by Cate Beauman
He pulled paper towels from the holder and ran them under cold water in the next sink over, damning Lorenzo Cruz and his attorney to hell.
She rinsed her mouth and stood up straight, pale and sweaty, holding his gaze with devastated eyes.
“Here,” he said gently, wiping at her forehead with the damp towel.
“Thanks,” she choked out.
“Damn, Abby. Come here.” He pulled her into his arms, aching for her. “Come here,” he repeated, pressing her cheek to his chest, holding on as her shoulders shook with her quiet sobbing.
“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t go back in there.”
“You don’t have to.” He ran a hand through her hair. “It’s all over. You more than threw away that key.”
“I don’t want to be here anymore.”
He drew her away, staring into her eyes. “So let’s go.”
“I need to see Margret.”
He opened his mouth to object. She’d had more than enough, but he nodded anyway.
“I need to say goodbye.” She sniffled.
She wouldn’t have peace until she did. “We’ll get some flowers.”
“She liked daisies.”
“We’ll take the guys back to the island and find some daisies.”
She took his hand, kissing his knuckles. “Thank you.”
He winked. “You’re welcome.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too. Let’s go say goodbye.”
She nodded, wiping her cheeks.
~~~~
Abby kept her speed to a crawl as she drove Carol’s sedan along the scarred roads of Severna Hills Cemetery, searching for the angel statue Agent Terron remembered from Margret’s funeral two and a half weeks ago. She slowed further, spotting the tall, weathered landmark casting shadows over several plots in the distance. She hesitated, then stopped, gripping the steering wheel tighter as her gaze traveled over dull, leafless trees, gray headstones, and brown grass peeking through patches of snow.
She glanced to the bright blue sky, waiting for the wash of peace she always felt when she brought flowers to Gran’s gravesite in Hagerstown, but the warm sense of tranquility remained wretchedly absent. Today she was as sick at heart as she was to her stomach. “This is wrong,” she murmured, frowning, hating that she was here among these sacred grounds.
Jerrod leaned in close, his chin brushing her hair as he looked out the driver’s side window from the passenger’s seat. “I think this is it. Terron said her plot’s close to the praying angel.”
She shook her head. “No, this entire situation. Look at this place. It’s so…lifeless and horrible.” She scoffed at herself, turning in her seat, rolling her eyes as they met his. “Of course it’s lifeless. I mean Margret was so young. She shouldn’t be here.”
He slid his thumb along her jaw. “No she shouldn’t.”
She looked down at the pretty bouquet of friendly daisies Jerrod held in his lap. “I should’ve brought different flowers. I should’ve picked something with more color.” She scoffed for the second time and closed her eyes, full well knowing she was focusing on the trivial instead of the overwhelming reality that this was a fifteen-year-old girl’s final resting place.
“We can go get something different.”
She shook her head, meeting his gaze, treasuring his patient understanding. “It doesn’t matter. Pink flowers, red or purple won’t bring her back. They won’t make this any less awful.”
“No,” he said gently.
“I don’t want—” She swallowed as her throat tightened with a choking ball of emotion. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”
He took her hand, pressing a long, firm kiss to her knuckles. “I wish you didn’t have to. I wish I could change this.” He kissed her again.
“Thank you.” She blinked away her tears and glanced toward the gravestones, nibbling her lip, knowing she needed to get out and do what she’d come to do. “I need to find her.” She took the bouquet of cheerful daisies from Jerrod and opened her door.
“Do you want me to come?”
The offer was tempting, but she shook her head, giving him a small smile. “I think I should do this myself.”
“Sure. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
“I love you.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I love you so much, Jerrod.”
“I love you too.”
Bolstered by his unending support, she straightened her shoulders. “Okay. Here I go.” She got out of the warm car, bracing herself against the cold as she clutched the flowers and started up the path, picking her way over the clumps of snow in her sneakers and jeans, looking for the black marble headstone Agent Terron said would be Margret’s.
Veering off the concrete, she walked among the graves, moving closer to the angel, stopping when the pretty young face etched in stone caught her eye. Tears instantly flooded her cheeks and a keening moan escaped her throat as she crouched down, studying Margret’s bright eyes and beautiful smile in the eternal picture. “Oh, Margret.” She slid her finger down the image of the long brown hair she’d brushed and braided numerous times. “You smiled at me like that sometimes when we forgot, for just a second, that life outside my bedroom door wasn’t what either of us wanted.” She sniffled. “I’m glad we had each other. You were my best friend during the worst time of my life.”
The plastic protecting the flowers crinkled in the wind, and she looked down, setting the bouquet among the dead blooms still piled high from the funeral.
“I brought you daisies. I remember you said they’re your favorite. I—” Her voice broke. “I’m so sorry, Margret. I’m so sorry I didn’t save you.” She sucked in several deep breaths. “I looked for you. We tried so hard to find you every single day.” She took the tissue from her pocket, blew her nose, and shoved it back. “This should’ve ended differently. You should be here going out on dates and enjoying high school. You and your mom should be getting ready to be my guests at Fashion Week.” She sniffled again. “I made your blue dress, the one you were going to wear when you came to visit. I’m going to show it off myself when I walk the runway in a couple weeks. Hundreds of people will see your dress, and you and I will know it’s just for you.” She pressed her lips firm as they trembled. “I know it’s not enough—not even close. I know what you did for me, and I’m so grateful.”
The car door slammed in the silence. Abby looked toward the road as Jerrod got out and leaned against the hood in his knit cap and jeans, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I met someone, Margret.” She smiled his way, despite the deep ache. “He’s amazing—the one bright spot in all the bad. He’s so patient and kind.” She looked back at the grave, knowing it was time to go. “I—I have to say goodbye, my sweet, beautiful Margret.” She kissed her fingers and pressed them to Margret’s cheek. “I’ll never forget you. You’ll always be a part of my heart. I love you.”
Standing, she looked at the pretty girl one last time and turned, walking toward Jerrod, meeting him halfway down the path.
He opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace, holding on, resting her head against his chest as he ran his hand down her back.
“You okay?” he murmured.
“No.” She drew back enough to look at him. “I’m sick and sad, and my heart hurts, but this was right. Coming here today, saying what I needed to say.”
He nodded, sliding loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I got a call a couple minutes ago. Lorenzo’s been found guilty.”
She blinked at the sudden shock of news. “What?”
“You did it, Abigail.” He cupped her face in his hands, smiling. “Lorenzo won’t be stepping outside a penitentiary anytime soon.”
“But that was so quick.” She laughed incredulously. “He’s really going to stay in prison?”
“Damn right. It’s looking like life without parole. You more than threw away those keys. The jury deliberated for less than three hours.”
She glanced over her shoulde
r, looking at the black marble. “I’m glad we found out while we’re here. It feels right, sharing this with Margret.”
“I thought so too.”
The wind blew, sending her hair dancing, and Margret’s laughter echoed on the gusty breeze. Smiling, Abby looked at Jerrod, staring into his steady blue eyes. “I’m ready. I’m ready to go home and live my life.”
Kissing her lips, he took her hand, and they started toward the car. “I’m looking forward to sleeping in our own bed tonight.”
“Me too.” She clasped their fingers, grinning, welcoming the first true feelings of peace she’d felt in almost seven months.
Chapter Twenty-six
“Can we have another bite, Auntie Ab?”
Abby stood along the edge of the dance floor among dozens of other guests, pausing with the forkful of dark chocolate cake and buttercream frosting at her lips. She looked down at Livy and Kylee blinking up at her, smiling in their matching flower girl dresses and curls twisted into pretty blond hair. “I just gave you both a bite.”
“It was small.” Livy looked at Kylee, who nodded her agreement.
“Big girls need big bites,” Kylee added, turning up the wattage on her grin.
Abby laughed, glancing toward Olivia and Kylee’s empty plates at the head table, unable to resist. “I guess I can’t argue with you there.” She sampled the taste she still held on her fork, then slivered off more for her niece and her friend. “There. That’s it, my adorable little scavengers.” She tapped both of their noses as Wren and Tucker finished their first dance as husband and wife. “Now go dance yourselves silly.”
The girls clasped hands and ran off laughing.
Chuckling, she turned her attention to the gorgeous bride and groom kissing for the crowd, quieting the latest round of forks tinkling against glass. Sighing, she smiled, happy for her friends. Wren glowed in her strapless, beaded A-line gown, looking very much like a princess with the jeweled clip nestled among the riot of shiny black curls trailing down her back. And Tucker had yet to stop grinning. He’d been smiling since Wren walked down the aisle with Patrick at her side.
She backed up a step, letting a couple pass as she cut herself another bite of cake, gasping as strong arms wrapped around her waist in her off-the-shoulder fitted black dress.
“Got any cake for me?” Jerrod said next to her ear.
Her heart settled and she smiled. “Maybe.” She turned in his embrace, stood on her tiptoes, and planted a kiss on his lips.
He arched his brows. “Maybe?”
“Maybe,” she repeated, biting her lip as she looked him up and down in his black suit and tie. “For a dance.”
He gave her a pained look. “Aw, Abby.”
She struggled not to laugh. “Have you had a piece yet?”
“No. I went to grab a slice and they were gone. Damn phone call,” he muttered.
She scooped up a bite for herself, rolling her eyes on a quiet moan as flavors melded on her tongue. “It’s so good. It kind of reminds me of that dessert we had at Lily’s dinner party.” She forked up more, brought it to his mouth, and as he opened brought it to her own. “Mmm. Did I mention this is delicious?” She grinned as he narrowed his eyes.
“Kylee and Olivia just had to smile and look cute.”
She laughed. “Aw, you’re cute too, big guy.” She scooped up the last huge bite, waving it in front of his face. “But I want to dance. All this can be yours for one measly twirl around the floor.” She batted her lashes.
“A slow dance.”
“A slow dance,” she agreed, bringing the luscious piece to his lips.
He took the bite and groaned. “Good,” he said over the mouthful, and swallowed.
“Yes it was.” She set her plate down on the tray close by.
“I guess a deal’s a deal.” He took her hand, walking with her to the middle of the Campbell’s massive ballroom, pulling her more truly against him.
She locked her hands behind his neck, staring in his eyes as they moved in a slow circle. “See? Not so bad.”
He shook his head. “No, not so bad.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers. “I would’ve danced with you for nothing.”
“I would’ve shared…eventually.”
They smiled at each other.
“Are you having fun?” He asked as his thumbs slid along the waist of her dress.
“Definitely. This place is stunning.” The sheer number of creamy calla lilies and candles decorating the elegant space still amazed her. The Campbell’s Monterey estate was massive—very much a California-style castle. “This is the perfect evening for a wedding.”
“It’s really nice.”
“And I love that all of our friends are here.” She glanced around at Morgan and Hunter also on the dance floor, at Hailey sitting on Austin’s lap while they both rested their hands on her belly. She spotted Sarah sipping water as she, Ethan, Jackson, and Alexa talked to their girls. “Sarah’s pregnant. She told us this afternoon while Wren was getting ready.”
He smiled. “I guess you were right.”
“Of course.” She winked then frowned as she noted the slight hint of worry in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
There was definitely something bothering him. “Are you thinking about the business trip?”
He shrugged.
“It’s only two days in Kentucky, big guy.” She wrapped her arms tighter around him, wanting to put him at ease. “Then you’ll meet me in New York, and we’ll have some fun.”
“I guess I’m not ready to leave you yet.”
She kissed his cheek, wondering if she could possibly love him more. “We’ve been doing okay so far.” For the last week and a half they’d given ‘normal’ their best shot. She’d gone to the Lily Brand offices on her own while he went to work at Ethan Cooke Security. For ten blessed days they’d lived as she’d yearned to for months—eating late-night dinners after he pulled duty or she came in after a meeting, snuggle sessions on the couch in front of the TV, sweaty bouts of sex in their bedroom or wherever else they wanted in their condo before falling deeply asleep without having to worry about who hunted her.
The transition hadn’t been easy for either of them. For several days she hadn’t been able to walk down the street without glancing over her shoulder or break her habit of constantly checking to see that her repaired watch actually worked.
And Jerrod had finally managed to cut back on his welfare calls and texts. As they rolled into their second week of spending their workdays apart, he’d managed to check in once an hour instead of every thirty minutes. “Besides, I always have this.” She gestured to the timepiece still fitted with a transmitter on her wrist. “And I’ll have Stone with me at night and on the flight.” Both their gazes traveled to the dark, sexy man leaning against the wall in the corner, pulling a sip from his beer. “I’m sure he’ll boggle my mind with all kinds of stimulating conversation.”
Jerrod chuckled. “He’s definitely a man of few words, but we’ll both feel better knowing he’s there.”
“Yes we will.” She studied his deep tan, dark brown chin-length hair, and broad shoulders, looking forward to spending time with the enigma that was Stone McCabe. Surely there was more to him than muscles, good looks, and one-word answers. Two evenings at home and an endless plane ride to New York would be just enough time to dissect the inner workings of her temporary bodyguard—maybe. “So, how’s Shane liking Europe? That was him that called?”
“It was. He’s got another month and he’ll be back and ready to roll.”
“I’m glad we’ll be seeing more of him.”
“I have a feeling Ethan will be shipping him off to the Appalachia Project.”
“You’ll have a full report for both of them by Wednesday.”
“Yes, I will.”
The song rolled into the next slow tune, and she hummed along quietly, then sang along. “Rumor has it there might be karaoke later. How about a duet?”
>
“Hell no.”
She laughed, well aware that Jerrod wouldn’t be picking up a microphone any time soon. “I’ll wear you down eventually.
“I don’t think so.”
“You underestimate my power, Mr. Quinn.” She stroked her fingers along the back of his neck. “Someday I’ll get you to sing. We’ll do show tunes right in our own kitchen.”
He looked at her with such horror she tossed her head back on a laugh. “God do I love you.”
He grinned. “I love you too, but show tunes will never, ever happen.” His cell phone rang, and he glanced down at the readout with a frown. “It’s Timmy.”
“Go ahead and answer.”
He pulled the phone free. “Hello? Timmy?” He blocked his other ear with his hand and gestured toward the hallway. “Hold on.”
She nodded, following him toward one of the numerous balconies where the music finally faded.
“Yeah, I can hear you. That’s good. Great. I’m glad she’s doing better.” His eyes widened as they met Abby’s. “What? Are you sure? Wow. I guess congratulations then. Yeah. Yeah. Definitely. Okay. Bye.” He hung up and shook his head as he shoved his phone away.
“What? What is it?”
“Nothing, I guess.”
It was something, and it was big. “Jerrod—”
“Shelby’s coming home from the hospital today.”
She smiled. Shelby certainly wasn’t her favorite person, but it was good to hear she was going to be okay. “That’s great.”
“Yeah.”
“What else?”
He blew out a breath. “They’re moving in together—Timmy and Shelby. Today.”
Her eyes popped as wide as his had. “What?”
He shook his head again. “Apparently things have been changing between them for awhile. Her brush with death gave them both the shove they needed to take the next step.” He shrugged. “She decided she doesn’t want to work in LA anymore. She wants to stay on at the paper in Parker and be with him.”