by Faith Gibson
Jasper nodded, “It was Theron.”
“Who’s Theron?” one of the badasses asked. Trevor had already forgotten his name.
“Alistair’s son,” Dante responded. From the looks on their faces, that explained it all.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Frey and Kai sparred in the dojo away from the people who were working out. Normally Frey didn’t mind onlookers, but today, he needed to let loose a little. In the privacy of the back room, he could do that. Kai had really good form and control. He was quick, even without his shifter advantage. Frey would definitely feel good about letting the new Goyle lead his classes. Once they were finished, he took another shower before going to pick up Abbi. As he stood under the hot water, an odd feeling ran through his consciousness. He stilled his mind to see if he could pick up on it, but it was gone as quickly as it arrived.
As he was headed out the door, his phone rang. “Geoffrey, it’s Victoria. I wanted to make you aware that the divorce papers were delivered to Quinn’s home about an hour ago. I just received the notification, or I’d have called you earlier.”
“Thank you for calling Victoria. I’ll handle it from here.”
He didn’t waste any time in getting to the school. He pulled out his phone to call Dane and notify him of Troy’s whereabouts when it pinged with a text message from Dante. He called Dante first.
“Dante, is everything okay?”
“Actually, no. Trevor returned early from his trip, and he was followed. It seems the one who is after Jasper is Theron.”
“Your cousin, Theron?”
“Yes, it took me a while to get the information out of Jasper and confirm they are one in the same, but it’s him. Alistair isn’t the only one who holds a grudge against our Clan. It must run in the family.”
“What does he want with Jasper?”
“They have a history together. Jasper wouldn’t elaborate with Trevor in the room. Trevor is clearly shaken and wants nothing to do with Jasper. I have sent Jasper and Matthew back to your house. That’s why I’m calling. Is there anyone else available to stay with Matthew? I’m afraid Jasper’s mind isn’t where it should be at the moment.”
“I’m headed to the school to relieve Lor. I will see if he’s free.”
“I would offer to help, but I have my hands full on this end. I’m calling Rafe so he can alert the others to Theron’s presence.”
“No, I get it. Fuck, Brother. You just got back from dealing with the bullshit, and now it’s come to your front door.”
“Until we cut the head off the snake, I have a feeling we’re all in for more of the same. All we can do is train and remain vigilant. Go protect your mate. I’m going to call mine.”
“Be well, Dante.”
“And you, my brother.” Frey disconnected. He had met Theron centuries ago. When Rafael’s father was slain, his body was taken back to Italy to the family tomb. Frey had accompanied Rafael to the Italian villa while Dante and Gregor remained in the states running the Clan. Alistair and Theron had shown up to allegedly pay their respects to Athena. Knowing there was no love lost between Athena and her brother, Rafael told Alistair the memorial service was a private, family affair and asked them to leave. Frey would never forget the hatred coming from both father and son.
How in the world had Jasper been involved with Theron? It wasn’t really any of his business, but if Theron was after Jasper in any way, Frey wasn’t sure he wanted him hanging around Matthew.
He rolled into the vacant parking space next to Lorenzo and rolled down his window. He asked Lor, “Is everything good here?”
“Yes, nothing out of the ordinary.” Lor asked, “What has happened?” The normal jovial Goyle was very attentive.
Frey explained what little he knew about the situation with Jasper and Trevor. “Speaking of Jasper, he’s not in a good place right now. Can you head over to my house and watch Matthew? I don’t mind Jasper staying so he’ll have company. I just don’t trust that his head is fully in the game right now.”
“No problem. Maybe I’ll take them up in the helo. It will give Matthew a thrill and possibly help get Jasper’s mind off things. That is, if you don’t object.”
“I think it’s an excellent idea. Just be careful of Matt’s ribs. We don’t want to jar anything loose in there.”
“I’ll guard his ribs as well as the rest of him with my life. You have my word.”
“Thank you.” Frey wondered how humans got along without a support system like the Clan. He had watched them over the five centuries he’d been alive, and not once had he seen any of them bond together in such a way. Sure, there were good people like Priscilla and Jonathan who proved their loyalty daily. But for the most part, humans were a selfish bunch.
While he was waiting on Abbi, Frey called Dane, telling him about Troy. If the man’s previous actions were any indication, he was probably plotting his revenge at that very moment.
Abbi’s stomach had been upset all day. She had an old nausea prescription in her purse from when she was pregnant the last time. It had been less than a week since Troy had forced her to have sex without the pill, but her body was behaving like it had the last three times she’d been knocked up. She could hope and pray all she wanted that this wasn’t number four, but she knew better. Knew her body. She was carrying the spawn of Satan in her stomach.
She really shouldn’t think that way. She glanced over at Amelia who was concentrating on a picture she was coloring. The little girl was the product of Troy, and she was an angel. Abbi had no idea how the little girl could be so sweet with her home conditions what they were. If Abbi could, she’d kidnap Amelia and give her a loving home. The first bell rang indicating it was time to pack up and get in line for the bus or parent pick-up. When Amelia continued sitting at her desk, Abbi told her to put her things away.
“Miss Quinn? Can you give me a ride to dancing?”
Abbi shouldn’t be surprised at the question, but she was. “Honey, I can’t just take you with me without permission. Where’s your mom?”
Amelia pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her backpack and brought it to Abbi. It was a note from Debbie saying she had no way of getting Amelia to the community center on time. If Abbi could give her a ride, the neighbor would bring her home. Abbi stared at the handwriting. It looked legitimate, but she was still leery. Something about it felt off. Could it be that Debbie wanted time alone to be with Troy? Now that Abbi had left him, he was probably spending all his time with her.
“Okay, Honey. I’ll take you. Get your stuff together.”
The little girl wrapped her arms around Abbi’s legs before doing as she was told. When all the other kids were where they were supposed to be, Abbi took Amelia by the hand and led her outside to Frey’s truck. When he saw them together, he got out of the truck and came around to help them in.
“Hello, Amelia. How are you?” he asked the girl while giving Abbi a what the hell look.
“I’m fine Mr. uh… I don’t know your name.”
Frey picked her up and placed her in the back seat of the truck, buckling her in. “You can call me Frey.”
“Okay, Mr. Frey,” she said, giggling. “That rhymed.”
“Yes it did,” he said, tickling her side. Abbi stood in awe of this huge man who in one moment, made this little girl’s eyes shine. She knew the feeling. She smiled as she climbed in the front seat. When Frey got in, Abbi laid the note from Debbie on the seat between them. She met his gaze and raised her eyebrows.
He frowned and slid the note back to her. She put it in her purse then reached for his hand. She needed the comfort only he could give her. Amelia sat in the back seat, singing softly to herself. It was some country song Troy played over and over at home. The nausea was building in her throat, and she told Frey to pull over. He barely got to the shoulder before she slung the door open and lost what little was left on her stomach. Frey was there, holding her hair away from her face, rubbing small circles on her back. She was mostly dry h
“Thank you,” she said, taking his offered hand and straightening from the crouched position.
He placed his hand on her forehead but didn’t say anything. When the tears burned the back of her eyes, she didn’t stop them from falling. He pulled her into his arms on the side of the road and held her while she cried. “Shh, Sweetheart. It will be okay, I promise,” he whispered into her hair. When she composed herself, she moved back, and he swiped at her cheeks with his thumbs. “Abbi, I’m here for you. Every step of the way.”
Her heart was torn in two. One half was breaking for the child in the back seat, for her brother who’d endured nothing but pain at the hands of her husband, and the little bean in her belly she had prayed wouldn’t come to be. The other half was rejoicing at the warmth and compassion she received from the man standing in front of her. She reached way down deep in her soul and grabbed on to the good half.
Frey helped her back into the truck, and Amelia asked, “Miss Quinn, are you all right?”
“Yes, Sweet Pea, I just have a stomach bug.” She wished that was all it was.
When they arrived at the community center, Frey turned in his seat to Amelia. “Can you do me a big favor? Can you look around and see if your mommy’s car is in the parking lot?” Amelia unbuckled and searched out her window before scooting to the other side of the truck, making a big show of looking all around.
“She’s not here.”
“Thank you. Come on, let’s get you two ladies in here so you can dance.” Frey helped the little girl out of the back seat, holding her hand while they walked across the parking lot. Abbi committed the sight to memory. Instead of working in the class today, Abbi decided to put the kids on the stage. One, it would help them get a feel for their places in the dance, and two, it was closer to the restroom. She had taken another nausea pill right after throwing up. She hoped it would work its magic long enough for her to get through the next hour.
She took all the kids to the auditorium and placed them where they needed to go. She went over and over the steps with the kids, amazed at how quickly most of them got them right. Abbi removed her cell phone from her back pocket to check the time. They were about halfway through the class when the lights flashed off and back on. The kids squealed when the lights went out then giggled when they came back on. That happened two more times, about five minutes apart. Abbi knew Frey was somewhere close by, watching. She could somehow feel his presence. That tether she’d noticed the first time they were alone in her dance class had only gotten stronger. She clapped her hands, getting the children’s attention when the fire alarm sounded.
The mothers who were watching jumped up from their seats, and Abbi directed the kids their way. “Stay in a straight line and stay with Bethany’s mom!” She counted heads as the kids marched by, and she knew instantly who was missing. “Where’s Amelia?” she asked the last few kids. Bethany said, “She went to the bathroom.”
Abbi had a really bad feeling about what was going on. She had promised Frey she wouldn’t go anywhere alone, but she couldn’t leave the child in the building when the fire alarm was blaring. She ran down the side of the stage and out the door that led to the hallway. When she reached the bathroom, she opened the door, and her face was covered with a rag. The cloth had been doused in noxious smelling liquid. Abbi fought with all her might. Her training with Frey flashed through her mind briefly, but it was no use. She was fading fast.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Fuck, Abbi! Where was she? Frey asked the mothers if they’d seen her, but they were too intent on getting the children safely outside. He looked around for Amelia and finally saw her coming out of the building, alone. He ran to her and knelt down, “Hey, Little One, have you seen Miss Quinn?”
The little girl’s eyes were wild. She was crying and nodding. “She went to the bathroom,” she said on a hiccup.
“Why are you crying? Has something happened to Miss Quinn?” He knew that answer before it left her quivering mouth.
“He took her,” she whispered. “He said if I didn’t do what he told me to, he’d kill my momma.”
Frey could not believe the levels this bastard would sink to. He lifted Amelia into his arms. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Dane. “He’s got Abbi. I need an APB on Debbie Cranston’s car. I’m not sure that’s what he’s driving, but recent events make me believe he is.” He didn’t say goodbye before hanging up. He called Lorenzo next.
“Where are you?”
“Getting ready to put the bird in the sky, why?”
“The bastard has Abbi.” Amelia’s little body started shaking in his arms as her sobs became louder. “I need to you come to the community center. Dane is putting an APB out for the possible vehicle she is in. I have no idea where he’d take her, but I’m hoping Sixx can get a lock on her cell phone.”
“Ten-four. We’ll be there in fifteen,” Lorenzo said. He was barking orders to Jasper and Matthew before the line went dead. Shit, Matthew. He didn’t need to be here for this in case it went sideways. No! Nothing was going to happen to Abbi. Frey would die before he let anything happen to his mate.
As firetrucks and police vehicles arrived in the parking lot, one of the mothers walked up to Frey with a frown on her face. “Who are you exactly?” She was looking between him and Amelia. He appreciated the fact someone had the kid’s best interest at heart.
“My name is Geoffrey Hartley, and I’m a friend of Abbi’s. Can you please take Amelia while I speak to the police?” He handed the crying little girl over to the woman who tried to calm her down. He dialed Sixx and had him try to locate Abbi’s phone. Unless she had powered it off, he would find her. He had to find her.
Frey was relaying what happened to one of the officers when Dane arrived. “I’ll take it from here, Grady,” he told the cop. Frey didn’t miss the look the older man gave Dane.
“What was that about?”
“He has a chip on his shoulder. Now, tell me what happened.”
Frey told Dane everything from the note Amelia gave Abbi to the fire alarm. He kept his eyes on Grady who sent a text to someone. Afterwards, he didn’t stick around the crime scene. He got in his cruiser and headed toward the back of the building. “Where’s he going?” Frey asked Dane, pointing at the car.
“Who knows with him, probably going to take a piss.” Dane directed the other officers to stay with the women and children while the firemen checked the building. When they got the all clear, everyone made their way back inside to wait for the parents to pick up their children. The woman who was holding Amelia walked toward Frey and Dane. “She keeps asking for you,” she said to Frey. Amelia held her arms out, and Frey immediately took her.
The little girl wrapped her arms around his neck, muttering, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Over and over.
Frey hugged her tight and whispered into her hair as he stroked it, “It’s not your fault, Little One. We will get Miss Quinn back, I promise.” He prayed to all that was holy he could keep that promise. The sound of helicopter blades registered in Frey’s ears. Lorenzo would be there soon, and Frey still had no idea where Abbi had been taken. He called Sixx back and lit a fire under his ass.
Abbi came to, another rank smell infiltrating her nostrils. This was ammonia. She blinked her eyes and came face to face with a monster. Her husband slapped her so hard her head jerked over her shoulder. “You stupid fucking bitch.” Since she was tied to a chair, she couldn’t raise her arm to block his hand. The next strike was with his fist. Same cheek, only harder. “Did you honestly believe you could get away from me?” This time it was a punch to her stomach. Abbi wished she hadn’t taken a pill. She’d love to throw up all over her hus… no, not her husband. The man standing before her was someone different. Someone pure evil. Any shred of humanity that was in Troy Quinn had left the building.
Troy paced the floor, his hands sliding through his dark hair, making it stand on end. A low moan brought Abbi’s attention to the other side of the room. In a corner, Debbie was in the fetal position. From this angle, it looked as though her face was badly beaten. Abbi knew how that felt. Her cheek was throbbing. “Shut up. Shut the fuck up!” he yelled as he kicked the other woman with the toe of his boots. Abbi knew from experience they were steel-toed. Debbie reached out, grabbing his pants leg, muttering, “Amelia. Your daughter… Amelia…is…your…daughter.” Troy rared back and kicked Debbie in the head. No sound came from the woman again.
“Abigail, my beautiful Abigail. What am I going to do with you? Look what you made me do. All you had to do was love me and give me babies. Even that whore could give me what I asked for.” Troy pointed to the lifeless body in the corner. “But I didn’t want her fucking kid. I wanted yours. I wanted you to give me a baby. That’s all I asked for, wasn’t it, Abigail?” He spit her name. She closed her eyes and willed the wetness on her cheek to dry. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
“I asked you a fucking question!” He grabbed her long hair and yanked her head back, so she had no choice but to look up. His face was a mask of hatred, the likes she’d never seen before. “Why could you not give me a goddamn baby?” he yelled.
“Because I fucking hate you,” she seethed. “I pity any child that has you for a father.” He released her hair and caught her on the left cheek with a fist. That one had her seeing stars. At least the bruises wouldn’t be one-sided. Abbi had been through the pain before, but nothing like this. She shouldn’t poke the bear, because this time she was pretty sure he wouldn’t stop before he killed her. She thought about it: dying. If she had to go, now was a good time. Matthew had found a father figure in Frey, and he would be okay. Frey would find a beautiful woman without baggage to give his heart to. After all, he’d only known her a week.
-->