Freight Trained

by Sarah Curtis

  She used her momentary affliction as an excuse to flee to the safety of the bathroom, needing to leave Cole's presence. The urge to touch him, any part of him, just to make a connection was more than she could bear when she knew she no longer had that right.

  After a check to make sure the bathroom was empty, she let the tears she'd been holding back, fall. Knowing Cole was just a mile down the road had been hard for her but being in the same room with him, pretending like they never were, was torture. She only hoped her feelings for him lessened over time or fear of running into him in town would turn her into more a hermit than she'd been back in L.A.

  She looked at herself in the mirror. She was a fright, and she was slightly embarrassed Cole had seen her in such a condition. Her hair hadn't seen a brush since she'd last took a shower two days ago when she'd gotten home from the hospital. The bun, she'd then put it in, was now listing precariously to the right pulling the hair on the left side of her head taut, while leaving a poof of excess hair on the right. Dark purple smudges, the exact shade of the bruises around her neck, graced the puffy skin under her eyes, attesting to her sleepless nights on the couch. Her skin was pale, lacking its usual rosy glow, and she now knew why her mother thought she needed a little time in the sunshine. She wiped at her tears then pinched at her cheeks, hoping to add a little color.

  She'd just turned on the faucet, letting the cool water play over her fingers when the bathroom door opened. She expected it to be her mother and was surprised to see Sissy. She turned off the water and pulled a paper towel from the dispenser, giving Sissy her back.

  The tap of shoes marked Sissy's progress across the tile floor. The noise echoed throughout the room until all became quiet save the crinkling of the paper towel as she dried her hands. Abby looked in the mirror to find Sissy standing about a foot behind her.

  "Abby."

  She liked Sissy, she was sweet and knew she meant well, but Abby wasn't in the mood to listen to anything she had to say about Cole. She tossed the towel in the trash and turned to tell her as much, but Sissy took hold of her hand before she could speak and with its warmth, surrounding the iciness of Abby's fingers and the kindness she saw in her eyes, the words she'd prepared to speak got lodged in her throat.

  As if sensing she wouldn't hold Abby's attention for long, she didn't beat around the bush but cut straight to the chase. "Please just give him some time to see the error of his ways. He's a typical man, making stupid decisions and messing things up, but I know he loves you, Abby, and if you just give him a little time to sort through all the baggage he's got floating around in his head, I know he'll come around."

  "And what if he doesn't? What if his stubbornness doesn't allow him to see what the right thing is? I'm willing to wait for him, forever if I have to, if I knew eventually he would come back to me, but at what point do I finally give up and allow my own heart to heal? A month, a year, ten years?"

  "You know, when Cole called and told me what happened to you and subsequently what he had done, I pulled Becky from school and rushed down here, thinking he would need a friend to talk to. I figured I'd stay a few days."

  Abby was plagued by another surge of jealousy only this time, her crazy brain tried to twist what she knew he felt for Sissy into something more. Maybe having her in his house, would spark something between them that they'd never felt before. The thought was as depressing as the idea of being unable to prevent it.

  Pulling her hand from Sissy's grasp, she walked to the sink, resting her butt against it while folding her arms across her chest and looking down at her feet.

  "But I've changed my mind. Think I'll head back home today."

  Abby's head whipped up. "What. Why?"

  "I like the idea of Cole, roaming around that big ol' house of his all by his lonesome with nothing but his own somber thoughts to keep him company. Might be the kick in the pants he actually needs."

  Abby shook her head. "I don't know, he sounded pretty determined when he ended things, and he could barely look at me out there," she said, with a wave at the bathroom door.

  "That's because he's hurting. Trust me, I've known Cole a long time. He's never been in love before and doesn't know what to do with that." Sissy took the few steps that separated them and took Abby's hand again. "Like I said, just give him a little time to sort his shit."

  Abby snorted a small laugh, her lips forming their first smile in days at hearing Sissy swear. "Okay."

  Sissy gave her hand a squeeze. "Good."

  Abby watched her walk to the bathroom door and open it. "Oh, and one more thing," she said, looking over her shoulder. "Cole left, so you don't need to hide in here anymore."

  Abby washed her hands one more time before going out to look for her parents. Feeling a little optimistic after her talk with Sissy, she realized she was hungry for the first time in days and craving a big slice of chocolate cream pie.

  Abby huddled on the fluffy cushions of her porch swing shaded protectively from the blazing sun that shone down from a cloudless sky. Today was not a good day, and she'd come out hoping the sunshine would lift the dark cloud of depression she had hanging over her head.

  She'd found, though she'd been relieved when her parents had left on Wednesday—happy to end her mother's constant nagging and her father's stern looks—that now, alone with her thoughts, she actually missed their presence. Lately, she was not a fun person to be around and quite frankly, she was sick of her own company.

  She knew she needed to get her life back on track. She would start back at school on Monday and as it was Friday, there were things to do to get ready, but she couldn't seem to muster the energy to do any of it. Her heartache was all encompassing, dragging at her body and spirit.

  She hadn't seen Cole since their encounter at the diner, not even a glimpse of his truck driving by, and she wondered what he was doing right now. Was he missing her as much as she was missing him? She felt a burst of anger, grateful for the fiery rage that rushed through her veins, reminding her she was still alive. Pissed he could so easily give up on them. Pissed he would desert her after the trauma she'd endured. But no matter the amount of anger she had for Cole, she was pissed at herself that much more, for still wanting him, regardless.

  She wished she could go back in time to that one day—the day she'd made her final decision to give in to Cole—and change her fate. She'd tell herself not to get involved, warn herself away so she wouldn't now be mourning the joy she'd found in his embrace. She remembered debating with herself on that fateful day, wondering if it were better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. She hadn't known the answer then, but she did now, and her choice would be never to love. Loving hurt too much.

  "Abby?"

  She jumped, surprised to find Sheriff Brody at the bottom of the porch steps. She looked behind him and saw his cruiser parked in front of her driveway. She gave him a small smile. "Wow, I didn't even hear you pull up. I must have really been lost in thought."

  "I didn't mean to startle you." He walked the few steps up to her porch. "Mind if I sit?"

  Abby waved her hand to the vacant spot on the swing.

  He gingerly sat, close to the edge, feet planted firmly on the floor, elbows on his knees. Taking off his hat, he twirled it between his legs, taking a moment to really look at her before he asked, "How you doing, Abby?"

  She knew what he was asking, checking on her sanity after being abducted by a crazy psycho. In that regard, she was fine. And she really was. Abandoned by the love of her life, and having her heart broken left no room for any other emotions. Cole filled her every thought. But she couldn't tell that to Sam so instead said, "I'm good. No nightmares even though the psychologist at the hospital told me they would be normal." She shrugged, "Maybe I just have
n't completely processed everything yet."

  And there was a lot to process. Chad Daniels had been a very unstable man. After a raid on his house and a thorough background check, authorities discovered, ten years ago, Chad's wife of two years had been abducted and killed by the same kind of monster Chad had become.

  A photo of Chad's late wife, Celine, revealed an uncanny resemblance to both Abby and Rachel proving their abductions hadn't been random but the result of a sadly twisted man trying to recapture the love of his life. Abby hated to admit it, but she could, in the state of her upset over Cole, understand and even sympathize with Chad. Not that she could ever condone the taking of innocent lives, but understood the power love could have to twist and warp the brain into thinking what it wanted. He wasn't evil, just sick, which made her part in his death that much harder to think about, knowing he may have gotten better with some professional help.

  She knew in her heart, she'd done the only thing she could to survive. His fingers around her neck had meant business, and she knew he had every intention of ending her life. Her actions had been justified. She kept telling herself that, and she truly did believe it, most of the time.

  He nodded, looking down at his hat as he spun it with his fingers.

  Abby leaned forward, placing a hand on his arm. "How are you doing?"

  Two days ago, deputies discovered a body buried in a shallow grave behind Chad's cabin. A gold locket around its neck identified it as Rachel Brody, Sam's daughter.

  "I'll be okay. It's finally good to know what happened. Lay her to rest beside her mother."

  Closure. Good for the soul. So why were more shadows swimming in the sheriff's copper eyes than before?

  "Yeah, that's got to give you some peace."

  "We'll see." With a sigh, he stood, holding the swing in place so it wouldn't move then put his hat back on his head. "You take care, Abby. Be sure to call if you need anything."

  "I will, Sheriff, thank you." She watched him drive off.

  When his car was no longer in sight, she got up, walked into the house, and plopped on the couch, hoping a nap might give her some much needed energy. She wrapped herself tightly in the sheet—too afraid to sleep in her room so the couch was still her bed—turning herself into a cocoon. Closing her eyes, she drifted off into dreams where she could no longer feel the pain.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A loud banging on her front door woke Abby out of a deep sleep. She was disorientated not knowing what time or even what day it was. Panicking when she couldn't move her arms, she jerked about until she fell off the couch in a heap of tangled sheets, landing solidly on the floor, striking her head on the coffee table. She literally saw stars. She rubbed at the spot fully expecting to discover blood on her fingers, pleasantly surprised when they came away clean.

  The banging grew louder and more forceful. Light shone through all the windows, so knew she hadn't been asleep too long. She got to her feet, untangling herself from the rest of the sheet and tossing it back on the couch.

  She wrenched at the doorknob, pulling the door open swiftly, shocked to find Cole standing before her, fist stopped mid-pound a few inches from her security screen. Her whole body froze. Their gazes locked. The world stood still.

  She didn't know how long they stood there, taking each other in. Long enough for her to take in every detail and commit it to memory. The way the soft breeze caressed his hair like an invisible lover's fingers. The definition of his cheekbones and his strong, firm jaw covered by a few days worth of beard. His long, straight nose over a mouth that looked firm and unyielding but knew had soft lips that did indescribably wonderful things to her body.

  But it was his eyes that, as usual, held her attention, only this time for a different reason. They were still their amazing shade of green with its darker band around, except now they were filled with sadness. The once vibrant white, surrounding those beautiful orbs now red, attesting to a bone-weary tiredness the eyes could never hide. Gone was the fierce, determined hardness that had enthralled her so and in its place was a sorrow so deep, she felt it in her soul.

  She must have made a noise—a soft moan or maybe a groan—because she felt the vibration in her throat, but her heart beat so loudly in her ears, she didn't hear the sound.

  His eyes narrowed slightly into slits, his chest rising and falling a bit faster as if his breathing had picked up speed. The fist that was raised, opened flat, his palm pressing against the metal grate of the screen door.

  He was the first to speak, his voice low and gruff as if he hadn't used it in a while. "You gonna let me in, Little Mouse?"

  Her arm had a mind of its own as it reached out toward the door, her treacherous fingers flicking the lock. He had the door opened and had stepped through before her brain had a chance to inform her, letting him in was a very bad idea.

  His eyes did a sweep of her, head to toe then back again before settling on her face. She knew she was a mess, it had been a rough week, and he'd woken her from a deep sleep. Her hands flew to her hair to gauge its condition, but his one whispered word stilled her actions.

  "Don't."

  She slowly lowered her arms, and she saw a bit of his fierceness return to his eyes.

  "You're beautiful. In any condition, you're always perfect."

  The sensible part of her brain, starting to catch up, prompted her to ask, "What are you doing here?"

  He tried to take a step closer, but the rational part of her brain, now fully caught up, had her placing her hand on his chest, stopping him. He covered her hand with his own, pressing it against his heart. "I couldn't stay away any longer. I had to see you, touch you," his head dipped, his nose within inches of her cheek, "smell you."

  She took a step back, her arm stretched to its length, creating more distance between them. "You can't..." her voice cracked. "You can't do this. My heart can't take it." She attempted to put a firmness in her tone she didn't feel. "You need to leave."

  He shook his head. "Not until I say everything I have to say."

  She opened her mouth to speak, but he placed a finger over her lips. "And then if you still want me to go, I will. But I can promise you, I will be back tomorrow and the next day and the next to plead my case."

  She sighed, figuring it best to let him get it all out now, knowing how stubborn he could be, and then he could go. "Fine."

  He directed her to the sofa. Noticing the linens, his brow furrowed. "Have you been sleeping on the couch?"

  They sat, somewhat facing each other, close enough for their knees to touch, Cole's hands gripping hers. Abby absently looked toward her bedroom door. "Yeah, I haven't gotten around to changing the bedsheets since my parents left." That was a lie. She felt safer sleeping close to the front door.

  It didn't look as if he believed her, but he let it slide and for that she was grateful. She didn't have the emotional strength to deal with Cole and the events of last week. One upset at a time was all she could endure.

  "You know I'm not very good with words, so I'm probably going to fuck this up but please bear with me and hear me out 'til the end." He looked down at their joined hands. "I was wrong–" At her quick intake of breath, he looked up. "I was wrong to leave you. Especially while you were still in the hospital after living through what you did." He looked at her neck, the bruises mostly faded but still visible then dropped his eyes to their joined hands again. "I'll never forgive myself for that." He looked back up, his eyes blazing into hers. "But I'm asking for your forgiveness. No, I'm begging for your forgiveness.

  "This past week, I've missed you so damn much." His grip on her hand grew too tight, but she didn't complain. Couldn't complain so long as he was touching her. "My house is empty without you in it, but I see
you everywhere. Hear your laughter and sexy-as-fuck voice. I wouldn't let the cleaning service change the sheets because I wanted your scent to surround me while I slept.

  "I've done a lot of thinking. Sissy said some things to me, and it helped me realize Marco's death wasn't really my fault. That got me thinking about the fire and what you'd said to me. I wasn't ready to listen then, but I replayed your words and finally heard them. I don't know had I been there, I could have changed things, no one could know something like that, but I do know I can't let it keep eating me up inside. I realized it was just really bad luck I lost the people I loved, but losing you, that had nothing to do with bad luck. That was my own damn fault. And it was something I could actually change.

  "I'm ready to take a chance that someone upstairs thinks I've had enough bad luck. I'm ready to not live in fear, waiting for the next bad thing to happen. Ready to live life one day at a time and enjoy each day as they come. And I'd really like to enjoy each of those days with you.

  "I love you, Abby. I know I've said that before then let you down. I know words are useless without actions to back them up but if you let me, I'd like to prove it to you every damn day for the rest of our lives. Tell me you'll let me do that."

  * * * * *

  It was a defining moment. His future happiness, riding on her response. He was surprised at how nervous he felt and realized only his little mouse could reduce him to such a level of insecurity.

  Her silence became a living creature in the room, beating at his chest. Each second that ticked away he could feel his chance for forgiveness lessening. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't lose her. She was his whole world.

  He knew he'd fucked up. Knew he didn't deserve a second chance, but he wasn't lying, he would do anything to win her back. He couldn't live without her. He'd shown her his heart, now it was time to show her his soul.

  Falling to his knees at her feet, still gripping her hands, he looked up at her. Staring into her beautiful, blue eyes now brimming with tears, his eyes pleaded with her, begged her to see what he couldn't find the words to tell—his depth of feelings for her.