“I have good and bad news,” Reid starts out. “I met with Jean Claude. He pointed out the obvious. That Abbie’s ex was trying to buy the property and then ended up dead. That makes Abbie a big target for the police.”
“So does a red wig and a set-up,” I bite out. “And that sounds like a threat.”
“It is,” Reid replies. “He went on to suggest that if Abbie sells him the shelter property now, at a reasonable price, she won’t look as guilty.”
“Of course, he did,” I say dryly. “And you said what?”
“I got him to up his offer ten percent. Any higher and it still might look like Abbie had the motivation to remove her ex from the picture to get a better offer from Jean Claude.”
“Unfortunately,” Blake says, “I have to agree. Any big payout makes them both look guilty. Like they colluded perhaps beyond the payout for the property. Will Abbie make the deal?”
“She’ll take it,” I say. “And I’ll make sure the animals find a home.”
“We’ll make sure the animals have a home,” Reid corrects. “She can make this the company’s first big charity operation.”
“Count Walker in as well, if you need us,” Blake offers.
“And just to be transparent,” Reid says, “Jean Claude offered Abbie a replacement property for the shelter. I declined. You don’t want to be in debt to Jean Claude but Abbie needs to know. He’ll bring it up to her if he gets the chance.”
“She wants out of this,” I say. “She’ll walk away.”
“What about the murder?” Blake asks. “What did he have to say about who killed Abbie’s ex?”
“He didn’t do it,” Reid says. “I believe him.”
“Why?” Blake demands. “Why trust a man like that?”
Reid’s jaw clenches and he cuts his stare before he looks at Blake, before he tells him what I already know. “I did legal work for that man for years. I saw how he operated. There are things he could use against me. He has no reason to lie to me. And he wouldn’t kill someone by way of a hitman. He’s too smart for that. He’d make it look like an accident. I know. Believe me. I know.”
“Were you a part of these accidents?” Blake asks, his eyes pure steel.
“No,” Reid replies. “I was with him through my father. I parted ways with him when I knew how deep the shit ran, but I’m too connected to him to cut ties completely. Bottom line,” he looks between me and Blake, “he needs Abbie alive and well to look good to the police and she needs him for the same reasons. Outside of that, and pertinent in all ways, he suggested the killer might be someone close to her ex, and with a personal agenda. Perhaps someone who knew Kenneth stole from him and thought he’d be pleased that Kenneth was dead.”
“And is he?” Blake asks.
“No,” Reid replies. “Police attention displeases him. The question now is: who had the most to benefit from Kenneth’s death.”
“I told him about the development,” Blake says, looking at me and then glancing at Reid. “What you don’t know is that your father took over Kenneth’s role in that project when he died.”
“And stands to benefit ten million dollars,” I add.
“I’m not surprised,” Reid says. “I’d already mentally gone there. Jean Claude never said his name to me but he told me to quote ‘get your fucking house in order or I will.’ He went on to say that anyone who brings him legal trouble won’t be around long. We have to handle our father, or he will.”
I look between them. “So just to be clear. We believe that our father killed Kenneth for money?”
“Yes,” Reid and Blake reply at the same time.
“And I now have to tell Abbie that my father killed her ex-husband and framed her for the murder.” I scrub my jaw. “How do I make this right with her?” I ask them because asking myself has gotten me nowhere.
“By putting him in jail for the murder,” Blake suggests. “That gets rid of him for Jean Claude and keeps him alive.” He glances at Reid. “Is that good enough for Jean Claude?”
“It might be,” Reid says. “But we’ll have to prove he did the crime. I have no doubt we can get him to admit it while we record him, but that’s going to punch the company in the mouth. He founded the firm. We’ll be the sons of a killer. Everyone we love will be stalked by the press. Our employees will be affected. We need to all step back and think about this before we take action.”
“Before I do anything, I need to tell Abbie,” I say. “You know what she’s going to think. It’s inevitable. Will I be just like my father? Am I just like my father?” I run a hand through my hair. “Hell, maybe I even told her that I’m just like my father when I wanted to scare her off. I can’t fucking remember.” I look at Reid. “I needed better news than this. Why the hell didn’t you bring me better news?” My voice is low and taut, my words for his ears only.
He leans closer. “You aren’t going to lose Abbie. I didn’t lose Carrie and I shared every dirty little secret I own.”
Because Carrie loves him. Because she already loved him when our bastard father went after her and us. I stand up. “I need to think.” I’m walking by the time I finish that sentence and I don’t look back. I just hope like hell that’s not what Abbie does when she hears just how bad, bad gets with my father, with my family. With me. Hell, because that’s where this is leading. I’ll have to tell her everything. Before my father tells her for me. It needs to be my story, told my way, with my explanation.
Fabulous.
Fucking fabulous.
I not only have to tell her that my father killed her ex-husband and framed her. I have to tell her about Kendall.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Gabe…
I walk Battery Park without even seeing where I’m going, without feeling the cold air whipping off the ocean just beyond the rail. Without caring that I have no coat. The past plays in my head. The present plays in my head. My fucking father won’t get out of my head. And Abbie. Abbie is in every part of me, rooted deep and spreading like sunshine. Light my father is determined to darken, determined to destroy. I don’t know how or when, but I end up in the bar by my office, the one where I met Abbie. The one really damn close to my father’s apartment. I down a fast whiskey, desperate to lessen the edge of my mood, before it’s my fist in his face that does the job. And I do so while sitting at the table in the corner where Abbie was sitting the night I met her. I’m not a violent man though I am a man who believes in consequences. I’ve never physically touched my father and neither has Reid but maybe, just maybe, that’s where we went wrong. We’ve never made him feel real fear, and really, does a man like that understand anything else?
I’m about to order another whiskey when my phone buzzes with a text from Abbie: Where are you? I need you.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I need her, too. What in the hell has happened to me? I now have a dog and a woman waiting on me at home. Home. That word guts me. I haven’t had a home since my mother died. Any place where she was at, was home. Until it wasn’t. Now, home is where Abbie and Dexter wait. I’m a damn fool sitting at a bar. I’m here when I should be there with them. Instead, I’m avoiding the confessions I know have become inevitable. Because I don’t want to lose the woman I know as home. I type a reply: I’m on my way back now. Are you done with Reese?
Yes, she replies. They’re about to leave.
I’ll be right there, I answer, but Reese’s prep work feels short. Why?
I toss money on the table and I’m already walking, determined to get back to the apartment before Reese leaves, his support of Abbie’s interview now in question. My future with Abbie in question as well. You aren’t going to lose, Abbie. Reid’s words come back to me. Reid who has been through this. Reid who, thanks to our father, had to tell Carrie he’d been connected to a murder our father committed. Just one of the ways our father tried to control him, by setting him up, by owning him. Or at least trying to own him.
I’m almost to
the building when my phone rings. I grab it, register Cat’s number and answer. “You’re already done?”
“Reese has a plan, which doesn’t include her answering tons of questions. Which you’d know about had you been there. What’s going on?”
“I can’t talk about this on the phone. I’m on my way there.”
“We’ll meet you in the lobby,” she says. “How far out are you?”
“About two minutes.” I disconnect and finish the walk, stepping into the building to find Cat and Reese standing just inside the door.
“What’s going on?” Cat asks again, her hand resting on her belly just under her trench coat. The belly is what gets me. She’s pregnant. She’s had a lot of stress. I decide right then that I’m not telling her about dad.
“Reid met with Jean Claude. He offered Abbie a buyout and we all think she has to take it. Otherwise, it looks like she was saving the shelter by getting rid of her ex-husband.”
Reese scrubs his jaw. “I don’t disagree but I hate having her manipulated like that. Any chance Reid recorded that conversation?”
“No,” I say. “Jean Claude’s not a man to cross. We don’t want to go down the rabbit hole you’re about to travel. Blaming him to save her will get one of us dead.”
“I hate this,” Cat whispers, and fuck, great job at saving her stress, Gabe.
“Don’t fret, little sis. Reid doesn’t believe he did this. Jean Claude is on our side. He wants someone to go down for this and fast.”
“What keeps him from picking you or Abbie?” Reese asks.
“It seems to me like he already did,” Cat says. “He just wants her to sign over the shelter before she’s arrested.”
“No. This comes from Reid. Reid knows him.”
“Too well,” she snipes back.
“He would agree,” I say. “Bottom line: I have to go up there and get Abbie to agree to sell which I don’t believe will be difficult.” I look at Reese. “How do you feel about things?”
“Ask me tomorrow. Right now, I have another case to deal with and that’s not how I like to operate. Once it’s over, Abbie has me one hundred percent. Let’s hope she doesn’t need me.”
I hug Cat. “Don’t worry. All is well.”
She leans back to look at me. “Dad—”
“Go home. Feed yourself and the baby. Love your husband.”
“I ate pizza,” she says. “We left you some.”
“Hmmm,” I say, studying her belly. “I think you need to eat again. The baby’s sending me subliminal messages. She wants ice cream.”
“We’re on the way to the store,” Reese assures me, and they head for the exit, a mission to feed that baby ice cream.
I don’t move. I stand there in the lobby and call Reid, updating him on what I did and didn’t say to Cat. We agree to protect her where our father is concerned, the best we can for as long as we can. When we hang up I force myself to get inside the elevator. I need to see Abbie. I need to talk to her. I can save Cat from this thing with my father for now but I can’t save Abbie. Not anymore.
The ride is eternal, the car suffocating, adrenaline pumping through me. I won’t lose Abbie. With those words in my head, I step off the elevator and I realize then that I’ve never fought this thing with Abbie. We just happened. We fell into each other, but now, I have to see me in her eyes and it scares the shit out of me.
I reach the door and instead of going for my key, I rest my head on the wooden surface, willing my heart to calm the fuck down. This will work out. I’m falling in love. Hell, I am in love. I could say that. No. No, I can’t say that. Not now. It’ll feel poorly timed and fake. And that’s not the confession I have to make this time.
I’m overthinking. I never overthink. I inhale and decide to just fucking wing it. I open the door, and the minute I do, Abbie and Dexter are running toward me. I’m home. I’m so damn home and the minute they are both by my side, I pet Dexter and then drag Abbie to me. I don’t want to lose her. My intended confession is tossed aside for another. “I don’t ever want to come home and not have you two here to greet me ever again. Move in with me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Abbie…
I blink, stunned by Gabe’s words, not even sure I’ve heard him correctly. “What?”
“Move in with me. I’m not even going to try to pretend I ever want you to leave, Abbie.”
My head is spinning. My heart is racing. “Gabe, if this is about protecting me—”
“It’s not. I mean yes, I want to protect you, Abbie, but that’s one of a million things I want with you. I need you here. Dexter needs you here.”
I’m terrified he’ll regret this. I’m terrified he’ll hurt me when he does. “You’re a protector, Gabe. I don’t even think you know this about yourself, but you are. Let’s decide after this is over.”
“We have no idea when this will be over or even how to determine the meaning of over.”
Alarmed, I pull back to look at him. “What does that mean?”
“What if they don’t find the killer for six months? What if they never find the killer? When is it over? Move in with me, Abbie. Say yes. Be here with me.” Dexter barks his approval, feeding off of Gabe’s energy.
I want to say yes. I do. I want to just be with this man. I want it to be as perfect as it feels, but I’m terrified. This is moving so fast, too fast for me to protect myself. Too fast for him to know what he really wants. “Gabe—”
“This isn’t what you want.” His voice is taut, his body rippling with sudden tension. “That’s what this is.” He cuts his stare and then looks at me, the warmth in his eyes now gone. His look is flat. His tone flatter. “That’s what I needed to know.” He releases me. “That’s the way to put things into perspective.”
“No. No perspective. I just—Gabe. I don’t want you to—”
“End of conversation, Abbie.” He steps around me, and then he’s gone, walking away even as I try to catch his arm.
“Gabe.”
I rotate and so does Dexter. We find Gabe striding rapidly toward the bar, shrugging out of his suit jacket as he does, and I can almost feel him slipping away. I don’t want him to slip away. I hurry toward him and Dexter is right there by my side, a sweet, confident, but polite boy, who knows not to intrude, but needs to be close. I catch up with Gabe as he’s pouring a drink.
I don’t even hesitate. I’m around the bar and grabbing his arm in two seconds flat. He doesn’t even turn to face me. He fills his glass. “Please talk to me.”
“I’m drinking right now.”
“You aren’t giving me the chance to explain.”
“You explained just fine.”
“Obviously I didn’t or you wouldn’t be angry right now.”
He downs his drink and refills it. I grab the glass and take a big swig, the amber liquid burning a path down my throat, but still, Gabe doesn’t look at me. “I’m scared,” I admit. “You scare me.”
He looks down at me. “And I’m not worth that risk, the way you are to me. Check. Got it.”
“You know what I went through. You know how much I have to overcome.”
“And you have no idea what I went through and you never will.”
Anger flares wicked hot. “And there it is. The reason I’m so damn scared with you. You have secrets you never want me to know. Secrets some part of you has determined can’t be told. Telling me destroys us. You don’t trust me or us and yet you want to move in together? When you trust me, really trust me, then I’ll move in with you.” I set the glass down and turn away from him.
He catches my arm and suddenly he’s facing me, dragging me to him. “I told you, I need time.”
“And I respect that, but how do I move in with you now, Gabe? My God. Don’t you see how hard I’m falling for you? Don’t you see how easily you could hurt me? What if you never trust me? What if you never really believe in me or us?”
“Abbie, damn it—”
“I’m going to fall in love w
ith you and you’re going to break my heart. This is how this ends. I need to keep my apartment. I need a place of my own to fall when it’s over.”
He drags me closer, fingers tangling in my hair. “I’m not letting you fall anywhere but into me, woman. What part of that do you not understand? I’m not walking away.” And then he’s kissing me, a deep, curl-my-toes kiss, and I’m no longer holding back.
Sinking into his long, lean, hard perfection, he’s warm and strong and I hold on tight. I never want to let go. I have never in my life wanted anyone the way I want Gabe. I have never needed anyone the way I need Gabe. I have never wanted to kiss until I can kiss no more, but I do now. I do with Gabe.
“Say you’ll move in with me,” he demands, tearing his mouth from mine.
“Gabe,” I whisper, desperate for him to understand. “Take the time to trust me. I will give it to you.”
“I trust you.”
It’s then that I realize that denying him anything is like holding me and us ransom and that’s not what I want. That’s not what I mean to do. “I want—”
“I want,” he echoes and his mouth closes down on mine, and this time, there is demand and lust in his kiss, in his touch. He owns me right there by the bar, without ever taking off my clothes. This man claims me with his tongue, with his hand running down my back. With the emotions inside him, overflowing into me, around me. This man consumes me.
I don’t even think about holding back when he yanks my skirt up to my waist. My sex clenches and my mouth is right there with his, colliding again, tasting the hunger on his lips as my own. He grips my panties and yanks, my yelp transforming to a moan as his fingers slide along the wet seam of my body, pressing inside me. “Gabe,” I pant, gripping his tie and pulling on the knot. He has on too many clothes.
He lifts me and sets me on the counter and in a frenzy of movement, he’s just naked enough to press his cock inside me, to drive into me, thick and hard. And he does. He drives deep, nestles into the farthest part of me, and whispers by my ear, “I need you with me, Abbie.”
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