by Cate Beauman
“Yes.”
They made their way down the hall to the small workout space equipped with weights, a bench, and an ancient treadmill. Jerrod opened the closet, pulling out a folded mat and set it on the floor. “So, I guess we’ll focus on the stun and run, which is the goal.” He peeled off his sweatshirt, exposing a dusty blue thermal top.
“Stun and run?”
“Surprise your attacker and get the hell out of there.”
She nodded.
“You’ve got several key spots you can aim for and cause serious damage—the eyes, nose, ears, throat, the package, and the knees.”
“Okay.” She nodded again, taking everything in.
“The eyes are pretty easy—scratch, gouge, claw, whatever you can do. We won’t demonstrate that one.”
She smiled. “We probably shouldn’t.”
“Let’s work on the nose. You’ll want to use the heel of your palm and push up, right here.” He put his hand above her top lip, showing her what he meant. “The more weight you put behind the action, the better.” He stepped closer. “Go ahead and make the movement on me—slowly. I don’t want anything broken before the dance.”
“I’ll try to control myself.” She smiled again as she stood on her tiptoes mirroring the position he’d demonstrated.
He took her wrist, pushing up on her hand slightly, tickling her skin with the scruff of his unshaven face. “That’s the motion you want but a hell of a lot harder. If you do this one right you should buy yourself enough time to get a good running start, or you could possibly disable your attacker all together.”
“I think I’ve got it.”
“Good. Now we’ll try something different using your elbow. We’re still focusing on the nose, but this is a tactic to use if someone grabs you from behind.” He turned his back to her, bending at the knees, making their height a bit more even. “Grab me and I’ll show you what I mean.”
She wrapped her arms around his solid waist.
He pivoted slightly and brought his elbow up to her nose. “See that?” He glanced over his shoulder.
“Yes.” She let go and he turned.
“Okay. I’ll come after you now. Are you going to be okay with that?”
She didn’t like anyone coming at her from behind, but she couldn’t practice if she wasn’t willing to try. “I think so.”
“If it’s too much, just say stop, and I’ll let you go.”
“All right.” She turned and her palms grew sweaty as his powerful arms came around her, lifting her off her feet. I’ve got you, Little Bitch. She froze, her heart kicking into high gear as Dimitri’s voice echoed in her head.
“Abby, bring your elbow up like I showed you.”
She gripped Jerrod’s forearms, wanting to break free, but she was powerless to move, paralyzed by her memories. You want to run, then I teach you lessons in the closet. The door slammed and the bar scraped into place, trapping her in the dark. Her breath rushed out, and she gasped for air.
Jerrod set her down, turning her to him, cupping her face in his hands. “Abigail, it’s okay.”
She clutched his wrists, struggling to keep her head from going light. “I almost got away. I snuck out of the basement and made it to the front door, but Dimitri caught me and shoved me in the closet.”
“Okay.” He stroked her cheek. “You’re safe here with me.”
She closed her eyes, swamped by utter defeat. “I hate this.” She looked at him again, concentrating on his steady blue eyes staring into hers and the gentle, comfort of his thumb moving along her cheek. “I hate that I freeze when I’m supposed to fight.”
“We’ll work on it.”
“Now.”
He shook his head. “You’ve had enough for today.”
She held his hands in place on her cheeks as he tried to pull away. “No. Right now. Grab me again.”
“Abby.”
“And again and again until I’m not afraid anymore.”
He studied her. “Tomorrow.”
It was her turn to shake her head. “Help me. Please.” She pressed her hands on his, willing him to feel her urgency. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I don’t want to hear his voice mocking me every time someone comes up behind me. I don’t want to think of that damn closet or how I could hardly breathe.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “But you tell me to stop if it gets to be too much.”
“I will.” But she was going to beat this tonight. She and Jerrod had their problems, but there was no one she trusted more to help her conquer her fears.
“Go ahead and turn. I’ll tell you the first few times until you’re more comfortable, then I’ll just grab.”
Nodding, she turned her back to him, slamming her eyes shut, preparing herself for the buckling fear.
“Here I come.” He scooped her up gently.
She gasped, gripping his arms as Little Bitch echoed through her head like a nightmare.
“Give me some fight, Abigail,” Jerrod said close to her ear.
“I—I can’t.”
He set her on her feet. “Let’s do this tomorrow. We’ll try again whenever you’re ready.”
Dimitri was winning. “No. Again.”
“All right. Coming at you,” he said before she could think and picked her up.
Her pulse pounded as she forced herself to keep her eyes open, but still she made no move to defend herself.
Jerrod dropped her to the mat.
She took several deep breaths and wiggled, shaking off the dredges of panic. “I think I’m ready. Try again, please.”
“Go,” he said as he moved in.
She sent her elbow back and gave aim to his nose.
“Whoa.” He dodged her arm and set her down.
She whirled with a triumphant whoop, jumping into his arm. “I did it.”
He held onto her, grinning. “You sure as hell did.”
She eased her head back, still clinging. “Don’t tell me this time.”
He nodded and they moved apart.
She turned her back to him, waiting, bracing herself, and he came up, yanking her up with such force she fought to stifle her scream.
“Fight, Abigail. Forget the damn fear and fight me. If someone’s coming after you they aren’t going to tell you first.”
Her heart pounded as she trembled, but she used her terror to send her arm back in the motion he’d shown her.
“Awesome.” He dropped her to her feet and clapped loudly twice. “Keep it coming.”
His enthusiasm motivated her, bolstering her confidence. She blew out several deep breaths while seconds passed, anticipating his next move. “Are you going to—” Her breath whooshed out as he ripped her off the mat, and her elbow flew back, connecting with his face.
“Ow!” He dropped her. “Damn.”
“Oh.” She whipped around. “Oh, Jerrod. I’m so sorry.”
He blinked, sending a tear coursing from his watering eyes as he pressed his hands to his face. “Bull’s eye,” he said, muffled and nasally.
“Let me see.” She pulled on his wrist. “Let me see,” she encouraged, examining his nose. “You’re not bleeding.”
“You’ve got that move down.”
“She pressed tenderly at the bridge of his nose then hugged him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He wrapped her in his arms, returning her embrace. “I’ll make it.”
She snuggled closer, pressing her head to his chest as his hand moved down her hair. She’d missed this simple comfort and the easy way they had with one another. She drew back enough to look at him, not ready to break their connection. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “And not just for hitting you.”
Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead to hers. “We’ve both made a few mistakes.”
She gripped her arms tighter around him. “Yeah,” she whispered.
He cupped her face in his hands. “Are you okay, Abby?”
She knew he asked about Margret’s death and
she blinked back tears. “No.”
He steamed out a breath. “I’m so damn sorry.”
“I wanted to save her.” A tear fell despite her best efforts. “I loved her so much.” She sniffled.
“I know you did.”
“I don’t know how to forgive myself for letting her down.”
“You tried.” He gripped her closer. “You tried, Abigail.”
“But it wasn’t enough.”
He shook his head. “No, it wasn’t, but she knows, Abby. I can promise you she knows you never gave up.”
Another tear fell as his words brought her a stirring of peace. “I hope so.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“This works pretty well.”
He brought her against him again.
Tim had offered her kindness, but this was what she needed. “Thank you for helping me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Kids.” Mary peeked in. “Oops, excuse me.”
Abby pulled away. “It’s okay. Do you need some help?”
“I do.” Mary looked from Abby to Jerrod. “There are several dishes that need to be brought to the truck. And I have some flowers out in the greenhouse.”
“Okay. Let’s get things together, then I’ll help you with your dress and makeup.”
Mary frowned. “No makeup.”
“Just a little.” She smiled at Jerrod, ready to put her sorrow away for a while and enjoy the people around her.
He winked.
Her smile widened as she grabbed his hand, following Mary down the hall, ready to brow beat the woman until she decided that a touch of makeup would be the perfect idea.
~~~~
Country music blasted through the O’Neils’ barn as Chuck and the Nebraska Reds rolled into their next song. Portable heaters warmed the huge space while hundreds of fairy lights twinkled, twisting around the rafters. Orange and yellow mums from mom’s greenhouse decorated tables loaded down with enough food to feed the hundred or so guests three times over. The banjo and fiddle, Stetson hats and bolo ties weren’t exactly Jerrod’s scene, but Abby was having fun.
She shuffled in her cowgirl boots, Tush Pushing along with the rest of the dancers in the center of the floor, turning with a sassy move of her hips in denim and plaid, smiling at Jerrod across the room. He gave her a subtle nod, pulling another long, cool sip of water from his bottle, certain she was trying to make him crazy in that outfit of hers.
Abby had managed to pull off country-girl sweet with a hint of city-girl sexy in her mid-thigh length skirt and plain white t-shirt she knotted at the waist and rolled at the sleeves. His gaze kept wandering from the two braids she’d twisted into her hair to the tiny tease of her stomach where denim and cotton separated, down her smooth, slim legs, but it was her gorgeous smiles she kept flashing his way that stoked the fires of this eye-crossing want.
He crossed his ankles as he leaned against a stack of hay bales, remembering the addicting flavor of her pretty, pouty mouth. He wanted another sample. He yearned to taste the rest of her…and what the hell was his problem? Clearing his throat, he drained the last of his drink, attempting to reign in his libido. He and Abby had finally cleared the air. She’d hugged him with abandon and confided in him the way she used to. He wasn’t about to mess everything up again by thinking about things that couldn’t happen. That’s how the whole damn mess started in the first place.
Her laugh floated over the music as she and Timmy turned in unison, wiggling their butts. Jerrod smiled, shaking his head, relieved to hear that silky sound. He wished he was the one making her laugh, instead of Tim, but seeing her happy was more important. Abby had been through hell the last few days. She’d taken the news of Margret’s death incredibly hard. Her sad, hollow eyes and quiet, late-night crying had ripped at him, and he’d been helpless to do more than stand back and watch while she suffered.
A night like this was just what she needed. Abby was in her element surrounded by music—whether it be country or her typical Top 40. She’d learned several new dances with Tim’s instruction, catching on within minutes, having the time of her life. He wanted this for her—fun, laughter. No one deserved it more than Abby.
Mom’s pretty blue dress caught his eye among the crowd. He could still hardly believe that was actually his mother. She was beautiful with the slight touch of makeup and her blond hair twisted into some fancy ‘do. Abby had pulled off the impossible with stunning results. For the first time in his life he watched Mary Quinn glow as she moved about the dance floor, with Caleb Conroy at her side.
Crossing his arms, he studied her closely. Mom seemed different somehow—outside of cosmetics and the twist in her hair. He narrowed his eyes, trying to put his finger on what had changed. Then she grinned and a dozen years vanished from her face; the strain he’d never noticed around her mouth disappeared. In an instant she was young and carefree, like the pictures he remembered from her high school yearbooks. He blinked, realizing Mom looked happy in a way she hadn’t...ever. He frowned, wondering if twenty-eight years of marriage to somber Donald Quinn put the usual serious look in her eyes. Mom and dad had rarely smiled when he was growing up; they’d laughed even less. They were always busy with the farm and dad’s responsibilities to the town. Women like to hear the words from time to time. Did dad ever give Mom the words she’d wanted and needed or stop to hug his wife?
Looking at Abby, his frown deepened, as she and Timmy laughed, turning in a do-si-do, remembering his mother telling him that he and dad were alike when it came to showing emotion. He didn’t want to be like his father in any way, especially when it came to his relationship with Abby. She was so kind and sweet; she deserved the touches and soft looks, the warm embraces, and not just behind closed doors.
He stood up straight, tossing his plastic bottle into the recycling bucket close by, and started toward the dance floor, then stopped just as quickly as the reality of Abby’s situation overshadowed his desire to give Abby the dance she always asked for. The idea of throwing caution to the wind was tempting. As much as he hated dancing, he wanted her to wrap her arms around him and smile. But what about tomorrow? Hell, what about right now? The complications and risks were still the same whether they sashayed the night away at a barn dance in Nebraska or cohabitated in their Los Angeles condo. Dimitri and Victor were still waiting to end her, no matter where they were.
The song ended, and the band announced a ten-minute break as he made his way back to the hay bales. Canned country music filtered through speakers while thirsty dancers made their way to the refreshment tables.
Abby said something to Timmy and smiled, walking toward Jerrod, her cheeks rosy in the warm space. “I’m having so much fun.”
“Looks like.”
“You should join us.”
He shook his head. “I’m more of an observer.” He noted the flicker of disappointment, regretting that things couldn’t be different. “I like watching you. I haven’t seen you laugh for awhile.”
Her smile dimmed. “Things haven’t been very funny.”
He nodded, not wanting to see the light vanish from her eyes. “How about a drink?”
“I could use one.”
He scanned the choices among the tables. “Water, punch, iced tea, or it looks like coffee? I think there’s beer too.”
“Uh, water.”
“I’ll get it.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Okay.” He offered his arm, giving her what little he could.
She smiled, slipping her arm through his, linking them as they made their way to the beverage station. “Do you see that?”
He glanced around. “What?”
She cupped her mouth, whispering something while people talked and laughed around them.
“Huh?”
“I don’t want to speak too loudly.” She stopped and tugged on his shoulder, bringing his ear to her height. “Your mother and Caleb.”
He looked up, spotting Caleb handing his
mother a cup of red punch as they smiled.
Abby bit her lip, smiling at him. “I knew this was a good idea. They’re having a great time.” Her smile dimmed. “You’re frowning.” She rubbed her finger between his brows. “No frowning. This is good. She’s happy.”
He liked seeing that carefree smile on his mother’s face. “Yeah, of course.”
Concern furrowed Abby’s brows. “Are you weirded out?”
He pressed his finger between her eyebrows, rubbing at the worry line as she’d done to him. “Nope.”
They grinned at each other.
She moved her face closer to his, examining his nose, touching the tender bridge. “How’s it feeling?”
Their gazes locked. “Fine.”
She moved her fingers to his jaw, stroking his chin. “You shaved off your scruff.”
“Yeah.” He grabbed her wrist, stopping her torturous movements, glancing at her mouth.
She licked her lips. “I like the scruff.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He cleared his throat and stood up straight with a small smile. How the hell were they going to pretend everything was normal when the air snapped and hummed between them after a casual touch and basic conversation? “How about that water?”
“Yes, please.”
He didn’t offer his arm as they moved forward. They both needed to keep their hands to themselves for sanity’s sake. “Excuse me,” he said, skirting around Ms. Hazlerick, and reached into the bowl of ice. His hand landed on a bottled water just as Shelby grabbed the same one from the opposite side. Great. He and Abby were still fumbling a bit; the last thing he needed was Shelby messing things up.
“Sorry,” she said with a flirtatious smile, swiping curled red locks behind her ear. Her tight jeans and low-cut, button-down plaid left little to the imagination.
“No problem.” He moved his hand. “Go ahead and take it.” He snagged another bottle and handed it to Abby.
“Thanks,” Abby said with the slightest hint of tension. Her gaze left his as she searched the room. “I see Tim over by the table. I’m going to head over.”
