Unafraid

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Unafraid Page 18

by Allie Harrison


  With his uninjured hand, Virgil reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Then he leaned closer and whispered. “I’ll talk to you soon.” He rattled off his cell number. “Think you can remember that?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s my cell, in case you want to reach me.” He paused. “While I’m on vacation.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He hated like hell to leave her in this cold place of death. It was worse than meeting her in the morgue. He just plain hated to leave her. It had been a long time since he was drawn to a woman, and it was impossible to ignore the pull.

  But he could never jeopardize the team.

  He gave her shoulder another squeeze. She reached up with one hand and placed hers over his. Her touch was gentle, and Virgil was certain she’d really touched a place deep in his soul where no one else had ever reached.

  He slipped away and followed his team up the stairs. It was even harder than leaving her.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  The bells chiming over the door drew Abby’s attention. She turned to see Charlie and five other familiar college students come into her shop. One of whom was Sarah, the last kidnapped victim of the man known as the Necktie Killer. Luckily, he hadn’t been successful and made Sarah his last dead victim. Charlie waved to her as he and his group of friends made their way to one of two empty tables left.

  “The usual?” she called to him over the noise of the crowd.

  It was eight in the morning, the place was filled with people enjoying their morning coffee and her pastries. He gave her a thumbs up before he greeted his father, who was sitting at a table with the group of men he called his team.

  Right now, they were just enjoying coffee and donuts. But she had the feeling they had something they would want to discuss as soon as most of the students headed off to their nine o’clock classes. Every now and then, she met John’s gaze. The warmth of his gaze pulled her in. His smile held her there.

  She wondered if he realized he and his team sat at the table where she’d had sex with him that very first time, or that he sat at that spot while he enjoyed a cup of her fall spice coffee and a fried apple biscuit she’d purchased from the orchard where he’d taken her on their date. And although, yes, she cleaned her tables, she had graced every table in the shop with fancy spotted table clothes after that night.

  He winked at her, then turned his attention back to whatever one of his team member’s, Gil Trent, said.

  Next to Gil was Ellie, who had the day off but enjoyed spending time in the shop as long as she was with Gil. Abby couldn’t miss the way Gil never let go of her hand. Beside Ellie was Dell. Dell’s wife, Jacqueline, who seemed more dark and mysterious than Dell did, was seated on the other side of him. Then there was Monty, whose carrot-top red hair was one of the first things she focused on after being shot by that bastard, Bob Smith. Squeezed in around the table were the rest of the team: Orrey, who John had insisted stay with her when the rest of the team went after Bob Smith, Tex, Louis, who at this moment was adlibbing everyone’s horoscope which he read from the morning’s newspaper, Al, and Virgil. Sitting beside Virgil was the woman police detective Abby had seen on the news, Emily Benton.

  Although it had only been weeks since John first entered her shop, enjoyed her coffee, and sat together with the men of his team and discussed what John called a team plan, it felt like months, perhaps even years. And right now, there was not any team plan, just camaraderie as they all enjoyed Abby’s coffee and fresh coffee cake and fried apple donuts.

  Charlie greeted his dad with a hug. Tex said something in his Texas drawl that Abby didn’t catch, and John hugged Charlie tighter as if to show them all it could be done. She caught John’s gaze for another moment before she and Sally, another employee, finished making coffees for Charlie and his friends.

  The entire room was happy, filled with conversation and friendships. The pumpkins she’d picked with John graced her counter.

  As Abby looked at John and felt a fluttering of butterflies in her soul, she thought perhaps it was the budding of something more, something greater.

  With Charlie’s coffee in her hand, she turned to give it to him, only to find John standing there. He stood in the same place he’d stood when he asked her to have dinner with him.

  “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget I’m cooking dinner for you tonight after you close.”

  She felt like she might burst. “I’ll be there,” she promised, “by six-thirty.”

  “Hey, John! Bring another one of those apple donuts,” Louis called to him.

  Abby laughed. “I’ll get it for you.”

  “We should make him stop acting like an invalid and come up and get it himself.” Still the same, John took it when she handed him the plate with the pastry on it.

  Outside, cold rain pattered against her front windows. But inside the shop was exactly what Abby had always hoped to create—welcoming warmth with the right smell of coffee.

  The only shadow that hung over her was the letter on the counter from the department of corrections that she kept there to remind her of what she had to do. Weeks ago, she might not have gone, might not have been able to face that monster again.

  But now the feel of butterflies outweighed the sense of fear.

  Chapter Fifty

  Abby sat in the hall outside the hearing room. Carrying her coat and wearing a loose sweater, she knew she may well have to lift her sweater and reveal her stomach, show the parole board just what she wore every day thanks to the man who now hoped for his freedom.

  Her heart pounded and slid up her throat, threatening to choke her when a man in a uniform stepped out through nearby doors and called her name. On shaking legs that threatened to buckle beneath her, she stood and moved through the door he held open for her.

  She felt herself moving up the aisle between rows of folding chairs, uncertain how her legs knew where to take her, given she suddenly couldn’t get beyond the man who sat in the front row and stared at her. The memories of what he’d done to her flashed through her thoughts like a movie she didn’t need to see twice.

  For a moment, she couldn’t breathe.

  He stared at her. Good God, he was so much older and harder than what should have been six years and some change. She might not have recognized him if she had passed him on the street.

  She hadn’t realized she’d stopped moving.

  Then warmth touched her hand as another hand gripped hers and held.

  She turned and met John’s warm gaze.

  Abby sucked in a breath, able to get control, then. She looked beyond him and saw Monty and Tex seated, taking up part of a row of chairs. John leaned close. “You got this. And we’ve got your back.”

  She smiled, thinking any moment tears would spill over onto her cheeks.

  No, that would not happen. Not yet. Maybe later. Then again, maybe never.

  For now, this monster who had hurt her just because she wouldn’t date him, wouldn’t get out to do the same to someone else. She nodded, took a deep breath, feeling far from alone.

  John gave her hand a squeeze before he released it.

  Abby stepped forward. Unafraid.

  About the Author

  Allie Harrison lives in Southern Illinois. She enjoys writing suspense, thrillers, and paranormal, whatever it takes to keep the reader on the edge of the seat. When she isn’t writing or searching out her next hot hero, she stays busy with her family. If she doesn’t answer her phone, she’s probably out hiking, camping, biking, or getting lost in the next best seller.

  You can find her at:

  FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/Allie-Harrison-Author-106928505995715/

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  TWITTER: ImAllieHarrison

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  WEBSITE: www.AllieQuinn.com

 

 

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