Risky Vengeance

by Rhonda Brewer

  He’d learned to live without her over the last six-plus years but after spending time with her again, he missed her more than ever. She didn’t remember all the times he’d blown her off after their night together. If she did, she’d know what an asshole he’d been to her. He ignored most of her calls, but when he did answer them, he was short with her. When she gave up, Trunk was relieved, but it hurt more than any beating his stepfather ever gave him.

  Trunk thought once he and Abbie could finally be together, he’d spend his life with her, but destiny had different plans for them. By some sick twist of fate, his past linked to hers in a way that made it impossible for him to find happiness with Abbie.

  Trunk sipped the cup of coffee that had grown cold, much like how his heart felt. As he stared into the trees at the back of his house, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He fumbled in his jean’s pocket and pulled it out, and his heart jumped in his chest. Abbie’s number flashed on his screen and although he wanted to answer, he knew he couldn’t.

  Trunk sent the call to voicemail and placed the phone back in his pocket. Seconds later, it buzzed. He pulled it out again and saw a text from Abbie in all capital letters.

  Abbie: PICK UP THE PHONE, BUTTHOLE.

  Trunk threw his head back and laughed. That was the Abbie he knew and loved. She knew he always had his phone within reach. He wanted to send a return text, but he didn’t. When she called again, he hit ignore.

  Another buzz.

  Abbie: Ben, I swear I will get in the car and come to Hopedale if you don’t answer the fucking phone.

  Trunk sat up straight. If she decided to do it, nobody would stop her. Not even Hulk. Trunk’s finger hovered over her number but before he could tap it, she called again.

  “Hello,” Trunk answered.

  “Hello? That’s all you can say?” Abbie shrieked.

  “It’s the way I answer the phone, Abs,” Trunk retorted.

  “I need to talk to you.” Abbie seemed to ignore his sarcasm.

  “Talk,” Trunk replied.

  “Face to face.” She wasn’t giving him a choice by the tone of her voice.

  “I think over the phone is fine.” Trunk knew being close to her would be a mistake.

  “I will get in the car, Ben. I swear to Jesus,” Abbie warned.

  “Why? We’ve got nothing to talk about.” Trunk should’ve known that wouldn’t fly.

  “The hell we don’t. Now you’ve got two choices. Either you come here, or I’ll go there.” Abbie was a master with ultimatums.

  “You can’t drive. You don’t have a car,” Trunk reminded her.

  “I’ll call a fucking cab,” Abbie shouted.

  “Jesus, calm the fuck down.” Trunk pulled the phone from his ear. “Fine, I’ll be there in the morning.”

  “Nope, tonight,” Abbie pushed.

  “Can’t I’m drunk,” Trunk lied.

  “I call bullshit on that So, I guess I’m calling a cab.” Abbie ended the call.

  “Fucking woman.” Trunk tapped her number.

  “Was that so hard?” Abbie answered before it rang a second time.

  “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” Trunk sighed.

  “If you’re longer than that, I’ll be calling a taxi.” Abbie ended the call again.

  Since it was Friday, traffic would be a bitch. Everyone in the city seemed to be preparing for the weekend. The drive from Hopedale to St. John’s was ten to fifteen minutes, but it could take longer if he got stuck in gridlock. Trunk knew one thing, if he didn’t get to Abbie’s house in thirty minutes, she’d call a cab.

  Thankfully, Chris was in his room when Trunk rushed out of the house. He didn’t have time to answer any questions, but he did send his brother a quick text to say he had an errand to run.

  Twenty-nine minutes later, he pulled into Abbie’s driveway and was greeted at the door by a pissed-off Darren. From the expression on the man’s face, Trunk wondered if Darren knew his secret.

  “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you quit,” Darren snapped.

  “I called him.” Abbie stood in the middle of the stairs with her phone in her hand. “I was just about to make that call.”

  “Why did you call him?” Darren asked.

  “I need to talk to him about something,” Abbie told her father. “Can you come up here, Ben?”

  Before Trunk could answer, Darren slammed the door in Trunk’s face so hard that it was surprising the window didn’t shatter. Luckily, he stepped back before it hit him in the face.

  He could hear Abbie shout at her father through the closed door. Darren should know he would never win an argument with his daughter. It was why it struck Trunk funny when he heard Darren comment about Abbie’s stubborn streak.

  Trunk leaned against the doorjamb as he waited for Darren to concede to Abbie because, that’s how the conversation was going to end. After a few minutes of whispering, Claire opened the door and motioned for Trunk to enter.

  “I’m sorry, Ben. Darren is upset because of something we were just told.” Claire gave him a soft smile. “Abbie is upstairs.”

  “Is everything okay?” Trunk asked as he glanced into the kitchen.

  Billie, Sandy, Darren, and the guy who worked for Abbie sat around the kitchen table going through papers. All of them looked worried, and Trunk wondered if it had something to do with what happened to Abbie.

  “It’s some stuff going on at Abbie’s office, and they don’t want to concern Abbie while she’s still recovering. Especially since she won’t remember anything about it,” Claire whispered.

  “Let me know if there is anything I can help with,” Trunk told Claire.

  “Right now, you need to go up and see why Abbie just told her father to back off.” Claire sighed.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Trunk smiled and made his way to Abbie’s room.

  Trunk paused at the opened bedroom door. Abbie stood beside her bedroom window with her back to him. Her long brown hair hung down to the middle of her back in soft waves and he ached to run his fingers through it. He remembered how silky it felt, and the scent of lilacs still reminded him of her.

  “Are you going to stand out there all evening?” Abbie asked.

  Trunk stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him. Whatever they had to talk about, he had a feeling she didn’t want the conversation to be heard. If they were going to discuss what Jerry did, he didn’t want anyone to hear the discussion.

  “You look great.” Trunk leaned against the closed door.

  “Really? You’re going to start with small talk.” Abbie turned around and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “You called me, Abs. I don’t know what this is about.” Trunk mimicked her stance.

  “Then you’ve either got to be the dumbest man in the world, or you’re trying to bullshit me.” Abbie narrowed her eyes.

  “What do you want me to say?” Trunk shrugged.

  “I want to know why you didn’t tell me. Why you ran away and didn’t tell me about your stepfather?” Abbie met his gaze with eyes so intense and focused he could hardly breathe.

  Trunk couldn’t look away from her, but it was hard to find an answer to her question. The reason he didn’t tell her was because he never wanted to see hatred in her eyes. A lot of good it did because the look on her face was like a punch in the chest.

  “Ben, I want a fucking answer.” Abbie raised her voice.

  “What do you want me to say? The last thing I wanted anyone to know was that vile bastard was married to my mother and that I called him Dad.” Trunk shook from wanting to hold her so badly.

  “You’re not him,” Abbie said with such intensity that her voice echoed in her room.

  “I’ll never be like him.” Trunk growled.

  “Why would you think I’d blame you for what he did?” Abbie tossed her hands up in the air but winced and grabbed her side.

  “Calm down, will you? You’re still not healed from nearly being murdered.” Trunk pushed of
f the door and moved toward her.

  “I am calm,” Abbie returned as she eased down on the bed.

  “Jesus, I wouldn’t want to see you upset.” Trunk scoffed and crouched in front of her.

  “Ben, how could you walk away?” Abbie asked, and the tears in her eyes was like a knife in the chest.

  “It was the hardest thing I ever did in my life,” Trunk admitted.

  “I want to hate you right now, but I don’t how to turn off these feelings. I’m missing almost seven years of being without you. To me, my feelings for you are still there,” Abbie whispered.

  “Abs.” Trunk dropped his head and blew out a shaky breath.

  “You let me go, and I was so desperate I said yes to a marriage proposal from a guy with a huge stick up his ass.” Abbie huffed.

  Trunk lifted his head and smiled because she’d just described Chad exactly the way he saw him. At that moment, it was hard to remember how he ever had the strength to stay away from her. He loved her more than he could ever imagine.

  “I’m sorry, Abs,” Trunk whispered as he touched her hand.

  “Oh, ’cause that makes everything better.” Abbie pushed his hand away and stood up.

  “You wanted to talk to me. What do you want me to say?” Trunk stood up.

  Abbie turned away and wrapped her arms around herself. She trembled, and Trunk fisted his hands at his sides to hold down the urge to pull her into his arms. He wanted to make all her pain go away.

  “If the situation was reversed, do you think you could see past what my father did?” Abbie whispered.

  Trunk allowed her words to bounce around in his head. He didn’t know how to put himself in her shoes because he couldn’t think of one thing about Abbie that would make him not love her. Nothing would kill how deeply he felt for her.

  Trunk placed his hand on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. She didn’t raise her head to look at him, so he put his finger under her chin and lifted it until her eyes met his.

  “There’s nothing anyone could have done to make me stop…” Trunk swallowed hard.

  “Stop what?” Abbie murmured.

  “Stop loving you,” Trunk whispered.

  “Then why do you think I would stop loving you?” Abbie placed her hand against his cheek.

  Her touch was like a warm blanket that made everything wrong with his life melt away. Every painful memory of being beaten or kicked by a cruel bastard didn’t seem so horrific when she was close.

  “I saw the pain in your eyes when you talked about your sister. I didn’t want you to look at me and be reminded of that agony every time you saw me,” Trunk whispered.

  Abbie stared into his eyes, and it was as if she could see into his soul. He couldn’t hide all his doubts and pain, and it made it difficult to breathe. When a tear ran down her cheek, he tugged her into his arms.

  “I’m sorry, Abs.” Trunk pressed his lips against the top of her head.

  “I want to hate you right now.” Abbie sniffed but clung to him.

  “You have every right to,” Trunk replied.

  “I can’t. I love you too damn much. You big idiot.” Abbie tucked her head into his chest.

  Trunk smiled because she was right, he was an idiot for letting her go. It was the first time he could take a deep breath since the night he left her. Holding her made him feel alive, and it was hard not to brush all the reasons they couldn’t be together away when the one person who made him feel whole was wrapped in his arms.

  “I… I love you too, Abs,” Trunk murmured.

  Abbie tipped her head back and gazed up at him. Trunk cupped her face and glided his thumbs under her eyes, wiping away the moisture there. As he got lost in the emerald green of her eyes, he lowered his head.

  One soft brush of his lips against her cheek and then her nose. Abbie sighed, and her eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her soft, plump lips. The taste of her brought him to life. Trunk deepened the kiss as Abbie flicked her tongue against his, and he growled into her mouth.

  Trunk knew he had to stop before things got carried away, but ending the kiss was like stopping oxygen. Still, he built up every bit of strength he had and pulled his lips from hers. Abbie’s eyes fluttered open, and she smiled.

  “That, I remember.” She sighed.

  “We shouldn’t do this. You’re not exactly free.” Trunk stepped away and ran his hand over his bald head.

  “You mean that pompous ass who keeps blowing up my phone? No, thank you. I’ve got no interest in him.” Abbie stepped toward Trunk.

  “You’re engaged to him, Abs. You don’t remember right now, but you must love him if you agreed to marry him,” Trunk reminded her.

  “Yeah, then where’s the ring?” Abbie wiggled her fingers.

  “You were robbed,” Trunk reminded her.

  “Look, I don’t know why I would say yes to him, but I’m not going to marry him. I. Love. You.” Abbie poked him in the chest.

  Trunk’s heart felt as if it was about to pop out of his chest just hearing her say the words, but she still didn’t remember how she felt about Chad. He couldn’t take a chance of getting close and then possibly lose her when her memory returned.

  “Abs, you can’t say that. You don’t remember how you feel about Chad,” Trunk covered her hand where it lay in the middle of his chest.

  “I know how I feel now, and I can’t see loving anyone more than I love you,” Abbie told him.

  Trunk stared at her. He’d dreamed of hearing her say those words to him and look at him the way she was at that moment. There was one big problem. Chad. As much as Trunk disliked the guy, he knew what it was like to lose Abbie and he wouldn’t want anyone to live through that agony. Still, deep down Trunk was sure nobody loved her as much as he did.

  “Fuck.” Trunk growled.

  “Tell me about your stepfather,” she said out of the blue.

  “I don’t want to talk about him.” Trunk turned away from her and walked to the window.

  “I know he almost killed your mom,” Abbie whispered as she stepped behind him.

  “Did Sandy tell you that?” Trunk needed to have a long conversation with Sandy.

  “No, my mother did,” she replied.

  Trunk turned around and stared at Abbie. Did she already tell them about Jerry? Was that why Darren was so angry when Trunk arrived? If she did, then Abbie’s father wouldn’t take kindly to his daughter being with Trunk.

  “You told them?” Trunk asked.

  “I didn’t tell them anything. My mother and father heard about it after Laurie died,” Abbie explained.

  Trunk practically held his breath, waiting to hear what Darren and Claire thought. Few people knew about his past, mostly because he didn’t want to talk about it. Once they moved to Corner Brook, his mother didn’t want to discuss anything that happened in St. John’s with Jerry.

  “Ben, I asked you to come here because I wanted you to know what that man did has nothing to do with the type of person you are. You were a kid who was abused by a drunk.” Abbie cupped his cheek.

  “He was looking for me,” Trunk admitted.

  “Why?” Abbie smoothed her hand down the side of his beard.

  “Chris broke a window, and I took the blame. Jerry wanted to punish me for breaking the glass. I ran away before he could, and he got in the car to search for me.” Trunk blew out a breath.

  “Again, you were a kid. Why are you carrying the guilt of something he did?” Abbie held his face between her hands.

  Trunk didn’t have an answer. He’d always felt guilty because he didn’t protect his mother, and it didn’t matter that he was a child at the time. His mother told him once he always had a protective instinct. It was why every job he ever had was keeping people safe. NES wasn’t his first security job, but it was the best.

  “In my dreams, sometimes, I can hear Mom begging him to stop hitting her.” Trunk drew in a shaky breath.

  “I’m so sorry you had to deal with such an evil person,” Abbi
e whispered and pulled him into her embrace.

  Trunk wrapped his arms around her while he tried to keep from falling apart. Abbie was the first person he’d ever told about his nightmares and it was like a weight off his chest.

  “Sorry, to interrupt, but you need to come downstairs, Abbie,” Billie said as she opened the door a crack.

  When Billie stepped into the bedroom Trunk could tell by the expression on her face something was wrong. His stomach churned and a since of dread overpowered him.

  Chapter 12

  Abbie wanted to throw something at Billie until she turned and saw her face. Billie had a particular expression that told Abbie when her friend was stressed or upset about something.

  “What’s wrong?” Trunk asked.

  “The police are downstairs,” Billie told them.

  “Which one of your relatives are here?” Abbie scoffed.

  Billie’s in-laws seemed to be almost half of the Hopedale division of the Newfoundland Police Department. Although from the way Billie’s brows were knit together, something told Abbie the police weren’t here for a social call.

  “Abbie, they’re here to arrest you,” Billie told her.

  “I’m sorry, what?” Abbie gasped.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Trunk moved Abbie behind him.

  “Abbie, they’re charging you with fraud and forgery,” Billie said with a crack in her voice.

  Abbie felt as if the room started to spin and her skin prickled with fear. There was no way she heard Billie correctly. Fraud and forgery? Abbie would never do such a thing.

  “That’s impossible.” Abbie could barely hear her own words.

  “We got an anonymous tip, and we have proof. Abbie, you need to come downstairs.” James O’Connor stepped into the room behind Billie.

  Billie’s brother-in-law was involved with law enforcement. Since he was wearing his badge and weapon, he was clearly on duty and there to arrest her.

  Abbie trembled as her eyes darted back and forth between James and Billie. It had to be a mistake. There was no way this was happening. If it was true, then what kind of person had she become over the last six and a half years? It was hard to believe she could have changed into a person who would do something illegal.