“Who the fuck are you?” His gaze scans down me, then back up again like a laser reading a barcode, presumably taking in my expensive jacket, my well-groomed appearance. Comprehension dawns on his face. “You’re that rich guy from the Ark she was cleaning for.”
“My name’s Noah King, and yes, I run the sanctuary up the hill.”
We study each other for a long moment. I can see his brain working furiously, wondering what this means.
“Aren’t you going to ask how she is?” I suggest.
He doesn’t say anything.
“She’s well,” I say. “And the baby’s fine too. You’re having a son, by the way.”
His face shows no reaction. We could have been discussing the weather.
“What’s she told you?” he asks.
“Everything.” I look at his stubble-coated face, his bloodshot eyes. I can’t believe Abby stayed with him so long. Her loyalty both awes and frustrates me. I know Leon has contacts at the local Women’s Refuge. I make a mental note to talk to him about it. It’s appalling that women stay in destructive relationships because they feel they have no way out. Men like me and Hal and Leon and Albie have to start doing something to change that.
“She told you about the money?” he says.
I nod. In the background, I hear the front door open, and behind him, I see Leon and the others coming through the door. They pause in the doorway, listening.
Tom’s eyes glitter with hope. He’s only concerned about the money. The thought gives me a bitter taste in my mouth.
“She’s a good girl,” he says. “I knew she’d help me out.”
Hal and Leon exchange a glance. I glare at Tom. “She didn’t ask me for the money, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
His smile fades. “You’re not giving me the money?” Panic fills his eyes. “But you don’t understand, these guys, they’re real mean, they break legs and stuff. I’ve got to pay them, or I’m done for.”
I try to summon pity for him. He hasn’t had the opportunities I have, the money, the loving family. Who’s to say what position any of us here would be in if we didn’t have the love and support and financial backing that we’ve had?
“I’ll give you the money,” I say, ignoring Hal and Leon’s startled looks. I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out an envelope. “There are six thousand dollars in here. Five to pay off your debt. And enough to pay the rent for a few weeks. That’s it, Tom. There’s no more. If you gamble this, there’ll be nobody to stand between you and those guys who break your legs.”
His eyes gleam with greed. “Yeah, okay.”
“And Abby’s not coming back,” I tell him.
He shrugs, then gives a disgusting smirk. “What did she have to do to get you to fork out that amount? I hope she was good.”
“Here we go again,” Albie says, and Leon says, “Shit,” and strides forward, but he’s too late. I’m over the sofa and on top of Tom before any of them can stop me.
I give him a sound right hook, putting all my anger and resentment behind the punch, and feeling nothing but pleasure as my fist connects with his chin. He flails his arms and one hand connects with my cheekbone, but I don’t care. I punch him again, and again, until his nose crunches and blood sprays over his clothes.
“All right.” Leon slides an arm beneath my elbow and lifts me up. I shake him off, wanting to mash Tom’s face beneath my fist, but Hal puts a hand on my chest, moving me back, looking into my eyes.
“He’s down,” he says. “You got him, Noah.”
I take a deep, shaky breath, then push past him, looking at the man on the floor. “Get up,” I snap.
“You broke my dose!” Tom holds his hands over it. Blood trickles through his fingers.
Zach and Albie lift him up into a chair. I stand in front of him. “You’re a fucking idiot,” I yell at him. “Do you understand that you’ve lost her? She’s stood by you all these years, and you’ve treated her like dirt, you piece of shit.”
His shoulders slump. “I know.” He closes his eyes. “I know.”
“She’s pregnant with your child, and you haven’t supported her financially, physically, or emotionally. You’re a sorry excuse for a man, and you make me ashamed of my sex.”
Zach hands him a roll of kitchen towel. Tom takes off a couple of pieces and presses them to his nose.
“I can’t help it,” he whispers. “It’s the gambling… I can’t stop.” He squeezes his eyes shut. Tears gleam on his lashes.
I look up at Leon, who rolls his eyes, and Hal, who looks pained. I reach into my jacket again and take out a card.
“This has the number of a doctor,” I tell him, putting the card on the coffee table. The card bears Brock’s name. I rang him this morning and discussed Tom, and he’s promised to help, if Tom will accept it. “He’s a good guy,” I tell him, “and he has contacts with the Gambling Association, and other doctors who specialize in addiction. He’ll be able to help you deal with this sickness you have. But the ball is in your court. You’re what, thirty? Thirty-one?”
“Thirty-two.” He coughs.
“Thirty-two—you’re still a young man. You could meet someone else, have kids, have a happy life. Do you really want to spend the next thirty years like this? Drunk, penniless, and stinking like a fucking shit heap?”
He dabs at his nose. He looks a broken man, and suddenly I feel guilty for hitting him. People with addictions can’t help themselves. But does that excuse the appalling way he’s treated Abby?
“She’s really not coming back?” he asks, his voice a whisper.
“Women are a gift, Tom,” I tell him. “You should have treated her like a princess. Asked her to marry you. Worked hard to make a home for her. Given her everything she wanted. You didn’t, and you’ve lost her. Only you can decide if you’re going to make this a changing point in your life. If it’s going to make you or break you.”
Tears run down his face. I can’t look at him anymore. I turn away. “I’m going to get her clothes. Guys, anything you see that might be hers, bag it up. Hal, keep an eye on him.”
“Will do.”
I pick up a bag one of them brought in and walk through to the one bedroom. Christ, this place is tiny. I open the wardrobe doors. There are surprisingly few clothes in there, and maybe four pairs of shoes. I think of the numerous racks of shoes Lisa had, and my heart twists for Abby.
I take everything out and put it into the bag as neatly as I can. Then I open the chest of drawers. Her underwear is laid out neatly, well-washed, faded, pairs of cotton panties and bras, none of the exotic items of lingerie I thought most women owned. I can’t see any maternity items. I scoop it up, put it all in the bag, and go into the bathroom. The cabinet contains a makeup bag and half a dozen almost-empty bottles. I put them into a smaller bag because I don’t want Tom to have them, although I’m sure she doesn’t want them either.
There are no baby items around. I go back to the living room to discover that Albie has been through the kitchen and removed all her cookbooks and a few other items.
“Anyone seen the baby stuff?” I ask.
Everyone shakes their head. “I found some bottles,” Zach said, “and half a dozen outfits in the corner, but that’s it.”
No pram or stroller? No changing mat, packs of diapers, hand-knitted blankets by family members, toys bought by colleagues and friends, beautiful onesies and funny hats, fabric books and squeaky toys?
I look at Tom, this man who took her away from her parents—which may or may not have been a blessing—away from her hometown, away from her country, to the other side of the world, who spent all her money, who made her give up her business and lost her house, who took her away from her friends, who got her pregnant, then abandoned her as if she was something he’d found on the sole of his shoe.
I want to kill him. I want to hit him until I literally pound the life out of him, and he stops breathing.
I look up and meet Leon’s eyes. He looks as disgusted as I
feel, but as I look at him, he gives a small shake of his head.
I turn and walk out of the door without another word.
Chapter Sixteen
Abigail
“Ooh, I’ve just remembered, I’ve got one more thing for you, hold on.”
It’s about an hour and a half later. We’re sitting in Noah’s living room, we’ve munched our way through the muffins, and the girls are all on their second glass of wine. I’m on lemonade, which sucks, but it’s probably better I don’t drink or else I’d just be bawling my eyes out constantly.
I shake my head at Summer as she gets up from the sofa and runs out to her car.
“Best to let her get on with it,” Izzy says. “I’ve never seen her have so much fun.”
I’m overwhelmed by everything the girls have brought me tonight. Summer has contacted a lot of her friends who’ve had babies, and she’s brought everything a new mother could need, from strollers to car seats, blankets to clothing, and a diaper bag to a baby sling. I’m sensible enough to know she could easily have afforded to buy me all this new, but she was worried about offending me, and so she’s passing it all off as secondhand.
Izzy bought me some beautiful white 4-ply wool because I’d mentioned to Noah that the wool I’d bought wasn’t as delicate as I’d wanted. And between them, they’ve all chipped in and bought me a whole lot of other stuff—a breast pump, bottles, several packs of diapers, a baby monitor, and a couple of maternity outfits for me that are simply gorgeous. I changed straight into one, half-relieved and half-disappointed to take off Noah’s sweater. It’s a navy tunic shaped to hang over the bump, so that I look pregnant instead of just enormous. I love it. I sling Noah’s sweater around my shoulders, because it comforts me, and the scent of his aftershave arises from it from time to time.
Summer comes back in, plonks herself back on the sofa, and hands me a box. “It’s a night light,” she says. “It throws stars on the ceiling. It’s really pretty.” She gives me another packet. “Not quite so exciting, but these had fallen out of one of the bags.” They’re breast pads. “For leakage,” she says helpfully.
“They will be very useful,” I advise. I’ve been using tissues up until now, and I know it’s only going to get worse once the baby’s born.
“So tell me,” Nix says to Summer, her mischievous smile announcing it’s going to be something saucy. “Is it true that when you orgasm, it makes you express milk?”
“Oh God, yes.” Summer peels the paper off another muffin. “Zach said his calcium intake has never been so high as when I was breastfeeding.” We all chortle at that. “Sometimes it squirts out,” she advises. “If you try really hard, apparently you can hit the wall with it, but I never managed it.”
“Jesus.” Izzy rolls her eyes. “I’m not telling Hal that. He’d be determined to make it happen.”
Nix snorts. “Kinky bastard.”
“He’s not kinky. He’s enthusiastic.”
“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”
“You can talk,” Remy says to Nix in her strong French accent as we all laugh. “The other day, Leon was getting grumpy because he could not find you—you had gone into town, I think. Albie told him he needed to get a pair of handcuffs and lock you to your desk. Leon said, ‘Been there, done that,’ and smirked.”
Nix blushes beautifully as we all whoop. “Mm, well, yes, that was his birthday present.”
I grin, stroking Willow’s head as she comes up for a cuddle. It’s been so long since I felt comfortable like this, and since I’ve had a proper girlie talk with women my own age. Paula is lovely, but she’s quite a bit older than me, and I’d die rather than discuss sex issues with her.
“It must be really awkward having sex with a big bump,” Izzy says, frowning as she tries to imagine.
“You find ways,” Summer advises. “From behind is pretty cool. Bump doesn’t get in the way then.”
She’s so frank and open. I’m a little startled by it, but it’s refreshing, too. I wonder whether her illness has given her the attitude that it’s pointless to be embarrassed. Why mince around delicate issues when it’s so helpful to talk about things like this?
“You didn’t find it put either of you off?” Nix asks. “Being pregnant, I mean?”
“Quite the opposite. Zach liked the whole womanly thing. And I found my sex drive increased, if anything. But then I don’t need much encouraging when he’s around.” Summer chuckles and breaks off a piece of her muffin.
I laugh, feeling warm inside at being included in this group of friends, although a little envious of their relationships with their men. They all seem so happy. Will that ever happen for me? I hope so. Unbidden, I think of Noah, and the desire that sometimes appears in his eyes when he looks at me. I don’t wish Peanut away, but I do wish I’d met Noah before I’d gotten pregnant. It brings such a mountain of complications, physical and emotional.
“How long have you got again?” Summer asks me.
“Eight days.” I have a big gulp of lemonade. After all that waiting, suddenly it doesn’t seem very long.
“If you go over, you know the best way to kick-start labor?” she winks at me.
“I thought it was having a curry,” Izzy says.
“That’s one way,” Summer replies. “The best way is nipple stimulation, or sex. It helps to release oxytocin.”
“Looks like Noah’s going to be busy,” Nix teases.
“Nix!” Izzy nudges her, and Remy rolls her eyes.
Nix pulls an eek face. “Oops. Sorry.”
I know I must have gone scarlet because my whole face is burning. “We’re not… um… an item.”
“We know.” Izzy glares at her friend. “And it’s none of our business.”
I sigh with frustration. “This is such a stupid situation.”
“It’s not stupid at all,” Summer protests. “Noah helps people. It’s what he does. He’d have helped any woman in your situation, and he’d be the perfect gentleman.” She’s being diplomatic, but she must read something of my feelings in my eyes, because her lips curve up. “Abby, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have special feelings for you.”
The other girls all laugh. “What?” I say, puzzled, as they exchange a look.
“He’s head over heels,” Nix says, earning herself another nudge from Izzy. “What? You told me in the car you thought the same.”
“I know, but…” Izzy glares at her again and flicks her gaze at me.
Nix blows a raspberry. “I don’t believe in secrets. What’s the point in everyone tiptoeing around the issue? Noah’s a sweetie, and there’s no way he’d make a move unless he knew you were up for it, but he’s gorgeous, for God’s sake! And he’s single, and he hasn’t had sex for ten years. Jeez. The guy’s going to erupt like Krakatoa when he finally gets down to it.”
I cough into my lemonade, and they all burst out laughing.
“Oh my God,” Izzy says, “Nix, what am I going to do with you?”
“Tell me I’m wrong,” Nix demands.
Izzy purses her lips and gives me a guilty glance. “She’s not. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s crazy about you. But we agreed we weren’t going to discuss it because we didn’t want to pile on the pressure.”
I’m completely flummoxed. They all look at me and smile.
“You must have guessed,” Nix says.
The feeling is mutual. Just so you know. But there’s a big difference between Noah liking me, and being “head over heels.” He can’t be head over heels for me. Can he?
“But he’d help anyone,” I protest. “Summer said that.”
“Oh, Abby,” Remy says. “It is not the same.”
“I’ve known him for about twenty years,” Izzy says. “I’ve not seen him like this with any woman since his wife died. I never thought I’d see it again.”
“Do you think he just wants to recreate that part of his life?” I whisper. “Is that why he has feelings for me, just because I’m pregnant?”
“I
don’t believe that,” Summer says. “I know he’s kinda screwed up with the agoraphobia, but I don’t think his grief sent him mad. He’s not like that. I’ve known him a long time, too, and he’d be horrified to think you thought that. You make him laugh, Abby. His eyes follow you around the room. He likes you. I’m convinced of it.”
I’m speechless. I stare at them, and Summer’s brow creases as she glances around at her friends. “I’m so sorry,” she says gently. “We really shouldn’t have talked about this. I was serious when I said he’s the perfect gentleman. If you’re not interested him, there’s no way he’d ever make a move on you, and he won’t be expecting anything from you.”
“It’s not that,” I whisper. “I do like him. Of course I do. But I’m terrified everyone will think I’m taking advantage of his kind nature. I’d hate his cousins to think I’ve latched onto Noah because he’s rich.”
“Abby, the guys are absolutely delighted,” Izzy advises. “You encouraged Noah to come for a walk to the Ark. He actually drove down to the beach on his own to collect you. I don’t think you truly understand what an amazing feat that was.”
“And tonight,” Nix continues, “he’s gone out with them. He told them he’ll go to the bar for a drink after they’ve picked up your things. Leon actually got choked up when he told me that. He worries terribly about his brother. He’s thrilled that you’ve brought Noah alive again.”
Summer reaches out and rubs my arm. “Nobody wants to say anything because you’ve obviously had a tough time, and you’re pregnant, and we weren’t sure how you felt about him. But we’re all rooting for you. If the two of you got together, there’d be a parade around the Ark, I swear.”
I have to swallow hard against the lump in my throat. They’re giving me permission to get to know Noah? To let the relationship develop? And his cousins don’t mind?
It’s only now I realize how worried I am about what they think of me. I like Hal, and Albie, and Leon, and all the others at the Ark. I was hoping to get to know them all better, to have them as friends, and I was terrified they’d think I was scrounging off Noah by letting him spend his money on me.
My Lonely Billionaire (The Billionaire Kings Book 4) Page 12