago, Tams had told her to get her Yankee ass on a plane and insisted she stay with her.
Abbie dragged her feet out of bed, and her toes immediately cursed her decision to move to London and not a warmer, more tropical locale. She rummaged in her suitcase for thicker socks. Note to self, must unpack.
Her phone buzzed again. Second note to self—get a different phone or at least a new chip. One that prevented her family from following her around and demanding all her time.
She shuffled into the living room and kitchen area to assess the damage Tamsin was doing to breakfast.
“Ah, good morning, love. How’d you sleep? I worried you’d be jetlagged. Then I realized, belatedly, that the room has no drapes. Normally it’s not a problem with the weather and all, but today it was sunny of all things, so of course, the sun was going to disturb your sleep and…”
That was Tamsin. She had a tendency to ramble and speak at the speed of light. Due to her thick Manchester twang, Abbie missed part of what her friend said, but she got the gist.
Tamsin bustled around the kitchen, yammering at a hundred miles an hour as Abbie walked over to her. She finally paused when Abbie stepped right in front of her and hugged her tight. Abbie wasn’t big on hugging. Any kind of touching usually made her uncomfortable. But in instances like this, sometimes a hug was called for. Without even knowing it, Tamsin had saved her life. She was the reason Abbie could breathe for the first time in years.
