The wind blew, whipping her sable-brown curls around her cheeks the same way it had the night she’d picked me off this beach. And with that distraction, I watched Ned Harlington run the fuck away.
“He’ll hurt you,” I said.
“He doesn’t want me anymore.”
“How can you be so fucking sure, Abigail?”
“I’m… I’m not,” she admitted. “But I’m pretty sure.” The engagement ring on her finger sparkled in the moonlight. It looked more like Abigail than it did Ned.
I looked down the beach. I could still get him.
She grasped my face, palms cupping my cheek, drawing my attention back to her.
“I love you, Theo. Even if you don’t want me, even if you can’t give me your love, even if you never will. I love you.”
“I can’t give you what you need.” My voice was hoarse, raspy. I hadn’t intended that, but the pain in my chest scraped at my throat.
She was a fucking princess. Her blood was blue, but fuck all of that—she was Abigail. Abigail who loved blind, Abigail who gave her whole heart to mend yours. She deserved to be kept and cared for by someone worth something.
“You’re the only one who can give me what I need. It’s only ever been you. You’re it for me. I feel it in my bones. You’re in my blood. You’re in me. Why can’t you see it?”
I ground my jaw until it felt my teeth would become dust.
Abigail’s eyes narrowed. “Ned was going to give me the world. Should I go back to him?”
She took a step back, but I grasped her wrist, stopping her from leaving, keeping her palms pressed to my face.
“I’m scared. I’m scared you’ll leave me, but I’m jumping anyway, hoping you’ll catch me this time. Catch me.”
A split second followed her declaration, marked by the waves crashing into the sand, and then our lips collided—crashed, slammed. It was violent like the surf, the thunder roaring above us, the lightning flashing our world white.
Then she ripped her lips off mine. I went right back in, but she turned away, breath louder than the wind.
Our foreheads were still pressed together, her eyes on the sand.
“Loving me at a distance is selfish and cowardly,” she whispered. “I won’t let us do it anymore.”
Her eyes found mine. “You either love me in public, proud, where everyone can see, or not at all. I don’t want your burgers, I don’t want your presents, I don’t want secret acts of love, and I don’t want your protection. I want you.”
“Selfish? Cowardly?” I growled.
True, the voice in my heart whispered back.
“I’ll wait for you,” she said, finding my eyes. “Come find me. Come keep me. Please.”
She took a step back, breaking our connection. Then with one more searing moment of eye contact, she left, just as the rain started to slam into the ocean.
I woke with a hangover—an Abigail Crowne hangover. I should be used to them by now—I’d received enough of them in my life. It’s a throbbing ache that starts in your chest.
She’d called me on all my shit and offered me my greatest dream.
Why couldn’t I just fucking take it?
I groaned into my pillow just as there was a knock on the door—the newspaper. Whether I wanted it or not, the motel delivered the Crowne Point Tribune every goddamn morning.
I answered the door in my boxer briefs and nothing else. My hair was a mess and fell over my eyes, and the sun felt too hot. At my feet, in black and white print, Abigail’s face stared back under the headline ABIGAIL CROWNE ELOPES.
My heart bottomed out. Had she fucking eloped with Ned? I tore the paper off the ground as an older woman walked by, staring at how little I wore.
“Take a fucking picture,” I said, slamming the door.
I gripped the paper. It wasn’t an announcement about her and Ned. They said she’d eloped with her bodyguard. Something about her falling in love with a bodyguard and calling off the engagement.
I threw on jeans and T-shirt, heading to Main Street to see if any other publications had covered it. This had to be just another Abigail scandal. She wouldn’t really go through with something so nuclear.
When I got to Main Street, Abigail was front-page news on multiple national and international magazines. Not only that, morning news was covering her. They all said the same thing.
“My little reject…” I thumbed through the magazines. This was what she’d meant when she said she’d gotten out from under Ned.
The Crownes didn’t have many enforced rules, but there was one: you marry who you’re told to marry. If they let you marry for love, then how would you stay in power? How would you stay a Crowne?
I looked to the beach, to the black palatial house visible from anyplace in Crowne Point.
I needed to find her.
When I went to Crowne Hall, I decided to take a less bloody route. Many times I’d scaled Abigail’s wall so I could catch her when she snuck out. There was an easy-to-climb lattice on the shingled wall, and garden boxes to get your footing. Her window was high up and always open.
The alarm went off when I opened the window, so at least Tansy wasn’t lying about that. She had gone through with that part of the deal.
Her room, though? Fucking empty.
I went to find Tansy. They couldn’t have really fucking kicked her out, right? Tansy was where she always was—in the damn sunroom.
“Where is she?” I asked.
“Good question,” she hummed, not even surprised by my presence. She flipped a magazine, not looking up.
“She’s your daughter.”
“As far as I, and the rest of the family, are concerned, Abigail isn’t a Crowne. She took her things and left yesterday.”
It took a minute for what Tansy was saying to sink in. Yesterday, when Abigail had found me, she’d been kicked out? She gave up everything?
I was such an asshole.
“You kicked her out?” I asked, to be sure.
“She chose this. Abigail stood her ground for the first time in her life, over you.” Tansy lifted her head, pinning me. “Are you worth it, Theo?”
That was an easy question to answer. “No.” I nearly laughed. Hell fucking no. That wasn’t the answer I was focusing on anymore.
Tansy looked down at her magazine again, earmarking pages with five-layer cakes.
“But Abigail thinks so,” I continued. “So I’ll spend the rest of my fucking life trying to be whatever she sees in me.”
Tansy slightly raised her brow, flipping another page, earmarking another dessert. She didn’t acknowledge my presence further, and, either way, I was done talking to the Crownes.
Abigail left her family, left her entire world behind for me. She was somewhere—alone, with nothing.
I’d barely left the sunroom when I heard Gray’s apathetic voice drift over my shoulder. “This is the problem with feeding a dog. They keep coming back. They think they belong here.”
When I turned, he was speaking to the girl, Story, apparently now a fixture at his side.
Gemma was a few feet away, by the huge double doors, leaning against the stone walls, a cup of tea in her hands, watching my and Gray’s exchange with interest.
“I thought you were smart, Gray,” I said. “Don’t you know yet? You can kick me out, you can send me away, but I’ll come back. I’ll always come back. I’ll always be here. As long as Abigail will have me—and even when she doesn’t want me—I’ll fucking be here.”
Gray sighed. “What a fucking miracle she doesn’t live here anymore, then.”
Without another word, I kept walking.
“You ruined her life,” Gemma said as I was about to leave.
I stopped, and Gemma kicked off the wall. “She was a Crowne and now she’s nothing.”
“I’d fucking do it again too,” I said. “My only regret is not doing it sooner.”
She frowned, and just as I was about to push open the double doors and leave this plac
e for good, Gray spoke.
“You should’ve told us about Newton,” Gray said. “My mom might not care, but only I get to fuck with my sister.”
“And only I get to rip out her hair,” Gemma added.
I paused. I nearly had the doors open. I could see the cobblestone path that wound around the crystal fountain and down to the wrought iron fence.
I turned around. Gray and Gemma stood side by side.
I didn’t know what the fuck this was. Were they seriously acting like they cared about Abigail?
“What are you planning on doing with him?” Gray asked. “Some blue-collar appeal to the police. It won’t work. He’ll have them paid off before you finish your sentence.”
I pushed my cheek out with my tongue. “You want to help or something?”
“Or something,” Gray said.
“That weasel Newton is out. He’s the one getting excommunicated,” Gemma said. “Out of our lives. Out of our world. We’ll handle that part on our end.” Gemma glanced at Gray. “But when you blow up your life for Abby—as I’m sure you’re planning on doing—be sure to get Newt caught in the crossfire. Say Gray and Gemma Crowne were there. We’ll back you up.”
“Just this once,” Gray added.
Gemma rolled her eyes. “Duh.”
“Or,” I said, taking a step to them. “You’ll use it as an opportunity to fuck her over.”
“That would be hilarious,” Gray conceded. “But there is no fucking universe where I would side with Newt over a Crowne, not even for a joke.”
Gray stared back at me, bored.
If there was one thing I could trust, it was Gray’s unyielding arrogance about being a Crowne. This could work. This could save Abigail.
I grinned. “See you around then, brother-in-law.”
Gray glowered at my words as I pushed open the door into the bright summer sun.
Outside I caught a rare glimpse of Beryl Crowne getting out of his town car. He froze when he saw me, halfway in the car.
“Was it worth it, Theo?” he asked, straightening, righting his lapels. “Was it worth losing all of this?” He gestured around him, at the sprawling palatial home. “You could’ve climbed high.”
For five years I’d stared at the back of Beryl Crowne. In some twisted way, I think he cared for me. In this world, that was the best you can hope for. A mother who played games with her daughter’s love, a father figure who chose when you looked him in the eye.
“It was never about this. It was always about her.”
I kept walking, down the cobblestone path so long most drove up it, past hedges and glittering fountains, and out of the wrought iron gate that Abigail Crowne had opened for me.
I had one stop to make before I found her.
It was time to let the world know she belonged to me, that we belonged to each other.
Abigail had put a photo of some random shadow on the cover, so if I wanted, I could go and find her, live in the background like I had been—but Abigail was mine. She was mine the day she gave me that bracelet.
The Crowne Point Tribune offices were on Main Street, one of the original old-style buildings marking the street. It had been touched up, the Carolina-blue shingles and white trim bright in the sun. Very nautical, and very Crowne Point.
There was no going back. I could put it all on the line, and she could leave me. I could lose her. At a distance, I’d always have Abigail in some way, but she’d never be mine.
Today I would catch her. I would keep her. I would never let her go.
I just hope it isn’t too late.
I pushed open the door into a too air-conditioned room. The receptionist looked up at me with bored interest.
“I’m Theo Hound, Abigail Crowne’s husband.”
Thirty-Seven
THEO
Abigail was sitting on the beach, just like I had all those years ago when she’d found me. The sunset glowed orange on her skin, her feet buried inside the sand. Black leather sneakers were beside her. She set her chin on her knees, the sun bright on her cropped white shirt.
She was a literal dream come true.
All at once she stood, stumbling in the sand. I was there just in time to catch her. One arm anchored her waist as the ocean glittered citrine in a fading sun. We looked like a still from an old Hollywood movie.
“Theo,” she breathed.
I groaned. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say my name.”
Her grip tightened on my shirt. “What are you doing?”
I grinned. “Catching you.”
We had three uninterrupted seconds as she registered my words and the meaning behind them. Then the necessary evil I’d brought to show my love ruined the moment.
“Abigail,” the horde of paparazzi just a few feet away yelled, cameras flashing.
Abigail scrambled off me. “What the hell?”
I trailed my knuckle along her jaw. “You lied to me, sweet girl.” I inclined my head at the ring. She covered it, looking away.
“No, I didn’t. I should’ve, because you lied to me… but I simply didn’t correct an assumption.”
“So, a Crowne lie.”
She shrugged. “Old habits.”
Another moment passed. “Is that why they’re here? Do they think it’s you? Theo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into the spotlight.”
I stuck my tongue into my cheek to keep from smiling. “My little reject always getting in over her head. What did you say? Something about in public and proud. And about not wanting my burgers… you’re going to regret that.”
I unrolled the magazine I’d brought with me, handing it to her. She held the glossy pages, a line forming between her brows as she read the headline.
ABIGAIL CROWNE’S SECRET HUSBAND REVEALED.
I grasped her chin, pulling her eyes back to mine. “Didn’t you know if you made that kind of statement, I was going to cement it? Bind it and wrap it in steel.”
“No,” she whispered. “I didn’t.”
I grazed my thumb back and forth across her chin. I wished I could take all the hurt in her eyes away, heal the bruises on her heart. Maybe if I filled her chest with enough bliss, she wouldn’t feel them.
“I was always afraid to love you, Abigail. At first I thought if I kept my distance just enough, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt when you left me. Then it became, if I keep us distant, we can’t get close enough to break apart. You’re the one person I want to risk everything for. You wanted a grand gesture, this is it, Abigail. That magazine goes out tomorrow, but this is live. The whole world is watching. They know you’re mine. You belong to me. Forever.”
Something mischievous flickered in her clay eyes. “What if I said no?”
“It’s too late for that. This is for the world, Abigail. So people like Ned know what it means if they try and take you. So they know who’s going to rip their throat out. But us?” I leaned closer, so the words throbbed along her neck. “There’s no going back. We’ve belonged together for years. I’m keeping you. You don’t get to let me go, Abigail.”
When I pulled back, there were tears in her eyes.
I thumbed them away.
“I’m scared,” she said. “Every time I get close to my happily ever after it always crashes to pieces at my feet.”
I gripped her jaw tight between my fingers, willing her to feel my determination.
“Sweet girl,” I said. “I will always be there to pick up those pieces.” She chewed her lip, still uncertain. “I was saving this for… Fuck it.”
I reached into my back pocket.
“What are you doing?”
“Proposing. Properly.”
Inside was a bracelet, not a ring. It wasn’t anything someone like Ned could give her. It wasn’t worth more than a house. It wouldn’t sparkle in the sun.
But it meant something, and it was years in the making.
I grasped her wrist.
“I’m going to keep you, Abigail.” I clasped the
bracelet on her wrist and rubbed the material, loving the way it looked on her.
Then I looked up, catching her eyes. “Will you let me?”
She touched the bracelet. “What is all this?”
“Sea glass from the night you kept me. Origami from the first romance I read—the moment I knew I couldn’t lose you. The wine cork from the night we made love. One bead from the bracelet you gave me, the night I broke it and your heart…” There were key pieces from all the moments in our life, totaling fifteen charms. I hadn’t saved them for this purpose. I’d kept them because I’d wanted something to remember the moments by. When I’d been looking for something to propose to her with… it felt right.
Abigail always cared more about found treasures than any expensive piece of jewelry. I’d been finding and keeping our treasures secretly for as long as I could remember.
She touched the F, the bead I’d managed to save the night I nearly wrecked us irrevocably. Silence stretched on and on as she stared at the baubles on her wrist.
I needed something to break the silence.
“Bet you wish I’d given you a burger—”
Abigail jumped at me, and I stumbled back, barely keeping us from falling over. Her legs wrapped around my waist, and I anchored her with my arm.
The cameras flashed behind us.
“You… you saved the bead?” she asked, eyes wide, but before I could answer, she asked another question. “You kept all of this?
“I keep all of you, Abigail. Every laugh you make and every tear you drop. Every bruise I put on your heart. I keep it all. You’re inside me too. You wove yourself inside me before you even knew who I was.”
She crashed her lips to mine, furious, hot, fast. I could barely keep up with them, on my lips, on my neck, on my jaw, back to my lips again.
“Is that a yes?” I asked through her feverous lips.
She chewed her lip, and I fought the urge to bite it myself.
“It’s too late for that, Theo.” She lifted her eyes, using my own words. “We’ve belonged together for years. This…” She lifted the bracelet. “This is just for the world.”
Heartless Hero Page 29