by Cameron Dane
Abby stepped back and turned away, hating the streaks of tears she swiped away from her cheeks. “By then nobody else in the church wanted me.”
“My fault.” Lorene’s voice cracked, and it seemed Abby had transferred the armor of guilt to her. “I’m afraid the many, many times I unburdened myself with my church family, I didn’t realize I was planting seeds in them about you. By the time we knew we were going to let you go, I’d scared anyone beyond the point of taking a risk on you. They knew of your silence and solitude from your many visits to the church, and at that point they’d heard enough of my stories of your nightmares and screaming fits that none of them felt they could offer you a home that would help you get better. Nobody would step up.”
“I understand.” Taking a moment to make certain her face and eyes were dry, Abby gave herself a mental pep talk and shoved the moment of weakness away. “I’m sure I would have been as terrifying in my foster homes, had I not been put on a drug regimen that allowed me to sleep.”
“May I ask how long was it before you began speaking again?”
“Don’t know for sure.” With her hands tucked in her pockets, Abby hunched her shoulders and shrugged. “Maybe another year or just under.”
“The woman from DCF told me it would be better if I didn’t have contact with you for a while. She said your seeing me would only make you wish and believe I was going to bring you home with me again.” Lorene glanced away, and her face burned with red. “In truth, I let her convince me. I loved you so much I probably would have convinced myself that things hadn’t been as bad as they were and taken you back, only to start the cycle all over again.”
“And then you forgot about me.” A slip of rancor gave edge to Abby’s tone.
“No. I never forgot.” Lorene looked back to Abby in a flash, shaking her head so hard her silver hair swished around her throat. “I did let my guilt keep me away, though. Seeing you would have reminded me over and over that I’d failed to do right by you. There wasn’t a will, but I knew you mother wanted me to take care of you if anything ever happened to her and Richard. I know in heaven that’s all she would have been praying for”—tears filled Lorene’s eyes again—“and I couldn’t do it.”
Abby willed herself not to succumb to the band constricting her chest. “The past is done. There’s no sense in crying about it anymore.”
A sigh escaped Lorene. “I fear your life has made you hard.”
“Practical,” Abby corrected. “A survivor.”
“Perhaps a visit to the church could help you find new peace with the things you’ve learned about your mother today.” Color still suffused Lorene’s cheeks. “Plus the other stuff.”
“Thank you, but I don’t believe in organized religion.”
“Oh.”
Extreme discomfort well beyond the public display of tears suddenly shrouded Abby. “Listen, I have to get going.” She made a beeline the twenty feet to the front door. “Thank you for speaking to me. I appreciate your openness about my mother.”
“Abby,” Lorene called from behind. “I don’t judge you by your lack of faith in the church. Circumstances have given you little reason to believe in its spiritual, guiding hand.”
Abby’s fingers gripped the doorknob with a ruthless hold. “My issues with church go well beyond my own circumstances. I don’t think that’s something we really want to get into right now.” Without looking back, she pulled open the door. “I have to go. Bye.” She stepped out onto the porch.
She felt Lorene rush to join her. “Will you come back?” Lorene asked. “Bill would love to see you. Stephen still lives with us, and the others come over for dinner every Sunday evening.”
The strain in Lorene’s voice tugged at Abby, and she gave in to one more look. “I’ll think about it.” So much new information spun in Abby’s brain that she could not give Lorene more than that right now.
Lorene dipped her head and even backed up to her open doorway. “May I at least tell Bill that you visited? And about your suspicions of Rusty Cormack’s innocence?”
A wiry, geeky blond-haired man with a penchant for practical jokes and a comforting, infectious laugh filled Abby’s mind. “You can. I’d ask that you keep our conversation between just the two of you, though. I don’t want anyone at the church getting wind of what we talked about.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you again. You didn’t have to answer the door.” Overcome, Abby reached out and curled her hand around Lorene’s. “You didn’t have to tell me everything you did.”
“Yes, I did,” Lorene replied, pulling Abby in and embracing her again. “You have a good night, dear. It truly is a blessing to see you again.”
Abby let herself be hugged for a moment. Felt strange. Odd.
Good.
That wisp of panic sliced through her again, and without another glance, Abby withdrew and did a speed walk to her car.
As she drove away, she thought about how this reunion should have been weird. It should have been uncomfortable. There should have been the itch of anger, resentment, and lingering hurt.
And that had occurred.
Abby sure as hell did experience elements of each of those emotions while talking with Lorene Jones.
What Abby hadn’t expected was the internal tug toward Lorene and what she represented.
Family. Unity. A sense of belonging.
And faith.
* * *
Where in the hell is she?
The setting sun reflected against the car pulling into the back parking lot of Abby’s Attic. Rodrigo pushed away from the side of his truck for a better look and swore under his breath as Braden pulled in alongside him.
Not Abby.
Rodrigo rounded Braden’s vehicle and didn’t even wait for the man to fully get out before pouncing. “Have you talked to her today?”
“Not since I left this morning.” Braden’s voice was muffled as he pulled a bag from the backseat. “I take it she’s not here?”
“That’s amazing work there, Detective.” Rodrigo felt strung tight, and his entire being dripped with impatience. “You solved that mystery just with the clue of me standing outside?”
After setting his bag on the hood of his car, Braden stacked his hands under his chin and fluttered his eyelids. “All by my little lonesome. Aren’t you impressed?”
Rodrigo started to smile, but Abby’s disappearance quickly took him over once again. “I’ll be more so if you knew where to find Abby. She’s not answering the door or her cell.”
“Let’s not panic,” Braden said as he unclipped his phone from his belt loop. “It’s not that late.”
As Rodrigo watched Braden scroll through his address book, he started to pace in front of the man. “She knew we were both coming back.” Rodrigo hated this anxious pattering inside him that he couldn’t control. “She said she would be here.”
After a few seconds, Braden took the phone away from his ear. “Still not answering her cell.”
“I could have told you she wouldn’t.” Coming to a stop in front of Braden, Rodrigo searched the man’s face and wondered how in the hell he could feel jittery and calmed by Braden’s presence at the same time. Something in his steady gaze forced Rodrigo to stop and focus his thoughts. “I don’t think anything has happened to her,” he admitted. “It’s just that after all these nightmares, and how much they’re bothering her, and the lack of sleep, I don’t like not knowing where she is.”
“Me either.” Braden grimaced, and it actually made Rodrigo feel a little bit better. At least he wasn’t paranoid by himself. “Did you give Chris and Jonah a call? May—”
Rodrigo lifted one finger and already had his cell phone dialed and at his ear. “Good idea.”
Just as the first ring sounded in Rodrigo’s ear, Braden put his hand on Rodrigo’s arm. “Wait.” He pointed to the red clunker pulling into the parking lot.
Barely hearing the “hello” in his ear, Rodrigo said, “Never mind, Chris,” withou
t even being sure it wasn’t Jonah answering their phone. “Talk to you later.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket, and together he and Braden stormed around Abby’s car, waiting right there as she climbed out.
She gave them a funny wide-eyed look. “Hi, guys. You—”
Braden cut her off with “where were you?” and Rodrigo thundered over him with “where have you been?”
Abby’s comical expression morphed into a narrow-eyed stare that somehow managed to encompass Rodrigo and Braden equally. When the wind chose that moment to whip her hair into an airy wave that looked like a fiery blaze behind her, Rodrigo felt the heavens were assisting her and that he’d just stepped into a sharpshooter’s path.
“I was going to say you’re early; it’s not even six o’clock.’” Abby shot each word out like the sharpest arrow. “But now I’m changing it to ‘I’m sorry, but at what point did the two of you become my keepers, and when did I start having to answer to either one of you?’”
“I…” Rodrigo looked to Braden, words leaving him as they never had before with this woman.
Braden said, “Well…” and stopped. He made eye contact with Rodrigo and then swung to Abby and shut up.
Abby crossed her arms under her breasts and dug her boots into the concrete. “Think first. Then talk.” She flashed them a smile that was anything but friendly. “Feel free to confer.” With a glance at her watch, she added, “I can wait.”
Rodrigo suddenly remembered how eagerly this woman had always stood up and gone toe-to-toe with him. Now, in addition to that pleasure, he’d truly pissed her off. And not about something they could walk away from at a draw.
Shit.
Chapter Seven
She is so fucking angry.
Rodrigo watched the blue fire sparking in Abby’s eyes, and he racked his brain, searching for one of his sharp barbs that would put the woman off for long enough to formulate a good excuse for his jumping on her back the second she parked her car.
He slid his gaze Braden’s way, and he noticed the guy had his attention squarely on Abby, observing her with his cop stare rather than an “oh shit, I pissed her off” look like the one Rodrigo felt mapping his own face.
What the hell is up with him?
After a long stretch of standoff time, Abby pursed her lips and rolled her eyes heavenward. “So you’ve both chosen to give me the silent treatment now?” The slam of her car door shook the entire vehicle. “Fine. Then you can both get right back in your cars and go home.” She shoved past them to her door. “I did not sign up for this.”
Shit. Rodrigo shot Braden the finger and raced after Abby on his own. Shit. Shit. Shit.
With a whip of his arm, Rodrigo snagged Abby, spun her around, and cornered her against the wall of her building. “I was worried about you.” He went for the one thing that would get him back in her home and bed tonight. The truth. “I’ve been worried about you for weeks, if you have to have the entire goddamn truth right now. But I was particularly worried today because of the night you had last night. I expected you to be home, and when you weren’t, I couldn’t help feeling like something might be wrong. Especially when you wouldn’t answer your cell phone. When you drove up and I saw that you were okay, I was flooded with relief, but it came out more like anger. There you have it.” Rodrigo growled, even though he saw a grin forming on Abby’s lips. “Is my answer fucking good enough for you?”
Her smile didn’t grow huge, but Abby did curl her hand around the side of Rodrigo’s neck, letting her fingers drift into the strands of hair at the back. “It’s the truth, Rodrigo, and that’s fine with me. I wasn’t looking for anything else.”
“Good.” Rodrigo still sounded terse; he couldn’t help it. “I would never lie to you.” He leaned down and scraped his mouth across hers, craving a claim on her. “Don’t fucking forget it.”
That smile of Abby’s held against Rodrigo’s lips. When Abby pulled back, she rubbed her thumb across his mouth, rushing a ridiculously fast reaction to his balls.
“I won’t,” she said. “I’m sorry about my cell. It hasn’t been working for a couple of days. I have to get a new battery for it.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and scrunched up the rest of her face. “Forgot to put that on my to-do list today. I had other stuff on my mind.”
Braden stepped up then; he planted one hand against the wall beside Abby’s head and put the other against the small of Rodrigo’s back. Rodrigo jerked his gaze to Braden as the contact raced up his spine in a shivery line, but Braden only had eyes for Abby. This time, Rodrigo noticed the man’s jaw twitched some too.
“I got some tough information about your parents’ case today, and that ended up making me on edge when I saw you.” Braden leaned in and brushed a kiss against Abby’s cheek, staying next to her ear for a moment. “I apologize.” He lowered his voice for that, but Rodrigo still heard it.
Abby bunched Braden’s jacket in her fingers and stood up on tiptoe, leaning into him. “What information?”
With one step backward, Braden jerked his head toward the door. “Why don’t we go inside and talk?”
* * *
Rodrigo managed to hold his tongue until Braden said to Abby, “And that’s what I have as of today,” and finished his replay of his conversation with his PI friend.
“You trust this Ben guy?” Rodrigo asked Braden. He fucking would not allow another layer to be added to Abby’s pain and nightmares on a mere hunch. “You value his opinion that much?”
Braden gave Rodrigo a sharp nod. “Absolutely. He only confirmed what I’d already suspected based on reading the case file and the trial transcripts.”
From the position of her comfy chair, Abby stirred, drawing both men’s attention. “When did you pull my parents’ case file?”
“When I knew you would be mine.” Braden didn’t even pause in his answer.
Abby smiled at Braden, and a burst of possessive heat had Rodrigo leaning forward to block Braden’s view of the woman. Rodrigo had wanted Abby from the first time he met her. It had to be longer than Braden, and the man ought not be able to get away with flirty answers like that.
He swung his upper body around and faced Braden head-on. “When the hell was this exactly, Crenshaw?”
“A good while back.” Braden offered the answer so easily it grated on Rodrigo’s last nerve. “I’ve only been able to get into the particulars of the case more recently, though. I contacted my friend about a month ago. He was working on something too and was only able to get back to me today.” Braden looked right into Rodrigo’s eyes, intense as hell. “Found out everything I could about you too, Santiago.” That deep voice of his seeped right into Rodrigo’s pores, attacking all his senses. “For the same reason I did Abby.”
“Shit.” Rodrigo couldn’t hold Braden’s stare without going hard. He tore his gaze away and got up, needing to move. Goddamn it. Wasn’t his constant wanting of one beautiful, intelligent woman enough? Why did Braden have to stir up old flickers of desire Rodrigo had never even given two thoughts to, let alone acted on? Normal people did not want—on every fucking level—one member of each sex in his bed. More than that. In his everyday life. “Shit.”
Braden wore a half grin that looked too damn much like a smirk to Rodrigo. “That word does sum things up for you a lot,” he said, his voice as cool as ice clinking in a drink.
Rodrigo narrowed a glare at the too-confident, sexy bastard sitting on the couch. “Fucker.”
The man’s smile danced right up into his eyes. “I am. Not a half-bad one either, or so I’ve been told.” Braden’s gaze went down and up Rodrigo’s body. When he came back to Rodrigo’s eyes, the color of his had picked up the shades of a turbulent green ocean, and his voice had gone a bit husky. “Which I can’t fucking wait to show you one day soon.”
Before Rodrigo could stop the twitch in his dick and summon some outrage, Braden shifted and put that laser focus back on Abby. “You’re not surprised or devastated by what I’ve told you, Abby.
Not even close.”
Abby’s chuckle faltered. Her pupils flared, and Rodrigo forgot to care about Braden’s provocative claims. He sat back down next to the man without even thinking and presented a unified front.
On rare occasions, Rodrigo could set pride aside and accept that another person might be more capable of reading and handling a situation than he could.
This was one of them.
Looking at the conflict mapping Abby’s pale face, Rodrigo suddenly couldn’t have been happier to have Braden at his side.
Braden waited. Patient. Cool. Controlled. In his job, this was the moment he outlasted suspects in an interview room and let them break on their own.
Only, Abby wasn’t a suspect. And Braden didn’t want to be a part of breaking her will or spirit for anything. Still, he knew she had a tendency to keep her problems to herself, and that just wasn’t going to work for him anymore.
Each tick of the grandfather clock in the corner ricocheted against the walls of the living room while Braden held his silence, waiting for Abby to find her way to him. In his peripheral vision, Braden saw Rodrigo shift forward, and Braden knew the man was headed right for Abby’s side. Without turning to look at him, Braden put his hand on Rodrigo’s arm and shook his head. Rodrigo’s forearm tensed under Braden’s fingers, but eventually the thick cords of muscle against Braden’s hand released, and Rodrigo pulled back without speaking. Barely able to resist reaching for Abby himself, Braden locked his legs in place, willing himself to wait her out.
Abby fought the silence for a term Braden actually found admirable, but she finally curled her legs up on the chair. She settled her chin against her jeans-clad knees and looked Braden’s way, her eyes dry but vulnerable in a manner that immediately tapped into Braden’s soft feelings for her.
