by Brynne Asher
Which makes it even more devastating to see Abbott withdraw into herself, struggling to understand why people in her life, who are supposed to be a constant, suddenly leave her. Yes, she’s as sharp as a tack, but she is only six. Despite her mother being an imbecile, Abbott loves her. She might have taken to me recently, however I know for a fact she’d prefer her mother in a heartbeat. I’ve become a bit attached so, I can’t lie, that stings.
Now to have Red ripped from her life…
It’s distressing, especially for Cole, who wants to fix everything for everyone. It’s what he does—he solves and he fixes.
Then there’s the issue of condoms. What are they anyway? It seems neither Cole nor I can comprehend those pesky little buggers since I gave into his ideals of living happily ever after and all that jazz.
The man I cut off and wouldn’t allow to help me with anything—let alone the biggest thing—has consumed all of me. I deserve far less than his whole heart he’s given so freely. He might be the cockiest man I’ve ever met, but he’s mine. I suppose one can be arrogant when they always deliver in the end. I’m lucky he’s as persistent as he is bigheaded, otherwise I wouldn’t be here today wondering how I’ve become the woman who spends every waking minute wondering if she’s pregnant.
And I’m unexpectedly okay with it.
Shocking. Damn Cole Carson. He and his cocky-talking ways, making me believe I can have it all.
Since our time in the shower when my sole desire was to be a balm to Cole’s pain, there’s been plenty of sex with no mention of birth control. We spend our nights in the bedroom next to Abbott’s silencing ourselves for the sake of everyone else in the monstrous house. The dark circles under my eyes are proof enough I’m spending far more time wrapped up in Cole than I am sleeping. Thanks to Gracie and the miraculous concealer she bought me, I’m okay with this too.
“What would you like to wear tomorrow, love?”
Abbott and I are snuggled in with one of her new books, taking turns reading, to get her mind off our depressing reality. Addy and Crew are off somewhere in the big house, spending time as a family.
Her dark eyes find mine. “Do I have to wear a dress?”
“I shouldn’t speak for your father but I know him well enough that he only wants you to be comfortable and happy. Your grandpa would want the same. And speaking from one woman to another, never allow anyone to tell you how to look. You wear what you want and what you feel good in.”
“What about that one thing we bought with the big legs?”
“The romper? That would be a lovely choice and you’ll look as beautiful as ever.”
Tomorrow is Red’s funeral. It was pushed back a day to accommodate for security. Cole and I conferred with Crew and his men after Cole arrived home after his surprise meeting with his boss. Red’s service, which has not been announced publicly, will be private and small, and held at the tiny chapel where Cole’s mother was celebrated. We’re doing everything we can to avoid bombs, bullets, and bosses. It took an extra day to make those arrangements. I feel very comfortable with the security in place and Abbott is none the wiser.
“It’s getting late,” I note the time. Addy put Vivi down over an hour ago. “It’s about time for bed.”
She shakes her head. “I want to wait ‘til Daddy gets home.”
Cole went next door to what is now referred to as the control room. He needed to speak to Penn and didn’t want to do it here. “I’ll text him and see how much longer he’ll be.”
I get an immediate response.
Cole – On my way back. Got word of a miracle—Marie Kasey woke up.
My reaction is not cool or collected because Abbott asks, “What? Is he not coming back?”
I brush her hair away from her face. “No, darling, he’s on his way. Run up and brush your teeth, okay? He’ll be up to tuck you in.”
I’m about to text Cole something with a million exclamation marks behind it, but I’m stopped by little arms circling my neck.
A hug.
My first hug from Abbott Carson.
If I thought I was stunned by the news of Marie Kasey waking from a close call with the dark side, this show of affection gives me emotional whiplash I may never recover from.
“I’m sorry I wanted you to leave when you got here,” she whispers into my neck.
I wrap her up tight. “Darling. It’s okay.”
“I like you and I like your funny voice.”
She lets go of my neck and I find it difficult to blink quickly enough to keep my eyes dry. “I like you, as well, Abbott.”
“I don’t want you to leave.”
“I might have to leave for work from time to time, but I will always return. Virginia is growing on me.” I tap her nose with the tip of my finger. “As are you.”
She hops down and scurries off to the three-story grand staircase that is the central hub of this home. She has a lighter pep to her step than she’s had in days.
I’m about to text Cole about Marie, the hug of the century that almost drove me to tears, and that I’ll be spending the next few hours in the control room to catch up on the transcripts from the wiretaps. I don’t get to do any of this because the front door opens and he comes striding through.
I jump up from my chair and meet him in the foyer. I don’t stop, raise up on my toes to press my lips to his, and speak first. “Abbott hugged me.”
He slides a hand down to my ass—typical—and smiles. “She did?”
I nod. “And it was genuine and sweet and she said she doesn’t want me to leave.”
He squeezes. “That’s good since you’re not going anywhere.”
I roll my eyes. “I explained how I might have to leave for work now and again, but I planned to stay.”
His smile grows bigger. “I told you.”
“Yes, yes, you’re omniscient and know all about everything. Now tell me about Marie. I’m not going to be selfish and ask when we can get someone in there to interrogate her. So first, tell me how she is—her health, you know, all that stuff.”
He frowns. “Sweetness, I assume she’s as grumpy and pissed as you were when you woke up in the hospital. Asa’s contact did not report on anything besides the fact she’s awake, alert, and communicating.”
I tip my head. “Communicating? With whom?”
He leans down to kiss me before letting my bum go and strides through the house to the kitchen. “You’re the only person who could turn me on by using the word whom in casual conversation. Our babies are going to be fucking-bloody-brilliant, as you Brits say.”
I have to pick up the pace to follow him. “First of all, don’t mock me by using bloody or brilliant like that. And second, tell me whom Marie is speaking with. And do we know what she’s saying?”
He gets to the kitchen and grabs a banana out of the overflowing fruit bowl before disappearing into the pantry. When he returns, he’s holding a monster jar of Nutella. “She’s talking to DC police. She’s a GSW victim, shot in a crowded area where there are not usually many bullets flying. Asa said they were anxious to know what she remembers.”
My insides turn and I feel as if I might be sick. “If she gives up Randolph, this entire operation will come to a grinding halt, Cole.”
He nods and talks around the hunk of banana and chocolate spread he stuffed in his mouth. “So far, she hasn’t. And Randolph must have his own contacts and know what we know. He’s all of a sudden talkative on the wire. And by talkative, I mean pissed and yelling.”
“Would you quit eating that damn banana for two seconds so I don’t have to wring information out of you? With whom?”
He licks a bit of chocolate off his lip. “There you go again, making me hard.”
“Cole,” I demand.
He takes three steps and invades my space, but he doesn’t answer. He lays a big, wet, chocolate-covered banana kiss on me. It’s deep and intense. Only Cole Carson could kiss me like this and make me wet, and I’m pretty sure my nipples are hard too.
He seals his deep kiss with a smack. “Wendy Sisson. Do you know how good it feels to stack up evidence on my boss and his boss? I cannot fucking wait to waltz into the DOJ with this shit and get their asses thrown in prison. I just need to find the evidence to support what I know because the illegal wiretaps will not fly.”
That is a bit of an issue. “What did they say?”
“That it is happening next week and payment for it has been deposited and if it turned to shit like the hit on Marie did, someone was going to pay. Oh, and if someone comes to the States who he doesn’t want here, that someone is going to get cut. And I don’t think they meant kicked out of the nice-guy club.”
I shake my head. “What in the bloody hell?”
“Exactly. What in the bloody hell.”
My fingers press into his lats. “Why are you in such a chipper mood?”
He reaches down to my bum and picks me up to sit me on the island before stepping between my legs. “Because for the last two days it’s been quieter than crickets and now shit is happening. All we need to do is be ready. And you not only confirmed to me, but also to Abbott, that you’re staying. And Abbs hugged you and she doesn’t warm up to many people. I have no choice but to focus on how full the glass is among all the bad shit.”
I wrap my legs around his muscled arse. “Speaking of, Abbott is waiting for you to tuck her in.”
“That’s why I came home. Tomorrow is going to suck—a black day during a time I was counting on Red getting to know you and you, him. We need to get past tomorrow so we can start a new chapter—the three of us—and figure out what the good life looks like.
I sink into his chest and wrap my arms around his neck. “Go spend some time with Abbott before she goes to sleep. I’m going next door to catch up and study the transcripts.”
With his hands on my bum, he yanks me to him, his cock long and firm in his jeans, pressed tight to my still-wet sex. “I like seeing you work again. Love your brain, baby.”
“You’re just saying that when you really want to fuck me.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, but I still love your brain.”
“Daddy!” Abbott yells from the top of the staircase.
“Coming!” Cole yells and leans in to kiss me. “Go be awesome, sweetness.”
And like him, I smile despite the impending funeral and everything else we’re still waiting to solve.
Chapter 39
Simple Man
Seventeen years ago
Cole
“Not sure you coulda gotten farther away from home unless you went to Alaska or Hawaii.”
I look over at my dad who’s staring out at the Pacific Northwest. He’s right. I might as well be a million miles from home right now.
“It’s only four years.”
And it’s free. I don’t add that out loud because my parents would’ve bent over backwards to pay for school had I not gotten a scholarship.
I didn’t want them to make sacrifices. Did I want to get away from Virginia? Fuck, yes. I started dreaming about it my sophomore year when I put on some muscle and made all-state in baseball as a pitcher. By my senior year, I was top ten overall and heavily recruited.
I worked hard in the gym and on the field. I studied harder. But I had to work the hardest at not getting caught fucking around, doing pretty much everything I shouldn’t’ve been doing. If anyone should give me a scholarship in anything, it’s being covert at getting into shit I should not be getting into. I could skip college and go straight to the pros in the first-round draft.
Instead, I took a baseball and academic scholarship and moved into the dorm. Mom decided I needed about two million more hangers and made a run to Walmart. When Dad turns to me, it’s like looking in the mirror. Same eyes, same hair, same coloring … but everything else? So damn different.
“I want you to promise me something.”
I roll my eyes. “Seriously? You gave me condoms before we left.”
He shakes his head and stares at his feet for two beats before looking up. “Promise you won’t forget where you came from.”
I hike a cocky brow that probably needs to be slapped off my face. “Okay.”
“You’re smart, you’re skilled, and you work hard. I’m proud of you, but do me a favor and deflate that head of yours once a week. It’ll keep you grounded. And it’s worth repeating—don’t forget where you came from.”
“I won’t, Red.” I stuff my hands in my pockets and pull in a big breath. “Promise.”
He rolls his eyes. “Quit calling me Red.”
I shrug. “Whatever, Red.”
Sighing, he moves across the miniscule room and doesn’t stop. He wraps his arms around me as I stand here like a dumbass with my hands in my pockets.
He hugs me. Tight.
Finally, I hug him back.
“And call your mama. She’s sick about leaving you here.”
“I will.”
“And don’t knock anyone up. I’ll drag you out back and beat you myself if you do anything to fuck up your life.”
I nod. I don’t want to fuck up my life, either.
“Love you, boy.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
There aren’t many people here. A majority of them are the ones who have taken time out of their lives to protect Bella, Abbott, and me.
And, for a short time, Red.
Sure, my dad had friends. I’ll probably eat shit later for making this shindig private. But in the end, do I care?
No, I fucking do not.
Abbott is sitting sideways in my lap facing Bella, who’s tucked to my side. Abbott is playing with my tie and has been since we sat down almost an hour ago. She’s rolled and unrolled that sucker a billion times. Around her wrist, her arm, up to my neck, and in and out of her little fingers. I admire her focus, or lack thereof. Either way, she’s committed to ignoring the show going on at the front of the church and I’m not about to make her pay attention. Abbott and Red had a special relationship. She’s old enough … she’ll never forget him. I know it’s not the typical parenting move since I probably rank in the bottom twenty percent of parents when it comes to doing the right thing.
But since Abbott does rank in the top of her class in reading and math and got that from me, I’m counting on my good genes to get her through.
The pastor, who I do not know, starts to wrap things up and my gut twists.
“Well done, Isaac. You loved your family with all your heart. God rest your soul as you’re reunited with the love of your life, Maggie. You raised your son with love.”
Bella’s hand on my thigh tightens.
“And you gave your heart to your little Abbott.”
Abbott presses her face into my neck. Damn. She actually is paying attention. My throat tightens as her tears roll down my skin and disappear into my dress shirt.
I pull Bella in tighter and press my lips to the side of Abbott’s head, fusing us together—fuck the being who tries to separate us.
After another few lines, the few people I’ve allowed to be here respond, “Amen.”
Bella turns, lays a hand on Abbott’s arm, and leans in to give me a kiss, but stops when the sound of guitar chords come over the shitty sound system of the old chapel. She frowns.
One side of my mouth tips and I lean in to take her lips—chastely, because of church and all—as Charlie Daniels starts to sing Simple Man. I stand, taking Abbott with me, holding her to my hip, and grab Bella’s hand. She smiles and shakes her head before standing in the tight-ass black dress that hugs every curve.
I do my thing—thank the pastor and start shaking hands. When I get to Asa, he does not look like he’s in funeral mode. He’s all business.
He hands me his cell and speaks low. “Just got this. The recruits are manning the control room and they’re getting a lot of chatter. You need to see it.”
I take the phone and scroll with Bella reading over my shoulder. When I reach the end, Bella asks, “Have you identified them?
”
Asa shakes his head. “Not yet. Ozzy’s working on it.”
Bella looks at me. “I want to listen. Do you mind?”
“No. You go. I’ll get Abbott settled with Addy and be over.”
She looks to Asa. “Let’s go. I’m ready for this to be done.”
Bella
“They haven’t spoken? It’s only been text?”
“Yep.” Ozzy is spinning whatever magic he creates in the back room of Crew’s compound. More large screens cover old walls and makeshift desks have been set up with plywood on trestles. This was thrown into operation overnight and Addy told me yesterday Crew asked her to shop for more office furniture since no one else has time. “Whoever he’s arguing with has their phone tied down so tight, I can’t break it. They know their shit and are keeping it under wraps, which makes me think it’s no terrorist. At least not an official one.”
I look down and read over the transcripts again that have accumulated over the last day…
Randolph – The drop was made days ago and you’ve done nothing with it.
Unknown – I’ll take care of it when I’m ready. Day job has been busy and my guy hasn’t been able to get to it.
Randolph – I’m paying for a timely service, not for when you can carve time out of your schedule.
Unknown – I’m at the airport. Making a quick trip to the States. Maybe I’ll run into you.
Randolph – I told you to stay the fuck away. We don’t need to be on the same continent right now. I need to keep this operation going through the end of the year when I announce my candidacy. After that, you’re off the payroll.
Unknown – I might be on your payroll but you can’t tell me where I can or cannot travel.
Randolph – It better not have anything to do with me.