Open Wounds: Abel and Hope: Love Against the Odds

by Inger Iversen

  He took a knee in front of the man. “Who sent you after Hope?” His gut churned and his fist readied itself to pound into Edwin’s face if he even thought to lie. Edwin’s bottom lip lay shredded, one eye swollen shut, and the other well on its way.

  Blood and spit fell from his lips as he spoke. “Don’t kill me.” He flinched when Gator aimed the deadly blade at him. “I-I’ll t-tell ya.”

  Gator handed the blade to Abel. He took the heavy steel in hand. “Now’s the time for talkin’, my man.” Gator ambled behind Edwin’s chair and placed both hands on his shoulders. He rubbed, as if to be soothing, but the pain on Edwin’s face revealed otherwise. “No more bargaining or pleading.” Leaning in, Gator stated, “Your fate is set.” He emphasized his words with a hard punch to the back of his head. “And before you get all if I’m gonna die, I’ll die in silence, I can promise you death can come in many ways, and yours won’t be swift. You came onto Black Renegades’ land and tried to take one of our women.” His voice lowered and his next words had Abel gripping the blade tighter in his palm. “When my men found you, you were half-naked, and so was the chick. And I know for a fact she didn’t come to you willingly.” Gator squeezed Edwin’s shoulders tight and laughter fell from his lips. “Boy, that alone was gonna cost you your dick.”

  Abel listened as Edwin begged and pleaded, blood-tinged slobber dripping from his lips. Abel didn’t care about his initial plan; his need for proof on Mark was superseded by his desire to cut the dick off the man before him. He hadn’t saved Hope from Mark, but he would save her from another.

  Lifting the blade, Abel placed the sharp tip on Edwin’s thigh. “Talk, or it won’t be the easy death he’s promising you.” He slammed his hand down, controlling the downswing enough to wedge the blade halfway into his fleshy thigh. The scream the pain brought from Edwin’s lips reverberated in his skull, and Abel enjoyed it.

  Had he made Hope scream? Had he made her sob and cry the way this fuckwit was currently doing? Abel prayed not.

  “Her husband sent me to get her!” He paused long enough to puke and Abel had to jump backward to avoid the spray. “B-but then he ch-changed his mind.”

  Abel reared back. What the fuck did he mean changed his mind?

  “Changed his mind?” This was from Gator, who sounded genuinely confused. “Then why the fuck are you still here, you monkey motherfucker? You could have saved yourself a whole lotta trouble by just going home.” He slapped his thigh and whooped. The men standing around the room laughed as well, shaking their heads.

  Edwin might have been safe from the MC, but he would have never been safe from Abel’s reach.

  “If he changed his mind, why the hell are you still here?” Abel asked the question again, but Edwin continued his silence. However, he already knew the answer. With Edwin’s past record, he’d most likely wanted to take Hope for himself, hence the way Gator’s men had found them.

  Through gritted teeth and red-tinged haze, Abel asked, “Did you rape her?” He lifted the hand gripping the handle of the knife. The subtle movement of the blade in his flesh caused Edwin to flinch, then scream. Swollen eyes flitted to Gator, then to a man at the back of the room. Abel followed his eyes to the large man wearing a White Snake T-shirt and tight leather pants. He stepped forward; a sneer lay across his lips and his hand at his gun.

  “I didn’t, I swear,” Edwin cried out as the man stepped forward.

  “Not that he didn’t try.” His Irish accent mangled a few of the words, but Abel got the gist of it.

  Slowly, he turned back to Edwin, who simpered and cowered in his chair. “I may not have found you, I may not have stopped you from raping my woman, but I will more than make up for that now.”

  Pulling the blade from Edwin’s skin, Abel smiled at the sound of his screams.

  16

  Hope

  Hope listened as the woman named Trixie, formally known as Beatrix from Coon Rapids, Minnesota, pulled out another picture of her pink-cheeked, redheaded daughter. “This is her with her new daddy.” She shuffled through the photos until she found one of the baby girl on her own. Red hair filled the photo, as a toothless baby smiled for the camera.

  Trixie had been sitting with Hope for the past three hours, while she waited for Abel to come and get her. Tears had filled her eyes when Spooky appeared on the other side of the door, along with some other men from the MC. She’d recognized a few from the clinic. His gaze had met hers and she knew then that shit was going to be all right.

  Honestly, she’d wanted to save herself, and had come up with a pretty good plan the second he’d spread her legs. She would have fought long and hard, because no man was ever going to take the choice away from her again. As it turned out, the Blackwater Renegades were in the business of collecting favors, so they had rescued her for leverage. This angered Hope on Abel’s behalf, but she couldn’t help the relief she felt for being under their protection until she got back to her man.

  Mentally shaking herself, Hope forced her brain to pay attention to Trixie. “What did you say her name was again?”

  She stopped speaking and eyed Hope dubiously. “Are you not listening to me?”

  “My God, Trixie.” A blonde from the other side of the small room groaned. She lowered the book she’d been reading. “She’s waiting to see her man, she is not interested in your damned kid.”

  Trixie dropped her photos on the table, casting a glare at the woman. “Huni, nobody asked you.”

  But Huni was right; Hope just didn’t have the energy to tell her. She closed her eyes again, letting fatigue take over. Then the door opened, and Hope stood so fast her head grew dizzy. Reaching out, she grabbed the wall to steady herself. “Where is he?”

  Spooky entered the room. “He’s waiting for ya in Doc’s office.” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. In his hand was a bottle of water and a small bottle of pills. Hope limped over to the door, her leg still giving her trouble. Spooky’s big body hovered in the doorway, an unmovable wall.

  Familiar with Spooky—as he had been the one who’d wrapped her in his T-shirt, carried her from the hotel room, and drove her to safety on his bike—Hope placed a hand over his chest and pushed, hoping to guide him out of her way.

  Spooky didn’t budge. His eyes softened as he gazed down at her. “Acushla, stop it.” The words held no heat. With his free hand, he tenderly took her arm and pushed her back. Without releasing her, he lifted his other hand and shook the bottle’s contents into her open palm. “Doc said not to let you leave without these.”

  Giving the pain killers a cursory glance, she nodded. “Sure, okay.” Once he’d given her the bottle, along with the water, he allowed her into the hall. She limped a few feet before turning to face him. “Let’s go.” He walked behind her, his stride slow and steady.

  A hand gently clamped over her shoulder when they arrived at the door where she’d earlier seen the woman they called Doc. Hope looked over her shoulder and up to Spooky. He was turning to leave, but she reached out and grabbed the edge of his leather cut. He glanced down at her hand, before his eyes met hers in question.

  “Thank you for helping me.” Smiling, she released him.

  His lips lifted in a grin. “If you ever need me again, Acushla—” He stopped talking and went stoic as the door opened behind her. Hope whirled around to find Abel standing there. Tears of joy sprang to her eyes and she launched herself into his arms.

  “Are you okay?” His familiar, husky voice sounded like music to her ears.

  Hope held him tighter, even though her arms began to ache and her legs trembled. As the shock of the night wore off, all her aches and pains slowly crept to the surface.

  Abel pulled back, giving her a once over. “Where the fuck are your clothes, baby?”

  She glanced down at her bare legs. “Edwin took them.” Yanking on the bottom of the shirt she was currently wearing, she tried for modesty and failed miserably. “Spooky gave me this.”

  Abel threaded his fingers t
hrough her hair and pulled her lips to meet his. The kiss was slow and soft, revealing more of his relief than passion. A throat cleared behind them and Hope pulled away to see Gator in Doc’s office, eyeing them from the windowsill he was perched on.

  “Don’t hold back on my account. I like to watch.” His lip lifted in a wicked smile, and he actually palmed his cock. Hope’s cheeks heated.

  Grabbing her hand, Abel pulled her into the room. “When Gator is done touching himself, we have some shit to show you.” When she refused to budge, Abel placed a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed. “Come on, baby. His bark is worse than his bite.”

  Gator seemed plenty amused by Abel’s words, and Hope knew that was a damned lie. The man had shaved his teeth to look like sharp fangs, and his body was double the size of Abel’s. And then there were the knife wounds and scars decorating the man’s bare chest, or the deviant smile that promised death and pain to those who looked at him wrong.

  Still, her faith in Abel had her walking into the room. She leaned over the desk, looking at the photos spread out. Some were of her in her old apartment, and others were of her and Abel during their comings and goings.

  She lifted a cell phone in an evidence bag. “What is all of this?” she asked, as some items were familiar, while others weren’t.

  Abel spoke first. “It’s Edwin’s personal effects. Gator and his men removed them from his place after they found you.” Abel pulled the phone from her hand, typed in a code, and handed it back to her. “Check out the messages.”

  Hope scrolled through and read a couple.

  Incoming: When you get to Kentucky, call me and don’t fuck this up.

  She moved to the next one.

  Outgoing: Found your wife. Keeping an eye on her for a few days before the snatch and grab. I’ll report back.

  This was Edwin’s phone and the number on the other end was Mark’s. “Okay, but none of these have my name.”

  Gator hopped down from the window and sauntered over. “The pics, your items he had . . .” He pointed to some jewelry and clothing. “The next box he was going to place on your doorstep, and the fact your lover over there beat him within an inch of his life.” Hope’s eyes widened with his words and Gator’s eye brightened. “Oh yeah. Ol’ Abel here has a mean uppercut. But anyway, y’all have the proof he was after. Including money transfers and shit.”

  “Okay, so now what? We turn it all over to the police and have him arrested?” The prospect of freedom made her heart soar.

  “No.” The word from Gator’s mouth had her dreams crashing down and bursting into soul-searing flames.

  Hope glanced to Abel. Surely, he would want to have this nightmare go away. He’d get to see her as more than a client needing protection and more as the woman he wanted in his life. At least, that’s what she thought he’d see. Instead, when his eyes met hers, she knew he agreed with Gator.

  “I don’t understand.” She dropped the phone on the table. “What’s the plan then, if not to have him put in jail?” And get my damned life back.

  Gator’s barking laughter grated her nerves. The loud sound echoed of the walls. “Men like that don’t go to jail, honey.”

  She winced. Mark had said something to that effect when he’d first beat her, and she’d threatened to call the cops. It wasn’t just that his father was a cop, but also that he was a rich white man with an Ivy League degree, while she was some foreign chick from an Asian country—as he put it. He’d told her that everyone would think she was the typical trophy wife, aiming to make a buck on her back.

  Abel shook his head at Gator’s words. “Men like Mark need the fear of God placed in them, because their whole life they have been taught that they are above the law, and lowlifes such as ourselves are toys to be played with.” He spoke as if this were something he’d come to know on a personal level.

  Hope padded her way over to him and took his hand in hers. “So, then what do we do? Because I can’t live like this anymore.” Losing the battle against her tears, she lifted a hand to her cheek and wiped. “I keep saying this’ll be the last time I run, but this is the first time I have ever had hope I could nail a bastard who’d wronged me.” She gestured to the evidence on the table.

  “I think the best thing to do is take this shit to Mark’s ass and show him what the fuck he is dealing with now.” Gator pushed up from his crouching position. “And the best damned person to shove it up there is you.” He lifted his big paw and pointed to her.

  Hope cocked a brow. “Me?”

  “We made a plan—” Gator started.

  “I made a plan,” Abel cut in, “and it starts with getting you home, and cleaned up.” He tugged her toward the door.

  Hope limped along behind him, but stopped when the door was opened from the other side. Doc, the dark-skinned doctor, entered the room with a stern expression on her face as she eyed the pill bottle in Hope’s hand. Hope knew that look all too well, as she’d doled it out to her own hardheaded patients. She placed a hand on her hip and glared at Gator, who glared right back at her, a sly grin on his face.

  Doc nodded toward the bottle. “You gonna take those pain meds?” Though her dark eyes looked hard as diamonds, her voice softened as she spoke.

  Abel released Hope’s hand and took the pill bottle. “You hurting?”

  She nodded, unwilling to brave the aches if she didn’t have to. He opened the pill bottle and poured two into his hand. “I only need one,” Hope intoned.

  “What is this shit?” Abel asked, eyeing the pills warily. Of course, Hope wouldn’t take them if she hadn’t asked for them earlier. On top of that, she knew the brand for its oblong shape and yellow color.

  “It’ll help with the swelling in her leg, along with anywhere else.” Doc opened the bag she carried and pulled out a shirt and a pair of yoga pants. “Get out,” she barked at Gator, who watched her every move. Hope watched in amusement as Doc picked up a newspaper and shooed the mammoth man out of the room like a naughty pup.

  Once the door snicked shut behind him, she held out the clothes toward Hope. “These clothes are for you.” She handed them over, though her eyes were riveted on the items on the table. Hope pulled the clothes from her hands. “I know you are a nurse, but that doesn’t mean you get to ignore my instructions.” Doc’s lips fell in a grim line and she crossed her arms over her chest like an annoyed parent. “The cuts can get infected, which I am sure you are aware of. And there is obvious trauma to the soft tissue in your foot and knuckles.”

  Abel’s gaze hit every spot mentioned. “Does my baby have a dangerous right hook?” He wrapped her in his arms, and Doc laughed as she exited the room.

  Hope shrugged; the pain in her shoulder transformed the movement into a flinch. “I guess I do.”

  After she took a pill, he helped her change into the new clothes and lifted Hope into his arms. She didn’t complain, as pain and fatigue had taken over. Pressing her face into his warm chest, she allowed sleep to take her.

  Three Days Later

  Hope lifted the mirror to her face and grinned. The bruises were turning yellow and fading, and the puffiness had long since disappeared.

  Arms wrapped around her waist. “I told you, you wouldn’t stay black and blue for long,” Abel said, kissing her neck.

  She chuckled. She knew he was right, but it seemed like the bruising would take forever to heal.

  Putting the mirror down, Hope leaned into his warm embrace.

  “You ready?” He pulled away and twirled her to face him.

  Hope glanced up at her man—the man who’d offered her independence in their relationship, the man who’d made love to her, and held her close to his heart. She closed her eyes and leaned in, taking in his warmth and the security his arms had offered.

  “Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to be around when it happens. And that way, I know you’ll be safe.”

  This was the fourth time he’d asked this today, but Hope knew she had to do it. No more being pr
otected or hidden from her past. It was time for her to stand up.

  Hope pressed a tender kiss to Abel’s lips. “I am positive. I want to do this.”

  He groaned, his eyes saying more than his words ever had. Hope knew there was beauty buried beneath the pain her past had caused. Though her time with Mark had placed a scar on her soul, it’d also uncovered her strength. She’d made it out alive, when so many other women weren’t able to. She wouldn’t allow Mark to douse her light, nor would she allow him to dictate her future.

  “This plan . . .” Releasing her, Abel let his fingers softly trace up her arms until he lovingly threaded them through her hair. Hope closed her eyes as tingles played over her skin. He leaned in close, the warmth of his breath dancing over her skin, causing her body to heat up. “If he so much as looks at you wrong, I will kill him.” Though Abel’s words were meant to be a warning to her ex, the gravelly tone of his voice excited her.

  She put a hand on his chest, pushed up to her tiptoes, and placed a searing kiss to his lips. Abel lifted her, and Hope wrapped her legs around his trim waist. There was no time for this; their ride was outside idling, the horn blaring, its occupant no doubt annoyed. But Hope refused to give up moments like this. When the passion burned hot, triggering a primal response, their only choice was to explore it.

  Abel lowered her to the ground, his hands pushing up the sundress she wore. Hope threw her hands over her head and arched her back as he pulled her panties down her legs. She willingly spread for him, unabashed as his gaze took in her damp flesh. Deft fingers slid over her soaked folds, his fingers spreading her moisture over her cleft. Tension coiled deep in her belly with each soft pass his thumb made over her clit.

  Dropping his head between her legs, he gave her several soft kisses, licks and nips before settling in. His hands scorched her skin, so hot to the touch that Hope moaned at the slightest caress. Abel threw one leg over his hard back and pushed the other out to the side. Hope reached down and grabbed her leg, holding herself at her knee.