Rick

by Peggy Jaeger

  “It means you don’t need to worry about your weight. Ever. You’ve never struggled with an extra ounce of body fat in your life, Rick. I know that for fact. You have no idea what it’s like to count every calorie and watch every single thing that goes into your mouth because of the inevitability it’s going to wind up on your ass. I do. I wasn’t blessed with my grandmother’s metabolism like Kandy and most of my sisters. Ellie and I take after our dad’s side. We’re the only ones who do. One more thing to despise about him,” she added, pursing her lips. “I’ve had to deny myself food everyone else can eat with abandon since my teens. And it’s a struggle. A monumental one. I’m strong-willed, but sometimes willpower can only go so far, which is why I keep healthy foods around me so if I do snack, at least it’s on something I won’t obsess over about the calorie count.”

  She took a long pull from her water bottle.

  Rick’s gaze stayed on her while she drank. He didn’t seem embarrassed any more. In truth, she couldn’t tell what was behind that penetrating stare of his. She placed the bottle down on the counter next to her broken shoe.

  “Come here,” he said, holding out his hand.

  “Why?”

  He wiggled his fingers. “Just, come here.” When she didn’t move he added, “Please.”

  He took her hand when she got close and yanked her down onto his lap with her legs resting on the couch.

  “For the record,” he said, winding one hand around her waist, the other across her thighs, “I love your ass. I love every part of your body. And whether you weighed fifty pounds or three fifty, you’d still be the sexiest woman I’ve ever known, Abigail.”

  The words seeped into her soul. She wanted to believe them.

  “And I’m sorry I dissed you to Josh. You’re right, I don’t live here, and I have no right to complain about anything. So, I’m sorry.”

  Abby sat, quietly, staring up at him.

  “What?” he asked when she tilted her head to one side.

  “Contrition looks good on you.”

  He dug a finger into her waist.

  She recoiled and gasped. “Don’t.”

  He did it again, this time jiggling his fingers up and down her ribs.

  “Rick.” She squirmed and laughed. “Stop! I can’t…I’m ticklish…stop.”

  With one hand, he held her securely in place so she couldn’t jump away from him. With the other, he kept up his torture. “Take back that contrition crack, and I’ll stop.”

  When she didn’t, he tickled her even more.

  “Okay, okay. I take it back. You win. You win, now stop.”

  He did, and it took her a moment to catch her breath.

  “Now that I know your weak spot, I’m gonna take advantage of it whenever I have to,” he told her.

  “That’s fighting dirty.”

  “Hey, any way I can win is fair.” He dropped a kiss on her nose, then cupped her chin and did the same to her mouth.

  Only he lingered a whole lot longer on her lips than he had on her nose.

  Fingers trailing up her torso under her shirt, he slid under her bra and grazed her nipple until it hardened.

  “I love every curve on your body,” he said, skimming her jaw. “Every inch of skin, every hollow.” He sucked her earlobe into his mouth and gently bit down on it. Combined with the squeezing pressure of his fingers on her nipple, bullets of desire shot straight to her core. Restless, her knees drew up. Rick took advantage of the movement and cupped her between her legs.

  “You’re absolutely perfect just the way you are, Abigail,” he whispered.

  Abby tilted her head and found his lips again.

  She pulled away from the kiss when the downstairs buzzer rang through the apartment.

  “It’s the pizza,” she said, jumping up from the couch and running to buzz the delivery boy into the building.

  “I already paid for it,” he told her when she went to her purse for her wallet. “They’ve got my card on file.”

  “Frequent customer, are you?” she asked, unable to keep the smirk contained.

  “I order from them maybe once a week. It’s just easier for them to keep my info on file.”

  Abby took another pull from her water. “We really need to work on your nutrition,” she tossed over her shoulder.

  “You agreed to the pizza,” he said. “Too late to reconsider now.”

  The bell rang, and she opened the front door, expecting to see the pizza delivery guy. Her smile froze in place when Joseph Genocardi’s face glared back at her.

  “Don’t scream.” He pointed a gun straight at her head. “Move.”

  Without waiting for her to do so, he grabbed her arm, shoved the gun against her temple and propelled her into the apartment.

  “I’m not smelling pizza,” Rick said, grinning from the couch. The smile died, and his face turn to stone when Genocardi pushed her into the room. In a heartbeat, he flew up from his seat.

  “Stay there,” Genocardi growled. “Don’t make another move or the bitch dies.”

  “Abigail.”

  “Do what he says, Rick.” Good Lord, was that her voice? It sounded so calm, and she was anything but.

  Rick’s eyes swept from her own to where the gun was pressed against her head, then to Genocardi.

  “Yes, do what I say, Rick.” Genocardi’s voice dripped with scorn. “I won’t hesitate to shoot her.”

  “You know the police are searching for you,” Rick told him. The quiet stillness in his tone was lethal as his eyes flicked over to his duffle resting next to the couch, where his gun was stashed.

  “Stupid fucks. They couldn’t find their assess with a map.”

  His free hand snaked around her arm to pull her flat against his body. The barrel of the gun was pressed so firmly against her skin the cold metal was bound to leave an imprint.

  “You don’t want to do this,” Abby said. “Think of Michael. You don’t want your son to grow up knowing his father is a killer. You love your son.”

  “You made me lose my son,” he said against her ear. “I could kill you for that alone.”

  “Doing so won’t get Michael back,” Rick said.

  Abby swallowed, her eyes trained on him. He hadn’t moved an inch from where he stood.

  “I know. That’s why I’m taking her to the hospital with me. Lila’s bitch of a sister will be there with him now. You’re gonna help me get him back.”

  “The hospital is crawling with police,” Abby said. “You won’t get near her room.”

  Genocardi pressed the gun farther into her temple.

  Abby winced.

  “Don’t tell me what I already know, bitch. That’s why I’m taking you.” He laughed, and all Abby could think was how unhinged he sounded. “I’m gonna trade you for my boy.”

  “You’re not taking her anywhere.”

  “Who’s gonna stop me? You?” Genocardi laughed. “In case you can’t see too good, asshole, I’m the one with a gun.” He moved it from her head and pointed it at Rick. “You ain’t gonna do nothing to stop me from taking her outta here, ’cause I’ll shoot you dead if you move.”

  From behind them, a subtle, recognizable thud sounded from the bedroom. In the next instant, Moonlight hissed louder than she ever had before and, claws bared, swiped at Genocardi’s legs. Surprised, he loosened his grip on Abby and pulled the trigger on the gun.

  The explosion ricocheted around the apartment, deafeningly loud. The recoil knocked Genocardi backward, causing him to stumble over the cat. Abby had a split second to make a decision.

  Run or act?

  When he aimed the gun at Moonlight and cursed, her choice was made. She grabbed the shoe that still had a heel attached to it from the counter and hit him on the back of the head with it before he could fire on her cat.

  Stunned, he turned back to her, one arm raised against the attack, the other pointing the gun directly at her.

  Abby didn’t even think. She slammed the stiletto straight into his eye, p
ulled back when he screamed, and did it again before he could cover the orb with his hands.

  He dropped the gun and brought both hands up to his now blood-spurting socket while she continued to pummel him, hitting anywhere she could make contact.

  “You fucking bastard!” she screamed, her arm pistoning against his face. Blood spurted all over her. “Think you can shoot my cat, you fuckwad?”

  Over and over again, she hit him until her hand was caught midair.

  “Abby stop. Stop.”

  “Let me go! Let me go!”

  Rick wound his arms around her, cocooning her. “Sweetheart, stop. He’s down. It’s done. Stop. I need you to stop.”

  Breathing as if she’d run a marathon uphill, Abby stilled and stared up at his face. The shoe dropped to the floor.

  “He was gonna shoot Moonlight,” she said between breaths. “I—I couldn’t let him. I couldn’t.”

  “I know, sweetheart. I know. Shh. It’s over now. She’s okay, and I’ve got you. Breathe. Everything’s okay now.”

  She glanced down at Genocardi when he groaned. Moonlight hissed again as she circled around his body. Her ears were flat against her head, her teeth bared, whiskers sticking straight out from the side of her nose. She swiped her claws against his neck in one swift, killer strike. Genocardi screamed and tried to roll to his side, blood seeping from the cat’s attack.

  “I want her,” Abby said trying to squirm out of his hold. “Let me go to her.”

  Rick’s face suddenly went blank, and his body turned rigid. He slid his hand from her side. It came back red.

  She gasped, nausea immediately coating her gullet. “Oh, my God, he shot you.”

  His mouth fell open, the air rushing out from inside him, slamming against her skin.

  When his head began to shake, she looked down at her own T-shirt. It was soaked with blood. Instinct told her it wasn’t Genocardi’s.

  Or Rick’s.

  The all-too-familiar ringing began in her ears, and when she lifted her gaze back to him, his face was a blur, her peripheral vision going blind, the blackness telescoping inward.

  “Rick—”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “You want any more of this?” Josh asked, offering him a Styrofoam coffee cup.

  Rick shook his head. He rose from the waiting room chair, slung his hands in his pockets, and walked in a circle around the room.

  “Why is it taking so long?” he asked, his question addressed to no one and everyone in the room. “The ER doc said it was a clean through-and-through. Taking her to the OR was simply a precaution. Something has to be wrong. It’s too long.”

  Hannah Laine slipped an arm through his. “Rick, stop. You’re going to make yourself sick with worry.”

  “Hannah—”

  “No.” She squeezed his forearm. “Listen to me. She’s going to be fine. Abby is the strongest of my daughters. It’s going to take a lot more than a bullet to knock her down.” She turned to Ellie who slouched in one of the chairs, still dressed in her scrubs. “They’re probably being overly cautious and making sure the bullet nicked nothing vital, right?”

  “That’s my bet,” Ellie said after a full yawn. “While they’ve got her on the table, they might as well make sure every little nook and cranny is clean and clear.”

  To Rick, Hannah said, “You’d rather they took their time to make sure she’s not going to have any postoperative problems, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No buts.”

  He was prevented from giving more voice to his worry when the surgeon came into the waiting room.

  Rick bolted to the man.

  “She had a little more damage than we expected,” he told them. “The bullet nicked the top of her hip and took a piece of bone along with it when it went through her. I wanted to make sure no little fragments were floating around inside her that could cause a problem down the road.”

  “But she’s going to be all right?” Hannah asked.

  The surgeon’s tired smile flitted across his face. “Well, she’s going to be sore for a while, that’s for certain. She might have a little difficulty getting around unaided for a few weeks until her hip heals. But ultimately, she should be fine. The bullet didn’t tear anything vital, never got near an organ or an artery, so those are all good indications she’ll be back to normal with time and rest.”

  “Can I—we—see her?” Rick asked.

  “Not until she’s moved up to the surgical floor. She’s in recovery and still sedated. I’ll have one of the nurses let you know when she’s being transported. It should be in about a half hour or so.”

  Hannah thanked him. Turning to Rick, she smiled.

  He took a full breath for the first time since spotting Genocardi push into the apartment.

  Hannah slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him. “See, now? I told you she’d be fine.”

  Before she rested her head on his chest, he caught the subtle sheen of unshed tears in her eyes.

  “I’m gonna go call Kandy and tell her,” Josh said. “Have her start the notification calls.”

  “I’ll go see what room they’re bringing her to,” Ellie said.

  Hannah pushed back and swiped at her eyes. “Wait, I’ll go with you,” she told her youngest daughter.

  Left alone, Rick dropped back down in his chair, took a long, deep breath, and scrubbed his hands down his face.

  The past four hours had been the longest, scariest of his life. Stuck in a tree blind, cut off from his team, waiting to be discovered and probably shot to death wasn’t one scintilla as terrifying as seeing Abby faint dead away in his arms after being shot. The sight of her pale and lifeless form, her thin T-shirt soaked through with her sopping blood had drilled such a sense of panic through him he’d almost gotten himself arrested when the EMTs and responding police officers arrived after his 911 call. Barking orders left and right, screaming at the emergency team they weren’t moving fast enough, efficiently enough, had one of the officers ready to put him in handcuffs and haul him off so they could work on Abby. It was Tony Pecorrini’s arrival and his composed, competent command of the scene that had served to calm Rick.

  One of the building residents had discovered the actual pizza delivery boy tied up in the garage when she went to retrieve her car.

  Once in the emergency room, Rick had given a quick history to the nurse, relieved when Hannah showed up with Josh to give a more detailed accounting of Abby’s medical history. In the hallway, he’d spotted Genocardi arrive, his face a bloody pulp, his hands handcuffed to the gurney. He was surrounded by four uniformed officers and was screaming at the top of his lungs for pain relief. It took every ounce of reserve Rick could call up not to sprint over to the man’s cubicle and pummel his face even more.

  He wanted him to suffer. Hell, he wanted him dead for what he’d done to Abby.

  If he’d only been a second quicker or closer to her when Genocardi came through the door. But he’d been across the room and knew, if he moved, he’d be shot where he stood.

  In hindsight, it would have been the better option. He’d been shot before. He’d have preferred to be the one on an operating room table right now, rather than Abby, any day of the week.

  “You doing okay?” Josh asked, coming back into the room, his cell phone in one hand, another coffee cup in the other.

  Rick looked across the room at him. Josh was the one person he could tell the truth to. “No.”

  He nodded and came to sit next to him. “I didn’t think so. Here. I know you don’t want it, but do me a favor and drink it. You’ll be glad you did.”

  Rick accepted the cup. After his first sip, his gaze shot over the rim to his friend. “You keep a bottle stashed in your car now?”

  Josh grinned. “It was a gift from a client when Sophie Grace was born. I hadn’t brought it into the house yet, and I thought you could use something stronger than the caffeinated sludge they serve here.”

  The whiske
y shot straight through his system. Rick closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “I already did with Pecorrini. I’ll need to go give my statement officially sometime, but I’m not leaving until I know Abby is okay.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Rick squinted at him over his cup again. Josh sat back and stretched his legs out in front of him. And waited.

  “Christ.” Rick shook his head and dropped his gaze to his spread knees. “There’s not enough whiskey in the world.”

  Josh grinned.

  “You know,” Rick said, “You used to be the silent, logical, mind-your-own-business one.”

  “I still am.”

  “No. You’re not. Now you want to get all up in my life and discuss feelings and shit. Marriage has turned you into such a pussy. I hardly recognize you anymore.”

  Josh simply dropped his chin and continued to nail Rick with a very knowing, very piercing stare.

  Rick swore again and shot up from the chair.

  “You know, I’d think you’d rather have this conversation with me, get it all out, before Hannah drills you.”

  “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “None of us are blind, Rick. Or stupid. Hannah most of all. People tend to underestimate what a perceptive and intelligent woman she is. She asked, point blank after we left Abby’s apartment, if the two of you were involved.”

  Rick swore. “What did you tell her?”

  “At the time, the truth. I didn’t think so. Then I asked her why she asked. Want to know what she said?”

  “If I said no, would you go home to your wife and kids and leave me alone?”

  “Stop pouting like a two-year-old. It doesn’t work on me when Ben does it, and it sure as hell isn’t gonna work if you do.”

  Rick shook his head again and folded his arms together across his chest.

  “Hannah told me since she met you, she’s known you were the perfect guy for Abby, because, and this is a quote, you get her. I have no idea what she meant, but she’s convinced she’s right.”

  It was a wonder his face wasn’t bleeding from the amount of times he raked his fingers down it, as he did again at Josh’s words.

  “She’s not wrong, is she?” Josh asked.