Frey

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Frey Page 6

by Faith Gibson


  Frey leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He couldn’t tell the kid the truth about his sister. “I already told you, I like you. Besides, I can’t stand men like Troy Quinn who abuse women and those younger or weaker than they are. Bastards like that only do it because they are on a power trip. Sure, I could tote him an ass-whoopin’, but that wouldn’t do you or your sister any good. If we are going to get Quinn out of your lives, we have to do it the right way. That begins with you telling us everything you know about him.”

  “I’ll do it. I can handle the bruises, but I’m doing this for Abbi. She’s been through too much already.”

  Frey knew determination when he saw it. The kid had it in spades. “Good, let’s go find Jasper, and he’ll write down everything you tell him.

  Jasper had agreed to talk to the kid that afternoon. Even if they didn’t convince him to press charges, they could get more information on Quinn and begin monitoring him closely. The cop was a bigoted redneck. Frey was going to call Julian and have him check the hospital records for any visits Abbi might have made. If there was documented physical abuse, it would be easier to convince her to at least press charges. If she truly was Frey’s mate, they needed to get her away from her abusive husband, one way or another. For reasons Jasper didn’t understand, the fates chose Abbi as Frey’s mate. Whether her being married was a test of sorts, he didn’t know. Was he being tested as well?

  He had put on a smile around the others, but Jasper’s heart was hurting. The look on Trevor’s face before he ran out of the morgue haunted Jasper’s thoughts. Why couldn’t he have kept his hands to himself? Because the mate pull was too strong. Because Trevor was irresistible in his own right. He was smart, and funny, and so very sexy in a geeky sort of way. Just the way Jasper liked his men. Well, most of the time. Craig had been anything but geeky, but he worked really hard to impress Jasper away from the firehouse. He’d stayed after him until Jasper relented. Craig wouldn’t come out of the closet around others, saying as firemen their jobs would be on the line.

  Julian believed Craig had hacked into Jasper’s computer and messed with his employment records. Considering the firewalls Julian had in place, it seemed like a longshot his ex was responsible. The digital trail led back to Jasper’s computer, and Craig was the only one with access to it other than Jasper. He hadn’t realized Craig was smart enough to hack a system, and even if he was, why would he do that? What did he have to gain by changing the files? Now Craig was missing, throwing up more red flags.

  Jasper didn’t know what to do about Trevor. How much time should he give him before he apologized? Would Trevor even talk to him? If they never mated, Jasper still wanted Trevor as a friend, no matter how hard it would be to keep his hands off the man. He would worry about that later. Right now he needed to help Frey.

  He walked into the gym and immediately felt the pull. Trevor was there. It didn’t take him long to find his mate. Frey was laughing at something Trevor had said. He walked up behind Trevor and cleared his throat. Frey eyed him curiously, but Jasper’s attention was on Trevor, who tensed up. Was he aware it was Jasper behind him? Was he feeling the effects of the bond?

  When he turned around, Jasper whispered, “Hi, Trevor.” He didn’t know if Trevor would run again, but before he did, Jasper would at least apologize.

  “Hi,” Trevor responded just as shyly. “I was thinking about joining the gym.”

  Frey gave some excuse for leaving them alone and disappeared into the back of the building. Jasper hurried and said, “Trevor, I’m sorry. You know, about yesterday.”

  Trevor, who was giving Jasper’s body a good once over, said, “You have nothing to be sorry for. I get it.”

  “You do?” Jasper wasn’t sure he got it himself. And the way Trevor was looking at him, like he wanted to sample the goods, had Jasper more confused than before. Maybe Trevor was gay.

  “Yep. Just forget it. Do you want to show me around before the big guy gets back?”

  Jasper cocked his head to the side, studying Trevor. Maybe he was gay, but Jasper wasn’t his type. He was at a loss for how to proceed, so he did what Frey asked him to do. “I didn’t know you were interested in working out. Let’s start over here.”

  Jasper showed him machines as well as explained all the classes Frey offered. He ended his tour in the changing room. “So, are we okay?” Jasper asked him when they were alone. He shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t make the mistake of touching Trevor again.

  “I guess. I just…” Trevor didn’t get a chance to finish his statement. Frey and Matthew came in the room.

  Frey said, “There you are. So, Trevor, what do you think?”

  Without looking at Jasper, Trevor said, “I would like to take advantage of the trial offer, see how it works into my schedule and all that.”

  “Sounds good. Jasper, would you please take Matt here into the office. I’ll get Trevor signed up and then I’ll be right in.”

  Jasper was frustrated. He really wanted to continue his conversation with Trevor, but he was there for a reason other than his own personal feelings. “Of course. Trevor, maybe we could work out together?” He wanted his mate to know that he was still interested in being around him.

  “If you promise not to make fun of my non-badass form,” Trevor said, seriously.

  Jasper laughed, but his heart also broke a little. He was going to spend the rest of his life making sure Trevor knew just how special he was, mate bond or not.

  “I promise,” Jasper said with a smile, one he hoped Trevor took to heart.

  Chapter Eight

  Even though it wasn’t class night, Abbi wanted to go to the community center and work on the fall festival. In her weekly dance classes, she taught simple routines choreographed for young children. The Nutcracker involved more elaborate dances, but Abbi would be able to simplify them for her younger group. She could do it at home, but it would be easier in her dance room. Still, she didn’t want to take a chance on being caught by Troy. Not again.

  Abbi stopped at the grocery store on her way home and bought a couple of rotisserie chickens from the deli. That was something she didn’t have to cook, and Troy liked them. She could throw some vegetables on the stove while she worked on the festival, putting her ideas to paper. She wasn’t in charge of the decorations, but the committee had asked for her input since she knew the theme better than anyone.

  Normally, Troy was home at five on the dot unless he was working out or went out drinking with his partner. It was now half past six, and Abbi knew it was going to be one of those nights. One where he would either be full of testosterone from hitting the gym, or full of alcohol from hitting the bar. Neither scenarios bode well for her. When she heard his car door slam half an hour later, she braced herself for whichever Troy walked through the door. She didn’t have to wait long to know it was a whiskey night. Still in his uniform, Troy was livid.

  “Fucking cunt put me on second shift. It’s the queer detective’s fault; I just know it!” Troy yelled as he paced the kitchen. Abbi didn’t dare move, didn’t say a word. Troy went to the cabinet where he kept his alcohol and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. Abbi didn’t drink the stuff, so she didn’t know which man he chose. Jack, Jim, Johnny… they were all the same to her. “And that Neanderthal? What the fuck was he on about? I bet he was there to play back up to the fag.” Troy didn’t bother with a glass. He took a swig directly out of the bottle. Turning to Abbi, he pointed at her, bottle in hand. “Are you even fucking listening to me? I’m going on fucking second shift. Tomorrow. Bitch didn’t give me a good reason. Just said something about personnel changes and what’s best for the department.”

  Abbi sat silently at the table. She continued to sit with the pencil in her hand, scared to move even to lay it down. Troy paced the kitchen, stopping only to take a drink from his bottle before grabbing Abbi’s bicep with his free hand. He squeezed her arm to make his point, “This does not mean you get free rein, you hear me? I will
have people watching you. You are to come straight home. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Am I clear on that, Abigail?”

  “Yes, Troy. You’re clear.” Abbi said nothing else, because anything else might set him off. As of now he was a slow smoldering fuse with the fuse several feet long. If she said the wrong thing, that fuse could be cut short and blow with her in the line of fire. She wasn’t in the mood for shrapnel.

  “Yeah, we’re clear. I’m going to bed. Since I don’t have to go to work in the morning, you better be quiet when you get up and not wake me. You got it?” Troy asked with the almost empty bottle hanging by his side.

  “I got it,” Abbi said softly. He gave her arm another bruising squeeze before he retreated to their bedroom, slamming the door. Abbi let out her breath, thankful she had dodged that load of dynamite. She stood from the table to fix herself a plate of food. Now that Troy was home, she was allowed to eat. The backdoor opened, and Matt walked in, or rather bounced in. He didn’t say a word until Abbi gave him the all clear, pointing down the hall. She mimicked drinking, their code that Troy was drunk.

  Matt made his way to the stove to see what was for supper. “Are you hungry?” she asked him, knowing it was a dumb question. Her brother was always hungry.

  “Yep,” he said as he removed a plate from the cabinet. When he didn’t carry on about his day, Abbi grew suspicious. As hyper as he was, he was also as talkative when it was just the two of them.

  “Okay, spill. What’s up with you?” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the counter.

  “Geoffrey’s going to teach me meditation. I think it’s a crazy idea, but he says it will help channel some of my energy. His brother, some genius, is going to tutor me in math for the SAT’s.” Matt quieted, and looked down the hall. When he was assured the door to her bedroom was closed, he came back. “Abbi, one of Geoffrey’s cousins works on the police force.”

  Abbi grabbed his arm, moving him farther away from the hall into the laundry room. She didn’t shut the door in case Troy came back. “Matty, what did you do? Please tell me you didn’t talk to another cop about Troy!” she begged. If word got out Troy was abusing them, he would be ruined. There would be repercussions. Crap! Repercussions like being put on second shift. “Oh my god, you did, didn’t you?”

  “Abbi, he’s not just a cop. He’s a detective. He said he can help us. Help you get away from Troy,” Matt grabbed her wrists as he whispered. “Let them help you, please Abs. Please!”

  Abbi peeked out the laundry room door, listening for any sign of her husband. If he found out she was even considering leaving, his ire would be the likes of which they’d never seen. “Matt, what exactly did you tell the detective?”

  “The truth, Abs. All of it. From the time mom and dad were killed up until now,” her brother said, unapologetically.

  Abbi couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. Her precious brother never spoke of their parents, their past, but now he’d laid it all out to a stranger just to protect her. She pulled him into a back-breaking hug. What if they could help her? What if there was a way to finally be free from her prison? Abbi wouldn’t let herself get her hopes up. Not yet. Hope was the enemy.

  Wiping the tears from her face, she said, “Come on, let’s eat.” Abbi didn’t agree to anything. She couldn’t let her brother put any thoughts into her head that may or may not pan out. She heated up both their plates and placed them on the table. She pushed her paper and pencil aside.

  “What are you working on?” Matt asked, truly interested in what his sister was involved in. He really was a good kid.

  “The fall festival. The committee chose The Nutcracker as the theme, and they put me in charge.”

  “Abs! That’s… Are you going to dance? You should totally dance.” Matthew’s eyes lit up with excitement. When he was little, he would watch Abbi practice. Sometimes he would mimic her moves, spinning and twirling. Once, she even caught him in her toe shoes. That memory of a tiny little boy trying to walk in her ballet shoes, flopping like he had duck feet brought a laugh from her throat. Surprised, she glanced at her brother whose mouth was open. God, had it been that long since he’d heard her laugh?

  Just as quickly as the happy memory formed, a bolt of sadness pierced her heart. “You know I don’t dance anymore.”

  “Well, you should. You were the best dancer ever, and you should really think about doing it again. If we could…”

  “Hush. Just hush, Matty.” Abbi stood and dumped her uneaten food in the garbage. She quickly put the leftovers in plastic containers and shoved the pans in the dishwasher. “I’m going to turn in. Oh, I almost forgot. Troy is going to second shift starting tomorrow, so please be as quiet as possible in the morning.”

  Abbi didn’t miss the grin that quirked the side of his mouth. “I’ll be quiet. Love you, Abs.” Matt stood and kissed her on the cheek before heading to his own bedroom. He grinned. He flipping grinned. Matt knew about Troy going to second shift. Thinking back to Troy’s words, the detective and the Neanderthal, it was starting to make sense. Geoffrey Hartley. He knew about Troy, and he had called in his cousin. Abbi didn’t know what to make of that. Could there really be a way? Could Frey and his detective cousin help her? And what about his brother tutoring Matty? Why was this man getting so involved in their lives?

  Abbi got ready for bed in the hall bathroom. When she entered her bedroom, Troy was snoring loudly, something he did when he was drunk. Still, as quietly as possible, Abbi eased onto her side of the bed. Once she was under the covers, she didn’t dare move. Abbi lay still, staring at the ceiling, allowing her mind to drift to the gym owner. Was he responsible for Troy going to second shift? Closing her eyes, a scene played out somewhere in the recesses of her mind. Abbi was dressed in her ballet tights- stretching, jumping, and pirouetting. She ran across the wooden floor, leaping, landing in the arms of Geoffrey Hartley.

  When Abbi woke the next morning, Troy’s side of the bed was empty. Abbi listened for any sign of her husband in another part of the house. When she heard nothing, she got out of bed and headed for the shower. Normally she would grab a cup of coffee and take it into the bathroom with her. She didn’t want to chance running into Troy, so she skipped that part of her routine.

  With the shower running, Abbi didn’t hear the bathroom door open. Her hair was full of shampoo suds, her hands massaging her scalp, her eyes closed. Cold air skimmed across her back, and she knew. She knew Troy was going to take her right there in the shower. She leaned her head under the spray of water to rinse the shampoo out, but Troy had other ideas. Not giving her a chance to rinse the foam from her face, Troy spun her so her front was against the cool tiles of the shower.

  “Troy, please let me rinse my eyes. I can’t see,” she begged.

  “Shut up. You don’t need to see. Spread your fucking legs.” He kicked her ankle with his foot. She nearly lost her balance when her foot slid too far on the slippery surface. Troy grabbed her hips and jerked her butt back towards him. With no warning, he forcefully pushed his way inside. Abbi was thankful for the lather falling down her back. It substituted as the only lube she would get. Troy shoved his forearm against her shoulder blades, keeping her locked in place as he pistoned in and out of her body. Abbi kept her eyes and mouth shut so the shampoo wouldn’t get into either. Her tears seeped out the corners of her eyes, but Troy wouldn’t see those. He was too focused on the task at hand to ever look at her face. With a final grunt, he spilled his seed into her body. Mission accomplished. He pulled out and slid under the water, rinsing himself.

  Troy stepped out of the tub, and only then did she move. Abbi placed her body under the water, reaching back to turn the heat up as hot as she could stand it. She allowed the tears to flow freely, mixing with the shampoo. When the water turned cold, Abbi got out of the shower. There was nowhere she could go to escape the monster she was married to. She wrapped a towel around her body, not bothering to look in the mirror. She knew she’d
see the bruises, and they were just another reminder of what her life had become. You should totally dance. Matty’s words came back to her, shredding her heart a little more. You know I don’t dance anymore. Teaching ballet to kids was a balm to her soul, but it couldn’t make up for the day her dream was shattered. No, Abigail Swanson was gone, and Abbi Quinn stood in her place. She didn’t dance anymore.

  Chapter Nine

  Frey tossed and turned all night with Matthew’s words floating through his brain. When he finally gave up on sleep, he walked out the back door and down the path leading to the water. As he made his way through the trees, Frey allowed the silence and stillness of the early morning to ease his thoughts. When he reached the end of the pathway, he continued down the dock that jutted out over his five acre lake. Frey sat on the end of the wooden platform, his long legs dangling in the water. He leaned back on his hands and closed his eyes. Meditating would be the best thing for him, but right now, he wanted to think about Abbi Quinn.

  Ever since meeting her, he had been consumed with all things Abbi. It was Julian’s day to train with the sword. When they were finished, he was going to share with Frey what he called “highly sensitive” information he’d unearthed. Frey didn’t like the sound of that. He hadn’t liked the sound of anything Matthew told him the night before, either. Matthew shared bits and pieces of Abbi’s life as he remembered it from a kid brother’s perspective. Frey had to work hard not to become frustrated with the teen when he would skip years of her life. Frey knew digging information out of Matthew was betraying Abbi’s trust, but he needed to know what he was up against.

  The fates weren’t making it easy on the Gargoyles when it came to their mates. Frey learned many centuries ago nothing in life worth having comes easy. He had to be careful with Abbi. Protecting her and watching over her from a distance was one thing. Interfering in her life and convincing her to get a divorce from her abusive husband was another. Even if they weren’t mates, Frey would not want to see the beautiful woman abused. He might not be so involved in the outcome, but that was neither here nor there.

 

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