“Then you need to hear me when I tell you to wake the fuck up, Abby,” my friend had said roughly. “People like Marcus don’t do this to play. They do it for love.” With that she’d wheeled herself to her cab, leaving me staring after her. Stunned.
And a lot of things to think about on the drive home. Not least being whether Stacy really was on my side, or whether I had finally managed to drive my only friend in the world away.
Just like everyone else.
I tried to make it home in one long run. I didn’t want to stop for fear that what I’d left behind might catch up with me. But when the road became a blurry gray, and the center line wavered into two shimmering streaks, I conceded defeat and pulled over into one of the nameless, faceless hotels on the outskirts of Toledo.
After sustaining myself all day on coffee, I was in the mood for something a little stronger. Okay, a lot stronger. I dumped my bag in my room and headed straight for the bar. The hour was late but it was still open and there were two others desperate enough to use it. One old guy nursed a beer in a darkened corner while a businessman in a cheap, shiny suit sat at the bar. His eyes looked as red and droopy as I felt. Still, they flickered with interest when I entered.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered if this was fate, the perfect opportunity to put Marcus behind me. If I found someone—anyone—to fill the hollow ache, it would prove I didn’t really care about him. That it’d all been a figment of my imagination. All I wanted to do was forget Marcus, so the pain in my chest would ease and the sick feeling in my gut would fade.
I dropped into a seat two chairs down from the younger man and he eyed me up as I glanced over.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
I’d barely settled at the bar before he made the offer. And I considered it. He looked decent enough, and he had a nice smile. It was only when I looked behind the smile that I could see loneliness clinging to him like a tangible aura.
While this kind of one-night stand didn’t hold the thrill of my normal hunt and chase, in principal I wasn’t averse to spending a night in bed with a stranger. A chance to fuck my way to oblivion. And he looked a little like Marcus…my body showed the first stirrings of interest.
“I won’t even ask your name.” He slid from his seat to take up residence on the stool beside me.
I wished he hadn’t. Up close, he didn’t look like Marcus at all…and didn’t that just suck the sexy right back out of me? No longer in the mood for a drink, I smiled with the barest stretch of my lips, my feeling of emptiness intensifying.
“Actually, I’m not thirsty anymore.”
I knew I’d made the right decision when my knockback barely registered a reaction. The businessman hadn’t even wanted me. I could’ve been anyone else and the offer would have been the same.
Suppressing a shudder, I beat a hasty retreat to my hotel room, relieved I hadn’t become that jaded. Yet. I refused to look too closely into my future. Red-eyed and desperate.
Besides, there were other ways to stop the incessant tumble of thoughts about Marcus, one of which included draining the mini-bar of anything resembling liquor. Only then did I get some much-needed sleep.
My hangover the next morning stung like a bitch. And coming home was another hit to the solar plexus. I tried to ignore the emptiness of my apartment echoing back on a loop of silence. The sterile rooms meant nothing to me, a reflection of my own self-image, cold and empty.
Even Stacy had abandoned me. I stood in the hallway, willing the tears of self-pity away. Crying was weak. And weak people never won. I dropped my bag in the laundry to sort later, pushing down the sharp pang of hurt as I set about methodically wiping down dusty surfaces, unpacking my bag and restoring my wardrobe to its correct order.
Several times, my eyes lit on the phone in the corridor and the space where the answering machine used to be. I almost wished my sister would ring. At least then I might be able to release the hard ball of bitterness eating my insides. I wanted to scream and rant, to rage at Nicky about how she and Nathan had ruined my life.
Of course, both phones stayed frustratingly quiet.
An empty apartment could only be endured for so long and it was a relief to leave for the office after the weekend. God, when I’d run from Marcus like an escaped convict, I’d never considered how much worse it would be in Chicago on my own. It didn’t even feel like home. Without Stacy the office was just another room. There was nothing in here that was mine. No desk. No attachments. Nothing to anchor me.
I laid my head on the table, the cool wood doing little to dull my thoughts. I was torn up—old wounds rendered apart, fresh cuts dripping with acrid regret. This time around the loss was so much more.
Which made no sense. Nathan had been the love of my life, the man I was going to marry. He’d betrayed me. My family had betrayed me, yet here I was, barely able to move because of Marcus, whom I’d hardly known for two months.
Then there was my argument with Stacy. Stacy and I never fought and her anger had been like a slap to the face. Shocking. Devastating.
It would be easy to sit here and wallow in self-pity and let that drive a wedge between us. One less relationship for me to have to worry about. One less burden for Stacy to carry.
Except, if Stacy abandoned me, then what?
It was a no-brainer to pick up the phone.
“Why do you put up with me?” I barely waited for Stacy to answer. “I’m the worst friend ever! Yet you put up with all of my shit and clean up my problems for me. Why?”
“Because, I’m a sucker for punishment.” Stacy didn’t sound that surprised to hear from me. A sigh puffed down the phone. “You have no idea what you give me, do you? You think you’re incapable of caring. That’s bullshit. You care for me. And Terry. Hell, even my horrible kids.”
“Yeah, of course I do. I’m your friend.” I tried out a smile. “Anyway, they’re not horrible.”
“No. And neither are you,” Stacy said. “You try and act like you don’t care, like you’re in some emotion-free asylum, but you’re not. You care.” She took advantage of my silence to press on. “Caring for me doesn’t hurt you, does it?”
“No, of course not.” I found my voice to protest. “You’re the best thing in my life.”
“And isn’t that a miserable indictment?” Stacy laughed sadly. “You could have that with other people too, you know.” A pause. “You should talk to Marcus.”
I sucked in a breath at the mention of his name, my chest constricting. I wanted to relegate him to yet another taboo subject swept under the doormat of my life. Another Nathan.
Marcus had accused me of letting Nathan steal something from me. He didn’t understand why I hadn’t fought back, especially when he knew how hard I could fight. But the truth was, I hadn’t wanted to. What was the point? Nicky had won Nathan. He’d made his choice and I’d let him go. As I hung up the call, my chest squeezed tight and my hand flew to my throat.
I’d let him go. Would I have let Marcus go so easily… I knew the answer before the question formed in my mind and a sick feeling spread through my stomach. Hell. No. If Nathan had been Marcus, I would never have let Nicky get near him. I’d have fought tooth and nail to keep him.
I grabbed up my keys and ran to the car. The only way to be sure was to see Nicky. I knew where she lived. I’d driven past their house enough times, torturing myself with images of Nicky and Nathan.
I had to see Nicky one last time and put it behind me. Fight. Scream or cry. It had to end.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Abby
“Abby?” Nicky opened the door, surprise widening her eyes. A smile started to form then fell away when she saw the determination on my face. Her gaze flicked to the side. “What are you doing here?”
I blew out a breath, trying to fight through the numbness to find my outrage. This was my chance to speak my piece, to release three years of pent up hurt, to let my sister know once and for all that her and Nathan and the baby would never be a part of my li
fe.
I took one breath. Then another.
The seething rage that had always bubbled close to the surface was a silent, icy pool. Cold. Calm. Not gone. Not forgotten…but… Staring at the woman who had once been my sister, all I could think about were Marcus’s words. How by not letting go, I’d trapped us all in the past. There were lines of strain around Nicky’s mouth, her eyes anxious and darting.
Yet, I wasn’t ready to let her off the hook. Not yet. Too much had passed.
“You’re the one who keeps calling me.” I glared at her. “What do you want?”
Nicky’s eyes clouded with tears. “I want my sister back,” she said, taking a step forward. “I miss you.”
“You should’ve thought about that before you fucked my fiancé.” A small pang of anger sparked to life in my gut. But mostly I just felt sad. And tired.
“This has got to stop, Abby,” Nicky said quietly. “You weren’t even sure you loved Nathan. You admitted that to me the week before the wedding.”
“Everyone has pre-wedding jitters, Nicky.” Hurt slammed back with a vengeance. “It will never excuse what you did. It doesn’t make it right.”
“We didn’t know how to tell you,” my sister wailed with another of her well-worn pleas.
I clenched my hands into fists. “So you waited until I said something? Waited for me to speak up before you decided to come clean about what you were doing. You’re both cowards.” I spat, finally letting loose my anger. And it felt good. My sister blanched and Nathan stepped up beside her. I hadn’t expected that. He rested a hand on Nicky’s back. I steeled myself to look at him, waiting for the pain to hit. Instead I felt only sorrow—sadness for the man I’d thought had loved me. For his weakness at not being able to tell me the truth. Fuck it. I’d deserved better.
“God. I’m so sorry, Abby. But I knew you didn’t love him, not like I love him. I gave up everything for him.”
“Everything?” I laughed roughly, unmoved by her tears. “You stole him. You stole my life!”
“I gave up you,” Nicky cried out, her eyes glittering with tears.
“Big fucking deal. You still had someone you could share your life with.” I shut my eyes against the sudden well of my own tears. Tears I refused to shed. “You had love. You had each other. I haven’t had any of that.” My gaze flicked between Nicky and Nathan, knowing they would never understand what their betrayal had cost me. “I will never trust anyone the way I trusted you. I’m always looking for the end before I even get to the beginning. You stole so much more than my fiancé.” My stare arrowed back to Nathan. “Or my sister.”
Nathan couldn’t meet my eyes. I expected that. Nicky at least had the decency to look shattered. “Oh God. Abby. I didn’t know. I never thought you would…” She swallowed back her tears and took a step forward. “You’re so beautiful and kind and full of love. I felt sure you would find someone.” She flicked a glance toward Nathan. Her someone.
“That was who I used to be.” My voice was bleak with loss. I remembered how I’d been, how easily I had fallen in and out of love before I’d met Nathan. Then with my pregnancy scare and the engagement, I’d thought that was it—a solid, stable life with Nathan forever…until they’d ripped everything out from under my feet. I’d never seen it coming and it was like my world had suddenly ended.
But in some ways, hadn’t it also begun? I’d finished my degree. I’d started up a decent business with Stacy. I’d met Marcus…
“I know I can never fix this.” Nicky drew my attention back to her and Nathan. “I know you don’t want to be in my life. And I deserve that. But the baby…” She let me truly see the guilt ripping her apart. “Do you think it was easy knowing I hurt you? I’m your big sister. I’m the person you should be able to trust! I can’t tell you how sorry I am for ruining that for you.” Nicky paused and her gaze found Nathan. “I know I hurt you, Abby and I wish I could take it back,” she said, a sob catching in her throat. “But I can’t give him up. I just can’t.”
The raw anguish in Nicky’s voice was like taking a knife in the back all over again. I clenched my jaw shut and made myself look at them. Really look at them. Standing together, it was clear they were connected in more ways than just physical with the small, unconscious touches, the unspoken communication, the love…
And they were unhappy because of me.
I took a step back. We’d all suffered. Nicky. Nathan. Even my cowardly mother. Nathan had never been a player. He was a kind and loving man who had fallen in love and hadn’t known what to do. The person he loved was my sister. My sister was right. I had probably never loved him. Not like Nicky did.
It would never excuse what they’d done to me, but I could see their love was something they’d been prepared to do anything to keep hold of. It was the kind of love I deserved too. Seeing Nicky and Nathan, I realized I wanted to be loved like that. To love in return. Fiercely. Irrevocably. Forever.
My hands dropped to my sides and the hollow ache of despair filled me as I realized it was exactly the kind of love I had just turned my back on.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Marcus
I paced the corporate lounge of LAX, one flight away from my final destination after a twelve hour flight from New Zealand. Glancing at my watch, I rubbed the grit from my eyes. Peered again. Four thirty. Was it afternoon or morning? Daylight glinted off the line of planes grounded on the tarmac.
Afternoon then.
I slumped into the chair I’d dropped my overnight bag by earlier. The trip had been grueling, turning into more than just one night, more than one continent. Usually, I looked forward to getting home, except this time I knew what would be waiting. Nothing.
Twenty-odd years and I had finally learned the cruel lesson that sometimes you had to lose to win. All my life I’d thought losing meant you were less than the other person. That you were less than nothing. Only to find that losing was sometimes the better thing to do.
But it was so much harder.
You did it because you cared enough about someone to want to lose. You did it for love.
Not that Abby had wanted to hear any of that. It was so damn frustrating. For the first time, this was something I couldn’t fix fast and forget. I was powerless to move on and there wasn’t a game plan in the world that could give me back control.
How had this happened? After Abby had come to me and offered herself, a brief glimmer of hope had flared that she might want what I wanted. Stupidly, I had thought her willingness to open up had meaning.
Then she’d run. That had cut deep, knowing she didn’t trust me with her heart. Even after I’d told her I loved her, she still thought it was part of the game.
I missed her. I missed every single, crazy piece of Abby Harkness. I’d tried to escape the hurt by whipping overseas to sort out the Nagasaki situation once and for all. I’d gone to New Zealand expecting to sell the company and fire my thirty-three workers. I was ready for that. In fact in my present mood, I’d relished the thought of taking control and destroying something. Anything.
Then Rob had launched into an impassioned plea about what the company meant to him and how if I supported him he would turn the failing business into a success. Rob had promised to invest every cent of his own money, if that was what it took to keep the company afloat. His hunger to accomplish the near impossible struck a chord with me and I’d taken pity. It reminded me of when I’d experienced the same hunger. The passion.
All it would take was one chance.
One chance. Something Abby had never given me. It was a bleak thought, but then, anything to do with Abby was raw to the touch right now. And she was never far from my thoughts.
Where was her passion? Where was her fight?
Where was mine?
Or had I been so busy trying to win Abby, I’d forgotten to show her I was worth fighting for?
I loved her. But I’d been so caught up in the fact I was losing, that I’d never shown Abby how much she actually meant to me
. She’d hid in the game because she’d been hurt and was protecting herself, and all I had done was push her to play harder.
Fuck. I dropped my head in my hands and pressed my fingers against my eyelids.
What had I been trying to prove? I’d known she was hurting, yet I had arrogantly expected Abby to give me everything while I offered nothing in return. Just pushed her harder. Until she’d broken.
When was the last time I’d stopped and simply enjoyed life, appreciated something, or someone, without calculating how I could beat them?
I had faith in my feelings for Abby. I’d thought we had a future together and it was something I wanted more than any company I’d ever acquired. Any success. Any win.
My fingers curled and uncurled against my thigh. I was going to have to fight for Abby to give me my one chance. I took no enjoyment from that fact, but I vowed she would give it to me. I’d keep fighting because that was all I knew how to do and because I couldn’t let Abby go until she knew the truth. I loved her. I really, truly, fucking loved her.
It was only the fact I was so damned tired that I didn’t hop on a plane right then to Chicago. I needed a clear head to form the game plan of my life.
When I finally let myself into my apartment, it was well into the wee hours of the morning. I threw my keys on the counter, not bothering to turn on the lights. There was nothing here I wanted.
I half-undressed before collapsing into bed to wait for the exhaustion to haul me into sleep. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen either. I groaned as a familiar scent hit me like a punch to the gut. I had changed the sheets a million times since that last night with Abby, yet I could still smell her, feel her touch and hear her sexy laughter.
Being hurt sucked. I sighed. What did they say? At least you knew you were living. Oh, I knew I was living all right. My heart twisted painfully as I tried to forget about Abby Harkness for five minutes and get some much needed sleep.
When I awoke sometime later—or at least dreamed I did—it was to a warm body pressed against me. “Wha…”
His Rules (One Night Stand Series Book 1) Page 12