The thief pulled until her body was pressed close to his. “Then I’ll take what you give your rich daddy.” He nodded toward the tile floor behind the counter. “Right here.”
A sob escaped her throat. The smaller of the thieves perked up, his ears scanning the air. “Jack, I hear sirens. We have to go.”
Abbey watched the taller one snarl at Barker. Then, her sight was blurred by excruciating pain as the butt of a gun slammed against her temple. Clasping her head in her hands, she crumpled to the ground.
“I’m coming for you, bitch,” the thief’s voice spat. “I know where you live. Be ready for me tonight.”
She heard the diner door close. A moment later, she felt herself being propped against a large body.
“Abigail, are you all right?” Barker pleaded as he ran his calloused fingers over her temple. She forced herself to nod even though she felt far from all right.
As her eyes cleared, she could see police swarm the diner. Barker waved them over to her. Several officers surrounded Abbey to examine her. She watched Barker reach behind the counter and pull out her cell phone. He glanced at the group surrounding her before he disappeared into the kitchen.
Abbey startled as she felt fingers press around the wound on her head. She fought to focus on the scene around her. Her stomach lurched violently. She weakly pushed the paramedics around her away. Her voice was a low groan. “Bathroom. I need the bathroom.”
“Let us help you, Miss.” One of the paramedics hopped to his feet to help her.
“I’m good. It’s all right.” She stood carefully. Her legs wobbled as she made her way across the restaurant to the restroom. By the feather touch on her skin she knew she wasn’t journeying alone. She smiled at the paramedics before closing the door. Two steps later she crumbled onto the tile floor in front of the toilet.
She felt herself shake. Terror coursed through her nerves. All she could see was the gun pointed at her. She could still feel the robber’s finger caress her breast. Abbey hugged herself as she rocked back and forth. “I want to go home. I want to go home.”
“Where is she?” A thick, Irish brogue pierced the air.
Abbey’s heart slammed in her chest as her eyes popped wide open.
“Sir, this is a crime scene,” a voice protested.
“I don’t give shit. I want my wife. Where the bloody hell is my wife?”
Abbey slowly pushed herself to her feet, her belly still uneasy as she did so. She slowly drifted into the dining room of the restaurant. She lifted her eyes to find police tape lying on the floor, torn to shreds by a very angry Irishman. The furious chatter of the investigators indicated Sloan was persona non grata in their crime scene. It didn’t matter. Nothing could stop Sloan’s power and money.
Sloan stood in the middle of the room, a black force in his suit and leather boots. The expression etched on his face was nothing she had ever seen before. His calm, sinful demeanor was long gone. He stared at her, a wild look in his eyes. It almost looked like fear, panic. Maybe. Can Sloan panic? I wish the room would stop spinning.
Suddenly, she was crushed against a concrete wall of man. Burying her face into Sloan’s linen shirt, she breathed hard to steady herself. He held her close as he buried his face in her hair. He must have felt her shaking.
“Shhh…” Sloan coaxed, his lips pressed against her ear. “Everything is all right now. Nothing will ever harm you again. I promise you.”
“Sloan,” she muttered as she struggled to pull away.
“Abigail, don’t.”
“Sloan, please.” She wiggled the best she could to get free.
“Abbey, please…”
It was too late. She clenched onto his arm as her stomach erupted. She closed her eyes as she heaved. She half expected him to shove her away to preserve his expensive clothes. Instead, his strong hand snaked around her loose ponytail and held it back. Once her body settled she pried her eyes open to find the remnants of her breakfast all over his suit.
“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled.
“They’ll clean. Abigail, you need to be seen by a doctor,” he advised tenderly.
“I’m fine.”
“I told her she needed to go in the ambulance,” Barker interjected. “She won’t listen.”
“Because I’m fine,” Abbey insisted.
“Luv, I beg to differ. You can barely stand on your own two feet. And you’re shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.”
Tears filled her eyes. “You come face to face with a gun and see if you keep your cool.”
There was a pause. “I have.”
Her eyes shot up to his chiseled face in disbelief. Before she could ask more she was flanked by paramedics. They carefully took her from his arms and backed her toward the stretcher.
“No.” Abbey struggled then reached for Sloan.
His smile was gentle as he followed and his voice was soothing. “I’ll come with you. I’ll be right by your side. If you cared for me at all, stop fighting and let them care for you.”
Abbey stilled as she gaped at him. She barely noticed as the paramedics nudged her onto the gurney. With their encouragement she laid back. For the first time the dizziness disappeared. She felt her eyes grow heavy. The jarring of the wheels down the steps of the diner and into the waiting ambulance didn’t register to her. The only sensation that mattered was the powerful hands that held hers tight. As the sirens screamed overhead, she drifted off to sleep.
»»•««
It really was a dirty, filthy hole in the wall. Through no fault of Abbey’s. Her touches of beauty were evident. Torn pictures of painted flowers were taped to the wall, the gloss of the magazine pages reflecting the street lamp outside. Bright colored throw pillows were propped on her twin bed, giving the drab gray a pop of color. But no amount of beauty could save this place. Sloan sighed. How can she pick this place over my home?
“Are you sure they’re coming?” Robert asked.
“Yes.” Sloan wandered around the tiny apartment. His thoughts kept returning to the hospital. His heart overwhelmed with concern. The doctors wanted to keep Abbey for observation, fearing a concussion. Sloan despised seeing her hurt, but it made what he was about to do much easier.
He closed his eyes, breathing deep. He dove into another world, a past life he had given up years ago. He pictured the butcher shop—his father’s shop—nestled away on their street in Belfast. He saw his older brother, Ethan, laughing at him as they walked side by side coming home from school. He saw the brightly colored ball that lured him into the street. He heard his father’s voice, the one that normally welcomed them after school, shouting for them to go, to run away.
Sloan’s breath peaked violently. Gunfire all around him. The searing pain of bullets ripping through his flesh. The vacant look in Ethan’s eyes as he lay in a pool of his own blood. The struggle to take a breath through the blood filling his own lungs. Felt the hatred that welled up inside him and fed him for the next decade and beyond.
The hatred he felt toward the thieves who hurt and threatened his love was enough to turn him dangerous, but coupled with the hatred he had borne since he was a child, it made him deadly.
There was a knock. Sloan opened his eyes.
“Hey bitch! Open up! Got a present for ya!” a voice jeered though the door. Sloan ripped it open. Two thugs dressed in hooded sweatshirts stood in the doorway. The shorter of the two looked at him flustered. “Thought someone else lived here,” he muttered.
Sloan snarled. “Someone else does. My wife.”
Before the thief could utter another word, Sloan grabbed him and his accomplice by the collar and dragged them inside, slamming the door behind them.
»»•««
Abbey folded the hospital gown and set it at the foot of the bed. She studied the room around her. This was no ordinary hotel room. There was a seating area with leather sofas. Fine art hung on the walls. She wasn’t served normal hospital food. She knew what hospital food tasted like. She had eaten it when
she had her appendix removed when she was nineteen. This food had to be catered in. And when she was brought in, she noticed a brass dedication plate outside the room. She shook her head. Looks like the work of the uber-rich Sloan O’Riley again.
She couldn’t help but smile. When she was violently shaken awake in the emergency room, he was by her side holding her hand like he promised. He talked to the doctors when their words made no sense to her. He all but forced his way into the room for her CT scan. And he before he left her, he tucked her into her bed and kissed her good night on her forehead. It would have nice if he would have been able to kiss me good night when the nurses woke me up every two hours. That would have made the disruption somewhat pleasant.
She frowned as she heard footsteps enter the room behind her. I’ve already been discharged. Did the doctor forget something? She turned to greet them but instead of her doctor, a man with slicked back salt and pepper hair stood in the doorway. His was very sharply dressed with a bright gold watch that adorned his wrist. Diamond cuff links capped his sleeves. Am I a magnet for these guys? “May I help you?” she asked.
He offered his hand to her. “Xavier Meachum. I wanted to see how your stay was.”
Abbey looked at him, puzzled. “Meachum Hotels?”
“Yes. Have you stayed at one of our properties?”
“No. Your hotels are a little out of my budget. Thank you for concern. This was wonderful. I’m sorry. I don’t understand why my hospital stay is of any concern to you.”
“I was meeting with Sloan when I heard what happened. When I heard you were being admitted, I insisted that you stay in this room and have the best care. All expenses will be covered by Meachum Hotels.”
Abbey gaped at him dumbfounded. “That’s very gracious of you. Thank you.”
“It’s the least I could do. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Abbey let go a half-hearted laugh. “How about a one way ticket to Iowa for me and my stuff? That would be awesome.”
“Whatever you wish. I need back in your husband’s good graces.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
“I was in the final stages of sealing a deal with him to put a Meachum Hotel in each of the properties owned by Sloan Enterprises.”
“Sloan Enterprises? I only knew of the complex in San Francisco. I didn’t realize he planned to build more than that.”
“He does. At least he’s toying with the idea. It’s a billion dollar opportunity. And if I don’t get back on his good side soon, it’ll be shot to hell.”
“And this involves me how?”
“I believe you met my daughter, Amber.”
Abbey’s eyes grew wide. Then she laughed. “Long, blonde hair, big blue eyes, beautiful and lots of diamonds? Yes, I did.”
“When Sloan discovered her lie he called me immediately. After about five minutes solid of colorful curse words, he told me where I could shove our deal.”
Abbey looked at him confused. “Lie?”
Xavier shook his head. “Amber is very competitive. She doesn’t stop until she gets what she wants. There isn’t much she doesn’t have except the most elusive bachelor in New York City. When she discovered he is no longer a bachelor, that he is in fact married to you, she became rather…distraught and took it upon herself to remedy the situation.”
“By lying to me.”
“Yes.”
“Nice.”
“I’ve talked to Amber and told her just how inappropriate her actions were.”
“She’s how old? Her late twenties? I would think she would know that by now.”
“Yes. Well, she shouldn’t be bothering you any longer.”
“Thank you.” Abbey paused for a moment. “That ticket to Iowa?”
“Yes. I’ll have that for you by the end of the day.”
“Hang on a bit. I’ll let you know if I need it.”
“All right. Can I arrange you a ride?”
Abbey cocked a grin at him. “Something tells me my ride is already downstairs waiting for me.” She shook his hand again. “Thanks for the stay.”
“You’re welcome.” He reached into his pocket and handed her his business card. “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
With one last smile she hurried past him out of the room and down the corridor. She struggled to wrap her head around Xavier’s revelation. Sloan didn’t lie to me. Amber did. I should have trusted him.
Just as she anticipated, she was greeted by a black Hummer as she stepped out of the hospital’s front doors. Gordon leaned against the vehicle, watching traffic pass by.
“How did I know you’d be waiting for me when I was discharged?” Abbey teased.
“Guess I’m getting predictable.” Gordon winked. He tugged the back door open for her. Instead of climbing inside, she gave him a hug.
“Xavier Meachum just stopped by.”
Gordon frowned at her. “What did that bastard want?”
“To see if my stay was all right. And to tell me that his daughter is a lying bitch.”
“Lass, we all could have told you that.”
Abbey sighed. “I don’t know which end is up anymore. It seems all anyone in this city can do is lie.”
“Not everyone.”
“Name me someone.”
“I, Abigail O’Riley, have never spoke an untruth to you. Have I?”
“You’re the exception.”
He took one of her hands in his. “How about I get us lunch? I think we should talk.”
“About?”
“Sloan. It’s about time you understand what made him the man you know.”
“Sounds great to me.”
Gordon smiled as he helped her into the Hummer then crossed around to the driver’s side. It wasn’t long before they were in New York City traffic. Her stomach growled as he parked outside a greasy spoon. The smell that filled the vehicle was amazing. He offered his hand again to help her out and escorted her inside. A waitress showed them to a booth in the near empty diner.
Once they placed their order, Abbey folded her hands on the table. “So what did you want to tell me?”
“You understand Sloan didn’t come from money. He had a rather meager childhood.”
Abbey looked at Gordon puzzled. “Are you his dad?”
“Nay. But I raised him with my best friend, Liam, since he was ten. He was quite a handful as a boy.”
“What happened to his parents?”
Gordon looked up at the waitress with an appreciative smile as she set their plates before them. He continued.
“His mother is still living for now. His sister is also. His father and older brother were killed when the British opened fire near his father’s butcher shop during the war. Sloan was caught in the crossfire. He nearly died.”
Abbey’s face fell. “That’s horrible.”
“It was hard on him. It twisted his little heart. Changed him. Liam and I did all we could to get him out but…”
“Get him out of what?”
Gordon opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by his cell. He held up a hand to silence her. “Gordon…Yes, Bartholomew, it’s me… He’s not with me… What do you mean he’s not in the penthouse? He had an appointment at one with the architects in San Francisco… He cancelled it? What the bloody hell? I’ll go find him. I can track his phone. Did you call him? Of course he told you that… I’ll let you know. All right. I’ll keep in touch. Bye.”
He hung up the phone then motioned the waitress over to him. “I need get the check and leave. It seems Mr. O’Riley has disappeared. Some days I feel like I’m still dealing with the ten-year-old.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Are you finished?”
Abbey glanced down at the half of a hamburger and the couple of French fries still on her plate. The grumbling of her stomach had stopped. Now the churning was back. “I’m good. Let’s go.”
“All right.” Gordon handed his credit card to the
waitress them followed her to sign the slip. Once he returned he and Abbey rushed out the door to the Hummer. Before Gordon could open the door to the backseat for her, she popped open the passenger door and hopped inside. She could hear him chuckle as he strode to the driver’s side.
Gordon flipped the ignition then slipped out his cell. He propped his arms on the steering wheel as he hit the app on the screen. “First, let’s find out where we’re going.”
“You can track him?” Abbey questioned.
He stared at the screen as the map twisted “With GPS, yes. I can track you also.”
“Why would you want to track me? I’m a waitress.”
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “You’re Mrs. Sloan O’Riley. When we get a chance we’ll continue our talk. There he is. Central Park.” He swept the app away then hit a speed dial. He poked the speaker button just before he shifted the vehicle into gear and pulled into traffic.
The ring was interrupted. “What do you want?” Sloan barked.
“You’re not at your meeting,” Gordon stated. Abbey listened silently.
“It’s my company. I’m allowed to do that.”
“And you’re out of the penthouse alone.”
“I’m thirty-five. Ask if I give a shit.”
“With a bounty on your head you should.”
Abbey stared at Gordon alarmed.
“Like I said. I don’t give a shit.”
“Sloan, be reasonable.”
“She was everything I wanted. I didn’t realize it until she was right in front of me. Now…” There was a sigh. “I went to the hospital. She was discharged. I ran into that son of a bitch Meachum. He said she asked for him to send her back to Iowa.”
“I know she’s been discharged. I picked her up like you would wish me to.”
“Where did you take her?”
“Stay there. I’ll be there shortly to pick you up. Attempt to stay out of sight please.”
Before Sloan could get another word out, Gordon ended the call. At the red light he checked the GPS app again. “Lass, you’re going in to get him.”
Abbey couldn’t object. She just nodded. “Does your phone say what part of Central Park he’s in?”
Black Irish Page 16
