That didn’t last long, though. “Um, Lance?”
Abby’s tentative voice drew his attention. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Uh, would you mind turning off the TV? Or watching something on your laptop in the bedroom? I’m working on a translation project and the TV in the background is really distracting.”
He hit the power button on the remote, surprised. She didn’t normally do translations, and when she had to read for her Spanish classes she went into the bedroom if he was home. “Of course. What class is that for?” He sat up straighter so he could see her over the couch.
She looked down and fiddled with the papers on the table, moving them around. “Oh. Um, well, it’s not for a class.”
Curiosity piqued, he stood and went over to the table. “Oh yeah? What’s it for?”
“Doctor Ramirez helped me find work translating documents. Mostly simple, boring stuff like birth and death certificates.” She shrugged, still not looking up at him. “It pays decently.”
As she spoke, Lance’s brows drew together even more, and he pulled out a chair and sat down next to her, hands resting on the table. “Why are you worried about getting more money?”
She glanced at him and looked back down, fiddling with her pen. “I wanted to replenish my savings.”
“You know you don’t have to worry about rent.” He reached for her hand when she started to tug at her lower lip.
“I know. But …” She looked around the room like the words she wanted might be written on the walls before her gaze finally—finally—settled on him, her eyes meeting his. “It’s … hard. I like having that cushion. It makes me feel better, more secure. Like I can take care of myself if I need to.”
“But, Abby, I can—”
She shook her head and cut him off. “I know. I know you make plenty of money, and you’ve told me a million times. I know. But …”
He squeezed her fingers, trying to be encouraging. Maybe if she finished that sentence he would finally understand her need to keep their finances separate, her need for independence. “But what?”
She pulled her hand from his, dropping her gaze to her hands in her lap. “But …” Drawing in a deep breath, she seemed to be trying to gather her courage along with it. “I know you love me. And I love you. But beyond that we haven’t made any promises to each other. We haven’t … Nothing’s guaranteed. Even the people that are supposed to always be there for you don’t live up to their end of the bargain.”
His hands clenched, his stomach twisting at the implication that he might bail on her. “Abby.” He put as much weight behind her name as he could, hoping to get her to look up at him.
She did. But her mouth was tight, and she shook her head again. “I know what you’re going to say, Lance. I know. But it’s not about you. No, I don’t think you’re going to cut and run with no warning. But …”
“But.” His voice was dark now, and he stood, unwilling to listen to this. “But you’ll always judge me against your bastard father and asshole brother.”
Hurt tinged her blue eyes when she looked up at him. And he felt like a dick, but he didn’t care right now. That she compared him to them and thought he might ever treat her like that pissed him off. She spread her hands palms up in a gesture of helplessness.
With a shake of his head, he looked away. He needed to get out of here and clear his head before he said something he regretted. This shouldn’t piss him off as much as it did. It was nothing new. He knew that deep down she always made that comparison, always created some kind of fallback plan just in case. Just in case he left. That’s what that meant. Just in case he abandoned her.
And here he was with a ring stashed in the closet, waiting for more than two months to propose. But would it ever work if she wouldn’t trust him? But there was that other idea in her statement—the idea that a promise might make her feel more secure. Would it really? And how could he expect her to make that kind of commitment when she still wouldn’t tell him the truth about where her money had gone?
He needed to think, to figure things out. And he couldn’t do that here, sitting still. “I’m gonna go work out. I can’t—I need—” He blew out a breath, trying to formulate a sentence, and he looked back down into her hurt face, noticing the moisture gathering along her lower lids. She blinked rapidly, and he softened. “I’m going to go so you can finish your work without me bothering you. I’ll text you when I’m done, okay?”
She nodded, and he brushed a swift kiss on her lips before heading to the bedroom to change into his workout clothes. When he came back out, her head was once again bent over the documents she worked on. He stared at her for a long moment before grabbing his phone to see if Chris or Matt were available to meet him at the gym where they liked to work out. Maybe they could help him figure this shit out.
Lance came back from working out after their conversation seeming less angry. But Abby still felt awful, frustrated with herself for being unable to accept Lance taking care of her and guilt over her lie eating at her constantly. He’d stopped asking about her mom, though, which made it easier to pretend that everything was fine.
The next week was Spring Break, and Abby spent it mostly bored. She had a few extra translation jobs that she’d picked up, but they only took a few hours. Megan was gone with Chris to visit his family in Port Orchard, and Lance had to work.
She was so bored that she visited her mom on Wednesday. She hadn’t been since she’d come to give Aaron the money weeks ago. And to her dismay, he didn’t appear to be leaving any time soon.
As usual, her mom was happy to see her, and still seemed to be clueless about Aaron taking all of Abby’s money. After exchanging pleasantries, they sat down in the living room, her mom in her usual spot on the end of the sofa. Abby glanced around, surprised her brother hadn't come out yet. "Is Aaron home?" It was almost two in the afternoon. Was he still in bed?
"Oh, no. He left this morning. He's gone for a while most days. Off making money."
Abby raised an eyebrow. "He got a job?"
"I guess so. He leaves in the mornings and is gone all day. And he has money. He's been paying for the groceries lately."
That was even more surprising. "Really?" Huh. Maybe Aaron staying with her mom wasn't as bad as she thought. And if he'd gotten a job, then maybe he could move into his own place soon like she'd made him promise to do when she gave him her money. "So it's been good for you? Having him here?"
Her mom nodded, her pinched expression smoothing into a small smile. "He helps with stuff around the house, fixing the little things that are hard for me to do. I get so tired."
"Mom, if you need things fixed you can always call me. Lance is happy to help too."
Her mom waved a hand. "Oh, but you're so busy, and you live all the way in Spokane. I don't want to bother you." It went unspoken that she still wasn't comfortable having Lance in her house, even though he'd mowed her yard every week into late October and helped with other things too. Since Aaron was here, would he take care of their mom's yard now that it was early spring? Soon it would need watering and mowing on a regular basis. If they could at least keep the weeds back to the edges, that would be a big improvement.
Abby didn't agree or disagree, not wanting to start a fight or upset her mom. And now that she knew her mom spent more time alone than she realized, Abby went back to visit her on Thursday and Friday as well.
Except on Friday, Aaron was there. Abby froze for a second when she saw him lounging on the couch. He gave her a nod—one of those guy gestures that’s just an upward jerk of the chin. "Hey, Abs. How's it going?"
She clenched her fists at her sides at his use of her nickname but didn't call him on it. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he got under her skin. "Hey, Aaron. I hear you got a job?"
He scratched the blond beard on his chin and looked away. "Uh, yeah."
Hmm. That wasn't the most positive thing he could've said. "Well, thanks for helping mom out with the groceries and
stuff."
All she got in response was a shrug, his attention focused on the TV again. He turned up the volume a couple of notches, sending a clear signal that he didn’t want to talk. Abby rolled her eyes at his asshole behavior and turned to chat with her mom in the kitchen.
After spending a couple of hours talking to her mom, Abby stood to go. “I’ll try to come visit during the day again soon. The semester always gets busiest after Spring Break, so I don’t know how much time I’ll have, especially taking on the extra translation projects. But I’ll do my best.”
Her mom gave her a wan smile and a gentle hug that was more placing her arms around Abby’s shoulders than anything. “Okay. I always love it when you visit. See you soon.”
Abby patted her mom’s back once before she broke off the hug and moved toward the door. Aaron stood, his hands in his pockets, following behind her. She gave him a look, trying to determine what he was up to, but he just gave her a bland expression in response. He obviously wanted something from her, so, with a sigh, she led the way out the front door.
Once outside, she stood next to her car, arms crossed, waiting to hear what he had to say. Past experience told her it wouldn’t be good.
He stood in front of her, his hands still in his pockets, his eyes taking in her posture, that calculating gleam she was all too familiar with in place.
When he didn’t say anything, she decided to give in and break the silence first. The sooner he spit out whatever he wanted, the sooner she could go home. “What do you want, Aaron?” She didn’t bother to keep the irritation out of her voice.
That smirk that she always wanted to slap off his face appeared. “Who says I don’t just wanna walk you to your car?”
“When has that ever been the case with you?”
“Aw, come on, Abs. I took care of you a lot when we were kids.”
She huffed out a laugh, though she didn’t find this conversation all that amusing. “Yeah. That was a long time ago. Lately it seems like the opposite is true.” She arched an eyebrow at him.
He had the grace to look abashed, dropping his gaze to the ground and running a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, about that …”
She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. Why was every conversation with him like pulling teeth? “About what? Just spit it out, Aaron. I don’t have time for this.”
That smirk again. “I thought you’d been coming around this week because you didn’t have anything better to do.”
“As exciting as these conversations with you always are, I’d like to go home, so if you have something to say, say it already.”
His face grew serious, his eyes still calculating. “So, about that money you gave me …”
“You used it to pay those guys off, right? That’s what it was for. And then you were going to get a job. Mom said you’ve been paying for things, so that means you got a job, right?”
He stared at her, and she dreaded his answer at the same time she needed to hear it. “Right, Aaron?”
Looking away at the trees behind her, he gave a tiny shake of his head.
Cold dread filled her. “Where have you been going during the day?”
He shrugged, a careless gesture that conveyed nothing and everything all at once.
“Aaron? Where have you been going?” She used her best classroom voice, putting every ounce of strength behind her words to try to force him to answer.
“I used part of the money you gave me to buy some time, then I used the rest to try to make more money. I was on a winning streak for the last few weeks, and things were going good. But yesterday and the day before didn’t go so well. I borrowed some money again, and lost it all. I need more.”
“No.”
“Abby, come on—”
“No!” She didn’t care that she was shouting, that their mom might hear their argument through the flimsy walls of her manufactured home. “You said that you needed the money to pay off your gambling debt. You said you’d get a job or leave town once you did that.”
“Abby, I—”
“No! No, Aaron. You promised me. I told you that was it. I emptied my savings. I gave you all I had. I don’t have any more.”
He shifted his stance, putting on his best pleading puppy dog face. “But you’ve been taking on those extra translation jobs. That has to pay pretty well. And your boyfriend’s got extra cash just lying around. Enough to pay for you to fly to Texas and change your tickets on a whim. Enough to just hand me a wad of bills from his wallet like it’s nothing. Ask him.”
Abby stood shaking her head throughout his little speech, disbelief warring with the realization that she’d been waiting for this since he’d taken her money and stayed. Some part of her knew that he’d ask for more. He couldn’t help himself.
“You need help.”
He nodded, looking pleased, like she finally understood him. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying. I need—”
“No, Aaron. I mean you need psychological help. Like rehab. For gambling addicts. Do they have that? I mean, I think I’ve heard of Gambler’s Anonymous.” Her eyes had wandered away from him, looking over his head while she thought out loud, but zeroed in on him again. “Start there. I’ll find you their number.”
But he was shaking his head. “No, I just need some cash to get these guys off my back.”
“That’s what you said before. It’s been a month. A month! What happens if you do con someone into giving you money? In another month you’ll need more again? Or will it be less this time? Two weeks? Two days?”
He scoffed. “It wouldn’t be two days. I’m trying to become a professional poker player. You have to—”
“With my money! With my boyfriend’s money! Get a job and gamble with your own money, jackass! No! I told you I wouldn’t give you anything after last time, and I meant it! I can’t believe you! I can’t believe I—” Not even finishing her sentence she whirled around, yanking her car door open.
Aaron’s hand reached over her shoulder, slamming it shut. “Come on, Abby. Please? I just need a couple thousand this time. Your boyfriend won’t even miss it. Hasn’t he put you on his bank accounts already? I saw the way he looked at you. That guy’s totally whipped. You have him wrapped around your little finger.”
She spun to face him once more, shoving him back. He stumbled, more because she’d caught him off guard than any real ability on her part to overpower him. “Oh my god, Aaron. Seriously? Do you hear yourself? You want me to ask him for money, or, if I won’t do that, just steal it for you? And, not that it’s your business, but I don’t have access to his accounts. Because I didn’t feel right about sharing a bank account with him. I don’t take advantage of the people who care about me. I don’t use them so I can get whatever the fuck I want, everyone else be damned.”
He shook his head. “Your loss, Abs. With your looks, you could get a lot of cash from pathetic dudes.”
“Fuck you, Aaron. I’m not a whore. Leave. Go back to wherever you came from, and leave us alone. We’ve all got enough problems as it is. None of us need you to add to them. Con some sap into giving you enough money to get out of here. And don’t bother calling again.”
She jerked her car door open again and got in before Aaron could stop her. Once behind the wheel, she noticed that he hadn’t even tried. He stood there, frozen, his hands in his pockets once more, only his eyes moving to follow her progress as she backed up and turned around before heading out onto the street. After checking to be sure no cars were coming, she watched him in her rearview mirror as she pulled away. Wondering—hoping this might be the last time she saw him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Fuck! I can't believe him. I can't even—”
Abby's voice carried from the kitchen, her uncharacteristic cursing combined with the sound of things banging together Lance's clue that something was wrong. “Abby?”
Silence greeted him. He closed the door behind him and set his keys on the table by the door before moving to the kitchen.
He found Abby in front of the sink, arms braced on the counter, head down and back bowed. She had her hair pulled up into a messy bun, chunks of it falling down to shield her face.
He stepped closer and ran a hand up her back. “Abby? What's wrong?”
She sniffed and lifted her head, running the back of her wrist across her nose, a wet sponge still clenched in her fingers. When she looked at him, her eyes were red and swollen, tear tracks fresh on her cheeks. His gut clenched, worry coursing through him. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Her lips parted and something between a laugh and a sob came out. “No. Yeah. I don't—”
“Come here.” He gathered her into his arms, fitting her against his chest and rubbing her back. She clutched his shirt and sobbed against him, the wet patch on his shirt growing. While he held her, he glanced around the kitchen. A glass pan sat in the sink, the one that she'd been annoyed still had gunk around the edges after she'd made lasagna in it last week.
He waited until she quieted down. When she pulled back enough to wipe at her face, he pulled the sponge out of her hand and tossed it in the sink, leading her to the living room so they could talk.
Grabbing the box of tissues from the entertainment center, he settled next to her. She stared at her hands, which lay limp in her lap. He sat next to her sideways so he could face her, running the back of his hand down her arm in a gesture of comfort. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, mute.
“Sick?”
Another head shake.
“Is it one of our friends? Anyone we know hurt or sick?”
“No. No one’s hurt or sick.” It came out a hoarse whisper that he almost didn’t catch. But at least she was talking.
He took a deep breath and let it out. “Your mom?”
Her eyes flicked to his and away. She shook her head again. “My mom’s fine.”
Unable to watch her staring at her limp hands, he reached out and covered one of them with his, bringing it over to his leg, wrapping both his hands around her smaller one, still damp from either washing dishes or wiping at her tears. Or both.
PMU Boxset 2 Page 18