Durability (The LockDown Series Book 3) (9 page)

“Abigail. Wake up!” I say sternly, her body stiffening a little. “Now!” I use the voice I know drives her crazy, the deep controlling Dom that is inside of me.

She shoots up out of bed, her body leaving the mattress. She looks around manically like she is lost and can’t find her way. “It’s me baby, it’s Leighton,” I assure her, walking to her side again.

“Leighton.” She looks to me and then bursts out in tears. She brings her knees to her chest and lets her head drop to them as she releases her nightmare into them.

“Shhh, baby, it’s going to be okay,” I tell her as I sit on the edge of the bed. I wrap one of my arms around her and pull her to me. “Everything is fine now Abigail. You’re safe.”

“It’s not fine Leighton, he has our daughter, he has our daughter GOD-DAMN IT,” she speaks, leading into a shout after she finally stops crying.

“Angel, listen to me now. We need to talk about some things.” I sit her up a little so I can be serious with her. I know she is still broken from whatever her nightmare was about but she needs to hear what has happened today.

“What Leighton, tell me.” She looks worried. Sending herself into a self-induced state of panic.

“Baby, we have got Mel back, she is at home with Ant and Georgia safe and sound. But your dad, well…” I stutter when answering. I don’t know what her reaction is going to be. Will she be happy, relieved, angry, upset, regretful? It is hard to muster the strength to tell her. I have killed people, more than I can possibly count. Violent and torturous deaths, but none even came close to taking his life. It gave me some sick kind of pleasure doing so.

“Tell me!” she demands of me and if it wasn’t because I was about to tell her of her father’s whereabouts, I would bend her tight little body over my knee and spank the ever living shit out of her for using that tone with me.

“Abigail.” I warn her still, she shouldn’t forget her role in our relationship. My wife? Sure, but my submissive? That is something I crave for as much as having her for eternity. For me there simply is no one or the other. It is a package deal and if she wants me as her husband the way I want her as my wife, she needs to keep a closer eye on her training and follow it that little bit better.

“Sorry, Sir.” She lowers her head in apology, closing in on herself a little.

I clasp her chin and raise her eyes to me. Her bright blue globes, glistening from her tears, draw me in like a moth to a fucking flame and I feel myself igniting and exploding in front of her.

“Good girl. Now, I need to tell you something, it’s important baby, and I need you to tell me everything you're feeling after. Can you do that?” I question her, looking down at her and her precious form, so shielded and guarded. She was hiding herself, cocooning herself from any hurt the world could now throw her way.

“Yes Sir,” she responds, gulping down her saliva.

“Good. Now, when I found our daughter, she was with your father as you said. Antonio and I…” I stop, breathing out heavily.

“Just tell me, Leighton,” Abbi bites out, her eyes angry with her sadness.

“We killed him sweetheart.” Kill is an easy explanation. I had beaten the shit out of him, shattering and smashing every bone the fucking abusive bastard possessed. Then I persisted to shoot a round through his skull, chest and stomach. I hadn’t been merciful, in fact I had been merciless, not an ounce of regret or a second thought of doing it. He deserved everything I did and much more.

“Gonna be sick,” she says as she tries to reach for a bowl beside her, but her arm refraining her from getting it.

I jump from the bed to get her one but by the time I have returned, she has spewed all over the tiled floor of her room. “Oh baby,” I say sympathetically and I give her the bowl and enter the bathroom to collect some paper towels.

I clear up the vomit, trying my hardest not to heave. Baby sick is one thing, but adult vomit is unbearable. “You don’t have to do that,” she tells me as she cleans her mouth of her stomach contents and places the bowl on the side ready for disposal.

“Yeah, I do babe. I’m sorry it made you feel like that.” I take the bowl she has used plus all the used paper towels and dispose of them in the clinical waste bin, sliding the contents into the yellow bag.

“You okay?” I ask as I return and sit back on the bed beside her. I wrap my arms around her again, the lingering scent now permeating the air.

She shrugs her shoulders and I see the sadness she harbours. I have never felt guilty for killing somebody who deserved it, but she retains a kind of regret that signifies an unfinished tale.

“Abbi, tell me your thoughts, please?” I squeeze her to me a little harder, my hand reaching and landing on her shoulder. I feel again, noticing more dressings cover the wound than when she had been awake earlier. “What happened when I went Abbi?” I ask her with a look of concern on my face.

“They had to re-operate. I had internal bleeding because the artery opened up. That’s why I was talking gibberish, Leighton. I never meant those awful things I said earlier.” She is getting herself into a state again over her previous behaviour.

It makes me feel guilty as sin for the way I have reacted. I hadn’t taken a second thought to talk to her doctor and find out why she would be saying things like that. It wasn’t like her so why would I have assumed she would turn so heartless and cold so quickly? I should have known, I’m her fucking husband and I should have known something was seriously wrong.

“I’m sorry for the way I behaved angel, I shouldn’t have walked out.” I kiss her forehead and pull her to me again. “We’re a right pair aren’t we?” I giggle a little as she uses her good arm to tickle my sides.

“Anyways, how do you feel now Abigail, after the whole thing with your dad?” She flinches at the word.

“Don’t call him that! He is nothing like you are with Mel, you’re a real father,” she tells me and it warms my heart to know she thinks of me as a good parent.

“I’m sorry. How do you feel after the thing with him?” She relaxes a little into me but her body still feels solid against my side.

“What can I say? I’m happy, over the moon with excitement that he is dead? To be honest Leighton, I don’t know, I don’t know if his being dead will stop the nightmares now. Just the thought of him having his hands on our daughter makes me sick to my stomach. Every time I enter her room I’m going to see him with her, that fucking gun pointed at her.” She shivers in repulsion, shakes raking her as she replays the shooting in her head. It is clear as daylight that that is what she is doing.

I try to keep the rage I still feel at bay; even with the fucker gone he is able to stir a raw hatred for humanity within me. You can’t trust anyone; you need to make your own opinion of people before you allow them any kind of position within your life.

HE WAS HER FATHER. What kind of person does that, hurts a child for his own sick pleasure? I can’t even begin to understand what he must have been thinking for his entire lifetime. I am just glad I got there and got my girl back before something bad happened.

“I know baby. He can’t hurt you anymore and I will make it my every objective to keep anybody who will harm you, away from you, or I’ll die fucking trying.” I sigh as she looks up to me for the first time since sitting with her.

“I love you, Leighton. With every breath I take, every step I take on this earth, every beat of my screwed up, damaged heart, I am yours. You own me, baby. You own everything I was, am and will be. I am alive because of you and I will never be able to repay you for the life you have given me.”

“Abigail, you are the most precious thing to me on this planet. With you and our children by my side I don’t need anything else. I love you too, so much it hurts to see you in pain.” I lean
in and kiss her lips. I know everybody will think I am disgusting for going near them after her puking session, but I need to taste her lips and feel the warmth they can give me.

“I need to see Mel, I miss her so much. And Joe, is he okay?” she tells me and I smile brightly at her, pulling my phone from my pocket. I dial Ant’s number and wait for him to answer.

“Everything alright mate?” he answers breathily and I don’t even want to know what he was doing.

“Abbi is okay, Ant. She just wants to see Mel and Joe. Could you bring them up as soon as you can?” It is a wanker thing to do, to stop a man from having sex, but when it is Georgia I will stop her from ever having intercourse if I can.

“Sure thing, I’ll just get her ready and wake Joe up and then head up. Is it okay for Georgia to come?” he asks me through the phone and I can hear her giggling in the background.

“Of course, she’s
my
sister, dipshit. Bye.” I hang up the phone and place it on the side table.

“Now, tell me how this arm is, any sign of feeling returning?” I ask her and she tries to lift it with no movement. “You’ll get there babe, you always do. We’ll get there together.”

I can’t stop the gasp of happiness as Antonio walks through with Mel attached to his hip and Georgia on his hand. Clinging to Georgia’s hand sadly, Joe looks up at me. I smile sweetly at the pair of them. I am so glad he has found someone to shower in the love he once wanted to smother me in.

Georgia is a tiny woman, just over five feet in height, and long dark blonde hair like her brother, big green eyes and a heart like gold. I can tell from the look she holds, that she is enthralled by Antonio and has been for a long time.

The way she looks at her brother in utter adoration when she walks in the room says everything I need to know. She has missed him these past five years and is ecstatic to have him back. I can already tell how similar they are. I can see she has the spunk and charisma her eldest brother owns so well and I know just by looking at her that she doesn’t take shit from anyone. I know I shouldn’t let her tiny frame fool me.

“Abbi, sweetheart,” Ant says as he walks to me placing my jiggling daughter in my arms, before kissing my forehead and giving me a cuddle. “How you feeling?” he asks me. I wonder if Leighton has told them about my temporarily paralysed arm.

“As well as I can be, I’m just glad to be here now. Thanks for bringing her in for me,” I tell him. I am truly thankful that Leighton had found me when he had because I fear I wouldn’t have survived if he hadn’t. I lost a fuck load of blood yesterday and had to have two lots of surgery to repair the internal injuries I suffered when that bullet pierced my shoulder.

The last thing I can remember from that evening is the gun aimed at my head, not my shoulder. Why he had changed the direction of his shot I’ll never know, especially now that he lies dead somewhere at the hands of my husband.

“As are we baby girl. We would all be lost without you, especially this little one.” He strokes my little girl’s cheek and then returns to his girlfriend who is stood with her brother and nephew.

“Mummy missed you baby girl,” I tell my daughter placing her on my knees and supporting her with my one good arm. It is a lot of strain with her, now five month little self, as she pushes and jumps around. “Getting strong aren’t you angel?” I want so badly to be able to wrap her tightly in my arms and feel her warmth and soft skin against me. To smell that scent only she has, the one that calms every erratic, nervous thought I have, in an instant.

I beg my limply laying arm to do its job and move, but I get nothing back. I sigh sadly at the thought that it may never get better and I’ll have to learn to be a mum with only one good arm.

What if Mel runs in the road when she is walking and I can’t grab her because my arms fail me? What if she were to fall from this bed now and I couldn’t catch her? What if one arm became numb from supporting her too long and I needed to switch but couldn’t?

I am going to be a useless mother now.

I can feel tears surfacing at the negative thoughts in my head. I sniffle as a few droplets break free and my nose already begins to block up. “Mummy.” My head snaps up, tears falling as I look to Joseph running to my bed. He clings to my arms sadly, “It’s going to be okay, Mummy. You’ll get better soon, I know you will. I'm so happy you’re here, I thought me and Daddy had lost you like I did my other mummy,” he tells me, but I’m clueless as to what he has said past ‘Mummy’. I cry harder, almost gut wrenching, but these tears are out of happiness and they help me fight a little harder.

“Why are you crying, should I not call you that word?” Joe asks me sweetly, his big blue eyes looking at me.

“Gosh, Joseph, you make me so happy.” I lean down and kiss his head, leaning my cheek to the top of it. “I’ll always be a mum to you, baby boy.” I kiss him again and lift my head to look at Melissa giggling and mumbling away.

“Yay, I’ve got so much now. I’ve got a Daddy, two mummies, a little sister and uncles and aunties everywhere. I'm so lucky aren’t I Daddy?” he turns to my husband and asks, Leighton trying to fight his own tears at hearing his son so happy.

“You deserve the world, Joe, so the world I will give you.” Leighton tells him.

“I can't have all the world, Dad. You and Mum and Melissa have to have some too, don't you. Otherwise I’d be all alone.”