“Tucker,” she wailed in his ear. “They’ve found her.”
For a moment, Tucker felt as if he was sitting in a cold, sterile room at the end of a very long hallway. There were echoes, not sounds really, just hard noises banging in his head. All the colors of the world bled into one, a dull, grey palette, that was sickly and awful.
“Tucker! Did you hear what I just said?”
He glanced up then and caught the eye of a businessman, briefcase in hand. The man looked at Tucker as if trying to put together a puzzle. And then like a light bulb went off, the man’s expression changed. There was a clarity there. Interest. Knowing.
Tucker looked away and ran his hand behind his neck, searching in the bar for his brother.
“What are you saying, Kate?”
“Oh my God, Tucker. Turn on the television. It’s all over the news.”
Like one of those crazy zombies from the show that Abby loved so much, Tucker shuffled back into the bar, yanking on his tie—the damn thing was too fucking tight—his eyes on the flat screen above Teague’s head. He saw the headline, though the scrolling words, the details along the bottom were too far away for him to read.
“Missing wife of Tucker Simon, sports agent and one America’s celebrated Simons’, found alive and well in a hospital in Cuba.”
Son-of-a-bitch.
Teague was walking toward him, his expression calm, though his eyes were dark and intense. When he spoke, it sounded as if Teague was down that goddamn hall in that shitty, sterile room, and his words tinny and sharp.
“Are you okay? Tucker?”
Tucker’s eyes went back to the television. His wedding photo was now plastered across the screen. Face white, he stared up at it. Marley looked so young and seeing her up there hit him like a punch to the gut.
“I have to go,” he mumbled. Jesus Christ, Marley was alive? How was that possible?
“Let me grab my jacket. I’m with you, brother. Hold on.”
Aware that more than a few people were staring, Tucker walked to the window, his eyes on the snow. The clean, unspoiled white snow. It mesmerized him and he didn’t look away until he felt Teague’s hand on his shoulder.
“Where do you need to go?”
“I…” Tucker scrubbed at his eyes. “Abby…”
“Okay, we’ll figure this out. I’m here, all right? I’ll cancel Egypt and….” Teague’s voice trailed off and Tucker turned around.
The first thing he saw were fire-engine red boots and a matching coat that touched the top of her knees. Long dark hair spilled across her shoulders and her face….
Christ, her face was so white that she looked like a ghost and her chest heaved as if she couldn’t breathe. Abby took one look at him and her knees buckled.
“Hey,” Tucker said roughly as he moved forward and caught her up in a fierce hug. He held her trembling body against his, angry that he’d somehow caused her pain. Crazy with fear that everything he had—everything that he loved—was going to slip away from him.
Again.
“It’s true then?” Abby said, her words stilted as she shivered in his arms.
“I don’t know,” Tucker answered haltingly. “Jesus, Abigail, I don’t fucking know.”
Abby rocked into him. Did someone take their photo? Was that Teague telling someone off?
Tucker didn’t know. He was trying his best not to freak the fuck out. All he could do was hold this woman because right here, right now, she was real. She was real and she had him. She had every bit of him, and he needed to let her know that. He wanted to let her know that.
So why couldn’t he? What the fuck was wrong with him?
She made a noise and his heart turned over.
He could barely breathe and glanced at his brother helplessly. Fuck, he hadn’t felt this helpless since...since Marley.
As if the very thought of Marley was enough to do it, an image of her smiling up at him, face flushed, eyes sparkling, hit him like hammer against stone. It was so real that for a moment he could smell the ocean. Feel the sun. He could feel Marley.
Startled, he shook his head. Disorientated.
“Tucker?” Abby croaked, sounding so small.
“I don’t know if it’s true,” he repeated, not knowing what else to say.
A heartbeat passed.
“Well, then,” Abby replied, raising her face to him, her hands clutched to his suit jacket. “I guess you better find out.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Sometime later, when Lisa stroked her hair as the two of them cuddled on the sofa and asked her if she was all right, Abby replied, yes. When her brother Mick dropped by with a pot of soup made fresh by Dani, their cook at The Black Dog, and he asked her how she was doing, she’d told him that she was fine.
Heck, when her mother called and told her that she and her father would be on the first flight back from Arizona, Abby had told her no. She’d told her mother that she was good and would feel awful if they cut their stay short.
Her mother had protested, but Abby insisted they not come and told her that she’d call when she had news. Her mother asked one more time if she was fine and once more Abby said that, yes, she was good.
But the truth of it was, Abby Mathews was nowhere near good.
The truth of it was, Abby Mathews was so close to losing her shit, big time, that the fear of losing her shit is what kept her teetering on that edge. She was so close and yet she refused to give in.
It had only been a few hours since the Marley Simon story had hit the news. Hours since her world had imploded. Since Tucker had brought her back to their place…the home she now shared with him.
Hours since Tucker had kissed her. He’d held her close and whispered that things were going to be okay.
But there were so many questions. Questions that she wanted to ask. Questions that she was afraid to.
And so she said nothing. She’d sat on the edge of their bed and watched as he changed into a pair of jeans and an old Duke University hoodie. Said nothing as he rummaged for his passport, though she kissed him softly when she found it in the top drawer of the dresser in his closet. It had been clipped together with hers, along with two tickets to Costa Rica.
Costa Rica. And yet she said nothing.
She kept the tears away when he slipped into the worn leather jacket that she loved so much and shoved his feet into the Doc’s he’d worn that first time he’d shown up at her apartment.
Abby tried to appear calm when he called his in-laws, though inside she was breaking. She made tea while they discussed getting a special license that would enable them to fly into Havana, though Tucker’s twin was all over that.
Abby tried not to be resentful of the fact that Tucker’s twin was all over that.
But she was. She was resentful and hurt and scared as hell.
In the nearly twenty-four hours since Tucker had left with his brother, she’d only had one brief conversation with him. A quick call to tell her that they’d secured the license they needed and would fly to Montreal and then to Cuba.
She’d sat alone in the middle of their bed, holding the phone so tightly that her knuckles were white.
“You sound tired,” she’d said.
“I am.”
Silence.
“Your brother is with you?”
“Yeah. Teague’s here and so is Jack, thank God.”
More silence. It was the silence that spoke volumes. The silence that was filled with heavy things. It was the silence that she hated and the silence that scared her the most.
“Okay,” she’d managed to say. “Call me when you…when…”
“I will. I’ll call you when I know.”
Her throat had closed up and even if by some miracle, she could speak, at that moment she had nothing. She had nothing but a boatload of words that she couldn’t articulate and a truckload of fear pressing into her chest.
“Abby, things will be okay. I hate that you have to go through this, but I promise you…I…
I…shit. I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
What? Say it! Please, oh God please say it…
“It’s okay.” But it wasn’t okay. God, it was so not okay.
“I have to go, Abby. Our charter is ready.”
Click.
“I love you,” she’d whispered.
***
>A knock at the door brought Abby out of the funk that had settled over her the night before. She’d barely slept. Had crawled into bed, snuggled into Tucker’s pillow, chest tight as she inhaled his scent.
After a while, she’d given up and tried the sofa but again sleep had pretty much alluded her. All she could think about was Marley. And Tucker. Marley and Tucker. Where the hell did Abby figure into all of that?
She thought about it until her nerves were so shot, until her body trembled so badly, that she ran to the bathroom and was sick. Never had she felt so alone. So pathetic and helpless and just…alone.
Maybe I should have let Lisa stay.
Again the knock sounded and sliding off the sofa, Abby tugged her bathrobe together and swung open the door, thinking it most likely was Lisa or one of her brothers.
It wasn’t Lisa. Or any one of her brothers.
“Jesus, you look like you need a drink.” Cooper Simon held aloft an amber bottle and winked, his blue eyes electric as he gazed down at her. “Good thing I was in the neighborhood.”
Abby shook her head and winced. Every part of her ached. “You’re crazy. It’s not even noon yet.”
“But it’s sure as hell four o’clock somewhere.”
“That’s lame,” she shot back.
“True, but it’s all I got.” Cooper’s eyes softened. “And darlin’ you need something stronger than coffee right about now. So are you going to let me in or what?”
Abby hadn’t seen Cooper since Christmas Eve in Florida, and as much as he pushed a lot of her buttons, there was something sweet and lost about him. This man had been hurt. This man knew what was going on inside her.
“Are you going to promise to just be normal? No jokes. No innuendos. And if you try and grab my ass—“
Cooper pushed his way past her, dropping a quick kiss onto her cheek. “Jesus. You’re taking all the fun out of this.”
Abby closed the door behind her. “I mean it, Cooper. I’m not up to it.”
Cooper tossed his coat over the sofa and set down what looked to be a very expensive bottle of scotch on the table in the kitchen.
“Glen Livet?” she asked moving toward him.
“Is there anything else?” He arched an eyebrow. “Neat or over ice?”
“Ice please.” Abby settled on one of the stools and when Cooper was done pouring their drinks, raised her glass and had her first bit of nourishment for the day. She let the liquid burn down her throat, liking that it melted away the numbness.
After taking a second drink, she set the tumbler back down and glanced up at Cooper.
His eyes were intense, his mouth set tight.
“How are you doing, kid?”
Abby wasn’t sure what it was. The tone of his voice. The look in his eyes. The fact that she was functioning on less than three hours sleep or the fact that her heart was so bruised it hurt. Who knew?
All she did know was that the ball of fear inside her suddenly expanded. It retracted and then split wide open.
And then came the tears. Oh God, the tears. It was an ugly cry.
Cooper had her in his arms, face pressed to his chest before the first teardrop slid off her face. He held her for what seemed like hours and when she was done, her face was swollen, and her voice was hoarse.
She’d told Cooper pretty much everything. Her feelings. Her love for Tucker. And her fear of losing him. She even told Cooper that one thing she hadn’t shared with anybody…not even her best friend, Lisa.
Cooper now knew that those three little words had never been uttered. And he knew how scared she was.
Eventually, she pulled herself together and moved out of his embrace. She should have been embarrassed. Abby didn’t do the big, epic breakdown. It just wasn’t her.
But she wasn’t. Abby was just…empty.
“Why don’t you take a shower,” Cooper said. “I’m going to whip us up something that goes with Scotch and we’ll get drunk. Sound good?”
Abby slid off the stool and took a step toward her bedroom. “Why are you here, Cooper?”
“I had nowhere else to be.”
A ghost of a smile lit up Abby’s face. “Bullshit.”
The guy ran a successful software company that produced some of the most innovative games out there. He’d taken over his father’s dying company, a move many thought would pound in the last nail of the coffin so to speak. But from what Tucker had told Abby, Cooper had surprised them all.
Sure the guy still lived in the fast lane when it came to his personal life, but when it came to business? He had the steel backbone that the Simon family was known for. He’d doubled and then tripled his business within five years, bringing to the masses innovative video games focused on the military and science fiction. He married Hollywood and the gamer community.
So yeah, Abby knew he was busy as hell, especially with Comic-Con coming up in a few months.
“You can’t call bullshit.”
“Sure I can.” She headed for her bedroom. “But Cooper?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Havana seemed like an oven compared to the frigid New York he’d left behind, and yet Tucker was cold as hell.
He was cold, tired, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Abby. About the fear he’d seen in her eyes and the anxiety in her voice. About all the unfinished things between them. The things he needed to face.
The things he needed to say.
And Marley. God, his head was so fucked up right now. How did he even process the idea that she might be alive? That after all this time, she’d been here in Cuba? How the hell did that happen? Where was the rest of her crew? Alex her research partner. Gabe the pilot.
“We’re almost there.”
He nodded to his brother Teague and clenched his hands, rolling his shoulders a bit because they were tight as hell. Seated in the back of a van, Jack was on the other side of him and in the seats ahead were Marley’s parents.
“It has to be her,” Kate Danvers whispered fiercely, turning around, eyes watery and so full of hope.
Tucker didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded and glanced away. He wanted it to be Marley—Christ there was a time when that thought consumed him. And yet there was a part of him that was scared shitless at the thought.
He gave himself a mental shake. He wasn’t going there. Not now. Not until he knew for sure. And yet the guilt inside him pressed hard, making it tough to focus and breathe, but it was so goddamn hard because he was afraid of losing everything.
He loved Marley’s parents. Of that there was no question. But the Abby factor was pretty much front and center. It was the elephant in the room, and Kate had already tried to bring it up.
While they were waiting in Montreal for their flight, she’d quietly asked him what his feelings were for Abby. He’d politely told her that he didn’t want to discuss Abigail with her, and that he hoped she would understand.
“You’ll have to make a choice,” she said, voice small and shaky.
Tucker had shut down that conversation before it began. In his mind, there was no point until they knew the truth.
The van came to an abrupt halt, and he exhaled. Tucker glanced outside, eyes shielded from the sun by a pair of aviators. He saw some photographers milling about, but it was nothing like it would have been, had this been in the United States. The paparazzi would have been insane.
For one brief moment, he thought of Abby. Of the paparazzi who were no doubt circling The Essex House like a bunch of vultures. But he’d heard from Coop, and he knew his cousin was with her.
Cooper wo
uld look after her until he got back.
“You ready to do this?” Jack asked quietly, yanking on his ball cap, pulling it low over his eyes.
Tucker cleared his throat. “Let’s go.”
They stepped out of the van and a middle aged man approached them. Wearing business casual clothes, his bald head shone under the sun and he smiled hesitantly, offering his hand to Tucker.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Simon. I’m Romero Sanchez, the administrator of this hospital. We’ve been expecting you.”
The man’s English was perfect and his eyes kind. He nodded to Tucker’s brothers and then shook Jason Danvers’ hand before taking a step back and motioning toward the entrance. “Please follow me.”
Like everything else in Havana, the hospital was a little rough around the edges, worn but in a comfortable sort of way, with a hint of an era long gone. The palm trees and colorful paintings brightened up the place, and overhead large fans slowly turned, stirring the air.
Their somber group trailed behind Mr. Sanchez, and a few minutes later, they found themselves gathered in what looked like a conference room. As soon as the door closed behind them, Marley’s mother nearly rushed the man. “When can I see my daughter? Please. You have to let us see her.”
The woman was running low on fuel, and Tucker knew she was going to lose it if things weren’t sorted out soon.
Mr. Sanchez patted her hand. “I understand. But there are some things we need to do before that can happen. Procedures as it were.” He glanced over to Tucker. “We haven’t made a positive ID yet.”
Kate tugged on his arm and her desperation was palpable. “But I don’t…we were told she was here. I need to see her.”
“Please,” Mr. Sanchez said kindly. “Let us get everything in a row…How do you Americans say? Our ducks so to spea,k and then you can see her. I promise you Mrs. Danvers, we are wanting to make sure that everything is in order. Now if the husband can follow me, we’ll take care of a few of those things, and then we can proceed.”
Tucker waited, his face set in stone, his expression blank. But inside. Christ inside, his body was raging. He was all kinds of fear and frustration, and he just wanted to get this done and over with. He thought of Abby, but almost immediately pushed it away. He couldn’t go there right now.
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