Fuck. Shit.
“What? You’re kidding me. How did I not know this?” Eden shrugged, then seemed to think back. “I guess you were in the SEALs at the time. He might have left town before you returned. I can’t quite remember.”
He still didn’t know how he didn’t know that.
Maybe because you’re too involved in your own life to see what’s going on around you?
He’d told himself that he needed to concentrate on business. He’d thrown himself into it. Not just to make it a success. Or to give other ex-military personnel a safe place, somewhere they could work where they were valued. Where they were still part of something. But also, to chase away his demons.
But he knew he hadn’t paid much attention to what went on in Wishingbone. He’d only cared as far as it concerned him or the people on Sanctuary.
“So, he definitely doesn’t live here anymore? She has nothing to do with him?”
“I don’t know Abby that well. But I probably would have heard if he was back.” Eden gave him a curious look. “You seem awfully concerned about Abby’s brother. Especially considering you won’t even go check on her for me.”
“It’s best I stay away from Abby right now,” he said without thinking first.
“Really? Why is that?”
“That is none of your business, boo. Now, did you have breakfast? Because I’m starved. Think Charlie might take pity on me and whip me up some pancakes?”
Eden snorted. “You know she will. But don’t think I know what you’re doing. Something happen with you and Abby?”
“No. Nothing. I’m just too busy to go check on her. I’ll send Macca. She’s met him before.”
Coward.
He ignored the sick feeling that bubbled in his gut at the thought of how the other man might care for her. It would be a good thing if they developed feelings for each other. Macca was just the sort of man she needed. She needed someone to build up her self-esteem. To make her see how beautiful she was. To protect and guide her.
Yep, he was perfect for her.
And now Kent really wanted to punch his face in.
THE FIRST THING SHE noticed was that the front door was ajar.
Her heart raced. Her body started to shake. She tightened her hold on the bag of groceries in her hand. What should she do?
Call the cops, Abby.
Right. Right. Only problem was her phone was dead and her neighbors weren’t the type of people who’d welcome the cops bearing down on their doorstep.
Maybe she’d just forgotten to lock it this morning. She gulped. Except she knew she hadn’t. Was it the guy who’d approached her in the diner parking lot the other night? Had he broken into her house? Her mind went to the card in her top drawer.
No. Nope, not happening. She wasn’t calling him.
He had made it abundantly clear that he was just repaying a debt the other night. That she wasn’t his type. Oh, he’d tried to soften the blow by saying he wasn’t what she needed.
But how did he expect her to believe that? He was gorgeous, smart, rich, strong and kind to his sister.
She’d finally managed to read between the lines and figured out what he’d really meant. Then she’d gotten angry. After a few days, that had worn off and now she was just sad. Lonely.
And apparently, the victim of a break-in.
Seriously, what sort of an idiot would break into her place? Wasn’t it obvious from the outside that she had nothing worth stealing?
Her temper stirred. Like she needed this right now? Wasn’t the universe sending enough crap her way, now she had to deal with this too? She didn’t have the money to replace the door let alone anything else this asshole had taken or destroyed.
She gasped as she remembered the one thing in the house that might be worth stealing.
Her precious T.V.
Her outrage gave her enough courage to push the door open with her foot, step inside and yell out, “if you’re still in there, you might want to run now because I’ve called the cops and they’ll be here any minute.”
Someone walked out of the living room. Only they weren’t running. And they weren’t trying to hide who they were. Dark, angry eyes turned on her.
“You better fucking not have.”
Chapter Eight
The bag of groceries slipped from her hand. She winced as it hit the floor, knowing the likelihood of her having an omelet for dinner had probably just been destroyed. But that was a fleeting thought, since most of her attention was on the man standing too close to her.
He’d been a cute kid with his dark hair and olive skin. He had a tall, thin build. Although he was leaning towards gaunt at the moment. Worry stirred and she pushed it aside.
He’d never cared about her. Except, for when he was younger. And that was why she couldn’t let go. Because every time she tried to pretend she didn’t care, she remembered the sweet little boy who’d hold her hand as they hid under her bed while her mother fucked whoever she’d brought home that night.
Abby had often wondered whether her mom brought those men home for fun or if she’d charged them. Then she’d decided she didn’t want to know.
They had to have different fathers. Even though neither of them knew who their father was. Abby’s hair was a lot lighter, her skin far paler.
None of which really mattered right now, since he’d just broken into her house and scared the living daylights out of her. And made her drop a bag of groceries that were supposed to last her a week.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“You better fucking not have called the cops!”
Before she realized what he was doing, Max had his hand wrapped around her wrist and was yanking her forward. Her foot connected with the bag, sending food flying.
“Fuck! You’re making a fucking mess, Abby!”
“Me?” she snapped back, trying to free her hand. “You’re the one who broke into my house, damaged the door and scared the shit out of me. What do you think you are doing! And let go of my wrist, you’re hurting me.”
“You’re gonna get fucking hurt worse if the cops come here.” He slammed her back against the wall, kicking the door shut before letting go of her wrist. She cradled it to her chest as it throbbed, knowing it was going to bruise. Hoping like hell he hadn’t done more damage. The last thing she needed was to be unable to work.
Max loomed over her and her heart raced. She knew he was capable of violence. It was the drugs. He never really meant to hurt her. Or at least that’s what she told herself. With him standing so close that the stale scent of his sweat and the stink of tobacco clogged her nose, and the heat of pure fury in his eyes, it was hard to believe that he wasn’t very much intent on doing her harm.
“Did you call the fucking cops?” he spat out. She shuddered as bits of saliva hit her face. Gross.
“No,” she muttered. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say. Maybe she should have said yes and he would have taken off.
He let out a deep breath, taking a step back and running his hand through his scruffy, greasy hair.
“Shit, Abby, you scared ten years off my life.” He certainly looked a good decade older than twenty-two. His clothes were stained and hung on his skinny frame. And there was a hunted feel to him. His eyes darted around as though he was expecting someone to jump out at him at any moment.
Definitely on something.
Tread carefully, Abby.
“What do you want, Max? What are you doing here? Are...are the cops after you?” A pretty good assumption considering what he did. And how he’d just threatened her when he thought she’d called them.
“Cops? I don’t care about the fucking cops. Bunch of pussies chasing their own tails.” He barked out a laugh.
“Then why did you just threaten to hurt me?” she asked. She probably shouldn’t ask. Sometimes those sorts of questions tended to backfire on her.
He turned so quickly towards her that she flinched back, having to hold back a whimper of fear. She hated that she was so scared of him.
She wished she could stand up to him. Could tell him to get lost.
“Why do you look so scared, Abby?” he asked in a soft voice. And in that moment, he almost sounded like her brother. Like the boy she’d helped raise. But she knew he wasn’t. He was dangerous. An addict. And like any addict he’d do what he needed to in order to get his next fix. And if he hurt her along the way then so be it. He gently touched her cheek. “I’d never hurt you, Abs.”
She didn’t tell him that her wrist was already swelling. Or that he’d broken into her house. She just stood there and wished he’d stop touching her. Because it made her skin crawl.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
“I wasn’t threatening you. You’re my sister, I’d never hurt you. But I can’t be spotted here. There are people after me. Bad people. Lucky, I found the spare key so I didn’t have to wait outside or break in.”
Shoot. Why had she put out a spare key after the locks had been changed? She’d put it in a different spot, but he’d obviously had no problem finding it. He strode into the living room and peered through the front window.
“They could be out there, waiting for me,” he muttered.
Okay, now he was really freaking out for real.
“Who could be? Is it the same people that say you took something from them?”
He turned, stormed over to her and she wished she hadn’t said anything. She bit back a whimper as he came closer. Fuck. She wished she had her baton handy, but it was under her bed where she usually kept it.
Okay, was she really thinking about using a baton on her own brother?
As he got into her space, intimidating her, she realized that she was. At some stage, she was pretty certain he was going to completely lose it and hurt her. Oh, he might feel remorseful afterwards maybe. But the damage would be done.
She had to protect herself. She might not be a fighter. But there was no one else going to do it.
Again, she thought of the card in her top drawer. No. She was on her own. Besides, it wasn’t like Max was going to let her go charge her phone, find the card then make a call to Kent.
She licked her dry lips.
“What do you know of it?” he snarled.
“Some...some man approached me after work the other night. He...he said that you have something his boss wants. He wanted to know where you were. I told him I didn’t know but that I would find out.”
And that had kept her awake and restless these past few nights.
“Fuck! Fuck! Can’t believe they fucking came to you!” He paced back and forth.
“What does he want? Can’t you give it to him?”
“No, I can’t fucking give it to him! It’s my pay-day, I just need to work out how to cash in. I just have to hide for a bit. I need cash.”
“I-I don’t have any money.”
She gasped as he grabbed her upper arms in a powerful grip.
“Fuck, Abby! I’m desperate.”
“And I’m sick of bailing you out of trouble all the time!” she exploded, surprising herself as much as him. That was probably the only reason she managed to break his hold on her.
“I have to go. These are not men you fuck around with!”
“Then why did you get messed up with them? I’m already paying off Mr. Markovich for you.”
Max snorted. “Markovich has got nothing on these fucking guys. He looks like a goddamn teddy bear in comparison. “
Why did she stay here? Why didn’t she sell the house and disappear to somewhere he couldn’t find her? A sense of rightness came over her. It was the only thing to do. She’d sell and disappear. Couldn’t be that hard, right?
It made her feel a slightly ill to leave him in a mess. But he brought this on himself. And at some stage she had to decide just where the limit was. How far she was willing to go for him?
Was she willing to die for him? Because she was very much scared that’s where this was going to end up, with her being murdered because of his choices. His actions.
Well, fuck him.
Okay, so they were brave words. And she wasn’t really sure she had the courage to back them up. But just as she was trying to decide how to get rid of him, because there was no way she was staying in this house with him, she heard a vehicle pull up outside. Max darted to the side of the window and pulled back the screen curtain slightly
“Who the fuck is that? Shit. It’s one of those uptight holier-than-thou prick heads from Sanctuary Ranch.”
“How do you know?” she asked. Was it Kent?
“It’s written on the side of his truck, of course.” His voice clearly told her she was an idiot.
Patience. Just get rid of him. Then she could figure out a way to get out of here. How long would it take to sell her house?
Or maybe she should just move and leave it behind? Take her paycheck and go.
It wouldn’t be enough to get her far. Probably not enough to buy one of those fake identities. How did someone go about finding a person who made a fake identity? She guessed Max would know.
A knock at the door had her startling. Her brother turned to her. “No one can know I’m here. Got it?”
“What if he wants to come in? Maybe you should leave.”
He shook his head. “Need a place to stay for a bit.”
Oh God, he was staying? She had to wrap her arms around her, jumping as another knock hit the door, this one a bit more impatient.
“Get rid of him, Abby. Or else.”
Chapter Nine
She walked to the door and took a steadying breath. She glanced over her shoulder once to where Max stood. He scowled at her threateningly.
With a shaking hand, she opened the door.
Surprise filled her as she saw it wasn’t Kent standing there. Followed promptly by disappointment. She squelched that. She didn’t want it to be Kent. He was a jerk. He’d kissed her, then told her it had been a mistake.
So, she should be relieved to see Macca standing there. And that’s what she tried to convince herself anyway.
“Macca, hi!” She made certain to keep her injured hand behind the door. Only opening it partway, in the hope he would get the hint that she was busy.
“Hi there, love. You okay?” His voice was easygoing, but there was an intense gleam in his eyes. For once she wasn’t focused on his movie star looks or that accent. She just knew she had to get him to leave. Or else.
She really didn’t know what ‘or else’ meant. She’d never thought of Max as a violent person. A liar, thief and jerk sure. But not violent. Only her throbbing arm spoke a different story. And if he could hurt her, his only family, then what would he do to Macca?
“Me? I’m fine. Nothing wrong with me.” She bobbed her head up and down, grinning like a Cheshire cat. His gaze narrowed and she realized she probably looked like an idiot.
Laying it on too thick, Abby.
Christ, she was so bad at lying. Seemed Max had gotten all that ability. She toned it down. Less of the crazy head bobbing.
“You are, huh?” he murmured.
“Really, I’m just tired. I was going to go have a nap. Can I do something for you?”
“I was just in town and thought I’d stop by to see if you’d gotten new tires for your car.” He raised an eyebrow and gazed at her car pointedly.
“Oh, right. Yes. I’ve just been so busy working that haven’t had time. But I’ll get that organized straight away.”
“They’re dangerous to drive on,” he said in a low voice that sent a shiver across her skin. “I don’t want you getting into an accident, so do it sooner rather than later, yeah?”
She nodded nervously. Those eyes studied her.
Jesus, Abby. Stop nodding. She stopped so abruptly that her neck muscles protested and she winced. Getting slammed against a wall was doing nothing for her tired body.
“Abby, what’s wrong?” he asked in a cajoling voice.
The urge to tell him was so strong that she actually had to bite down on her tongue to stop herself. Ouch. Not a gr
eat idea.
“Abby? You’re worrying me, love.”
She forced herself to relax, giving him a small smile. “You’re really sweet to worry about me but I promise I’m fine. Just tired. I really need to get going. It was nice seeing you. Bye.”
She shut the door and leaned against it, shaking. Her stomach bubbled. She hated being rude. Especially to someone who’d only ever been kind to her. Hell, she was polite to everyone. Even Gloria. She’d probably never see Macca again after practically shutting the door in his face. Sadness filled her and she glanced over at Max.
Yet again, something else he’d taken from her. It was bad enough he was the reason she had no money, had to work every hour she could. But now he was robbing her of the chance of making a friend. Okay, Macca was just being polite. He had only brought her car back because Kent got him to. But he didn’t have to come check on her.
She heard the truck drive away and Max moved to the window, pulling back the sheer curtain. “He’s gone. Jesus, thought he was never gonna leave. All that ‘love’ crap. As if women actually like that shit.”
She did. Okay, Macca didn’t stir her the way Kent did. She didn’t have that flash of attraction. But when he said love in that accent of his, she did melt slightly.
“And where the fuck is he from? England?”
“I think he’s Australian.”
Max just made a derisive noise. “You got any food? I’m starving.”
It was then she remembered the food strewn around the floor. Had Macca seen it? If he had, surely he would have said something.
But still, a nervous feeling developed in her stomach.
KENT GLANCED DOWN AT his phone. Why wasn’t he calling?
“Somewhere else you need to be, brother?” Clint asked him. He’d come to his brother’s place to...well...he wasn’t quite sure why he was here. He just felt out of sorts. He couldn’t work. Couldn’t focus.
“No. Sorry.”
He took a sip of coffee. He was seated at the breakfast bar across from Clint and Charlie. She’d made them both some huge sandwiches and herself a much smaller one. She took a big drink of her milk, leaving a white moustache on her top lip. He smiled, remembering how Abby had insisted that she didn’t drink milk.
Daddy's Sweet Girl (Montana Daddies, #3) Page 9
