Hard Silence (17 page)

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Authors: Mia Kay

BOOK: Hard Silence
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From the corner of her eye, Abby saw Evan vanish into his room.
Please let him go out the window. Please take care of him.
As further proof that she was beyond God’s help, Evan ran back into the hallway carrying his hatchet. Toby stayed glued to his side.

“I said,” Andy screeched, throwing a glass to get her attention, “turn it off.”

“I can’t,” she shouted the lie. Their only hope was that Jeff would hear the deafening wail. “The door’s broken.”

Andy’s stare focused on Evan. “Come out here. We’re gonna have a talk about your mama. And then you’re going to tell the police you saw it wrong.”

“No,” Evan screamed. “You killed her. I saw it.”

“I won’t have a child that talks back to me.”

The last time she’d heard those words, Wallis had been breaking her ribs and she’d been helpless. She wasn’t anymore. Abby closed her hand around the nearest weapon she could find—Evan’s baseball bat. Recalling the few lessons Jeff had given her, she kept her eyes open, looked at where she wanted to hit, and swung for the fences.

The deranged man howled as the bat cracked over his shoulder. He wobbled but he didn’t go down. Abby grabbed Evan as he rushed forward, hatchet at the ready, preventing him from barreling into the arms of their captor. Toby yelped as Andy kicked him aside.

Beyond him, she could see the blue lights careening off the treetops, getting closer. Andy leveled the gun at her, its barrel a gaping hole that took up her entire line of sight. Help would arrive too late. Abby curled around Evan and hoped she’d be enough of a shield.

The
ch-chunk
of a shotgun beat in counterpoint to the alarm.

“FBI!” Jeff bellowed. “Drop it.”

“You won’t shoot a man in the back,” Andy sneered.

“Try me.”

Abby blocked Evan’s face, keeping him from watching, and squeezed her eyes closed. More people crashed up her steps and into the room. The alarm keypad chirped, and the house was filled with ominous, expectant silence. Andy’s pistol clattered to the floor and he swore right before the cuffs snapped closed.

“You’re hurtin’ me,” he howled. “I just wanted to see the kid.”

“How the hell did he get out?” Jeff shouted.

“He kept whining about his back until we took him to the hospital,” Chet explained in a breathless rush. “He broke free in the ER. We didn’t have time to call and warn you guys.”

Abby opened her eyes to make sure Evan’s monster was out of her house, then she grabbed the boy by the shoulders and shook him. “I told you to run.” Tears dripped down his chin, and she yanked him to her in a hard hug. “You scared me to death.”

Toby slunk across the floor to cower against her, Evan trembled in her arms and Abby gathered as many shaky breaths as possible, reminding herself that it was her job to be the grown-up.

Jeff crossed the room in two long strides, knelt beside her and wrapped her in an iron grip.

“Everybody in one piece?” he asked, a hitch in his voice. “No one bleeding?”

Unable to answer two questions at once, she simply nodded. “Thank God you heard the alarm.”

“And that Hank keeps a shotgun by the door.” He rubbed her arm. “Let’s get you guys up to my house.”

She couldn’t go up there. Tonight was living proof of the havoc she’d wreak on his life. “Jeff, I—”

“Darlin’ you don’t have a door.”

“Take Evan.” She struggled to pull away. “I’ll stay here.”

Jeff let her get far enough to see the grim determination on his face. “No.”

“But—”

“No.”

She glared at him, and he glared back. A cool breeze brushed her skin, raising goosebumps. It wasn’t a big deal. She’d been colder and lived.

Jeff chafed his hands on her arms—banishing the chill. “I’m not leaving you here alone. If you stay, we all stay.”

Stymied by the manipulative argument, shivering worse with every breeze, all she could do was nod in agreement. Jeff picked up Evan, who was holding a squirming Tug. “Let’s go.”

At the top of the hill, Cassie greeted them at the door with a hug and a yawn before she returned upstairs. Jeff led them to the master bedroom, where the bedding had been thrown to the foot of the bed. The pillow he’d been using was still dented. “Crawl in, you two. I’ll sleep in the living room.”

He tucked them in and Evan snuggled against her, still shaking and sniffling. Shock settled into her bones, and she jumped when Jeff touched her shoulder.

“I’m going to hell,” he muttered as he lifted the blankets. “Scoot over.”

The mattress dipped, rolling her against him, and his arm anchored her close. “Hush, baby. I’m right here.” He rested his forehead against the back of her head. “You’re safe.” Evan hiccupped and burrowed closer, and Jeff moved his arm so he held both of them.

“You’re safe, Evan. I promise. Close your eyes,” Jeff mumbled. “You too, Slugger.”

She obeyed and he curled around her, his breath stirring her hair. “Now. Deep breath and exhale.” His voice vibrated through her. “Relax your toes and feel them sink into the mattress. Deep breath and exhale. Now your arches. Deep breath. Exhale. Your heels. Deep breath. Exhale. Your ankles...”

Toby leapt onto the bed, gingerly picking his way over feet, sniffing until he found the right spot next to her. Abby stared out the door down the dim hallway and into the shadowy kitchen, relaxing until her eyes drooped closed and her head sank into the pillow.

* * *

She jolted awake, breathless, as if her body was punishing her for sleeping on guard duty. She’d been asleep hard enough that Evan had moved without her knowing, and long enough for him to have curled on the other side of the mattress, he and Tug both snoring. Toby was snoring, too. Jeff was her island of peace. She dropped her head to the pillow and closed her eyes. And snapped them open again when his thumb brushed the underside of her breast.

“Sorry,” he whispered, but he didn’t move the hand splayed across her stomach. It warmed her through the soft cotton shirt, relaxing her against him even as his erection prodded her behind. Her nipples hardened, and suddenly the flimsy clothes were too much.

As though he was thinking the same thing, Jeff dragged his fingers down her torso and stroked her lower abdomen before sliding his hand under the shirt. Skin to skin, Abby soaked in the heat and comfort even as she grew aware of every place on her body she wanted him to touch.

“I’ve wanted you in my bed for months,” he said. “And here you are, with an eight-year-old, a border collie and a beagle. With my sister asleep upstairs. Did you hit Andy with the bat?”

Abby scrambled to separate her arousal from their conversation. “Uh-huh.”

“Good hit.” His erection lengthened, and he flexed his fingers, urging her backward. “I’ll cancel my trip.”

While that sounded like a perfect plan at the moment, she fought the urge to agree. He had a life, and he needed to keep it. “You can’t do that. We’ll be fine.”

“Stay up here until your door is fixed. And I’ll talk to Glen about moving the bastard to another town, and about patrolling out here. I’ll check on you.”

That was too much. The police shouldn’t be out here, and he shouldn’t get involved. “Jeff—”

“You scared the shit out of me,” he said as he balanced his chin on her shoulder.

“You didn’t seem scared.”

“The shotgun helped.” His soft laughter tickled her neck. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“You’d never done it?”

“Abby, I’m a lab rat. We don’t go on raids.” He danced his fingers across her stomach, his short nails adding a thrilling bite. “You’re so soft.”

This was her family. A little boy who wasn’t hers and this man she couldn’t resist. And she was going to lose them both. Her fantasy was just that, and the thought crushed her worse than any blow Wallis had delivered.

Jeff kissed her neck. “You’re thinking too much.”

“Jeff—”

“Shh. It’ll keep. Deep breath. Exhale. Relax your toes...”

Chapter Sixteen

Abby slid into a booth at the diner and met Maggie Harper’s smile with a deep sigh. “Sorry I’m late. Evan had practice. I had to sign up for snack duty.”

“How did that go?”

“Fine.” It had. Eventually. The mothers, the real mothers, had all known each other for years. It had been nerve-racking to walk into the chatty group and have to make conversation, but she’d done it. “I have the first game.”

“Friday?” Maggie asked, raising her eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

Abby understood her friend’s doubt. She actually shared it. But the only other dates had been late in summer, and it didn’t seem right to wait that long to help. Or to spend the summer worrying about it. Besides, she might not have Evan then.

“Yes.” He was going to be normal, and she was going fake it. Like killing spiders.

“You’ve had a busy summer,” Maggie said, grinning. “How’s it going otherwise?”

“Good.” And it was. Andy Gaines was an hour away, locked in a tiny cell for twenty-three hours a day, and dealing with more charges than she could recite, including ones for kidnapping, criminal trespass and terroristic threatening. Evan was sleeping in his room again, without nightmares and with his hatchet under his bed instead of
in
it. They’d finally hit a rhythm in their routine.

“How’s he doing without Jeff?”

“Fine. He video chats. They do Evan’s math homework.”

“How are
you
doing without Jeff?”

She missed him. A lot. Enough that she’d dawdled over repairing her door just to sleep in his bed and imagine him next to her. And enough that Maggie’s twenty questions got under her skin. “Fine. Why are you asking?”

“It’s conversation,” Maggie hedged.

No it wasn’t. Conversation for Maggie was generally about mutual friends, work, or the community. Abby crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow.

“All right,” Maggie grumbled. “He dates a lot, Ab. And he’s not the small-town farm-boy type.”

“And I am?” Abby asked, ignoring that for the last twenty-three years she’d been exactly that. What would Maggie think if she knew about the years spent rattling around racetracks and casinos, about truck stop breakfasts and scrambling out bathroom windows to avoid paying hotel bills? About the hard lessons of death and secrets.

“I’m just worried you’ll get hurt,” Maggie persisted.

Just like I’m worried about you
.

“You’ve taken on a lot, and things will change later. I know how much that can suck.”

No she didn’t. Gray had started out temporary but had become permanent. She’d never lost him. But
everything
in Abby’s life was temporary, even the friend sitting across from her now, pissing her off by reminding her of her fate.

You’ll be alone
. Wallis’s age-old taunt crept through her brain.

“So you can have Gray, and Char can have Kevin, and Tiffany can have Michael. But I can’t have anyone?”

“That isn’t what I’m saying. It’s just that—”

“No one like him would spend time with me without a motive?”
People will use you and throw you away. You’d better learn to use them first.

“Abby—”

You’ll die, and
no one
you’ve cried over will remember you.
“I’m supposed to end up like Faye? Alone in the nursing home, looking out the window, with no one around but other people’s children?”

Maggie put up both hands. “Whoa. That is
not
what I’m saying. It’s just—”

“I know he’s going back to Chicago. I know Evan will be adopted.” Abby balled her fist around her napkin. “It’s
my
life. I know what I’m doing.”

Sure she did. She’d wrapped her life around people who were moving forward without her. “Maggie, I’m not a little kid anymore.”
I was never a little kid.

“We love you. You know that, right?”

They’d love her until all the secrets came out, and then they’d be glad to see her go. She’d fade into Fiddler lore. The crazy woman who’d tricked everyone and hidden in plain sight.

“I know. And I love you, too.”
You have no idea how much.
Abby lifted her purse onto her shoulder and stood, her appetite ruined. “I’ll see you on Friday at the game.”

She walked to her car and sat behind the wheel without starting the motor, staring out the windshield. Rather than seeing the shoppers on the sidewalk, she saw her past and every cruel, twisted fork in the road.

Bridget Simpson walked by, the greyhound at her side on its leash, and waved wildly. The sun glinted off her earrings. Abby waved back, noticing the patterns created by sun and clouds, listening to birds, traffic, and laughter.

In Fiddler, her silence hadn’t made her an outcast. At every point, given a choice, she had picked the path that had created a life here. A life she wanted to keep.

* * *

There was no way to do it.

Abby sat in bed and flipped through the last three days’ worth of journal entries. All the pages documented her dead-end conversations about how to unravel the mess of her life and give everyone what they wanted.

“Let’s be honest,” she said to Toby, who was curled at her feet. “So I can get what
I
want, and maybe have Jeff in my bed instead of you.” She stared into soulful eyes. “No offense.”

The only way to have what she wanted was to leave Buck in his shallow, nameless grave. She felt disloyal for even thinking it. The other option was to simply wait until someone came looking for the connection. Dishonest as well as disloyal.

Her phone rang, and her breath caught. No one in Fiddler called this late. They were all home with their families, curled up and safe. Except for Maggie and Gray, who were still at the bar. She leaned over and read the name on the screen. Jeff.

Despite tingling all the way to her toes, Abby didn’t answer. Even though she ached to hear his voice, she had too much stuff bubbling in her brain, including how disloyal it was to keep secrets from him. Disappointment washed over her when the ringing stopped.

And, just like all those years ago, that first month alone when the house phone had been disconnected, cold silence settled over her, reminding her of what life would be like if she told him everything. Toby moved within petting distance.

The text alert dinged, and she couldn’t stop her curious fingers from hitting the button.

Answer the phone.

It rang again. She let it go.

I’m going to keep doing this until you talk to me.

She typed the truest response she could muster. I can’t talk tonight.

Then listen.

Maybe there was an alternative. Can’t we just do this?

No.

Her resolve strengthened. He couldn’t make her talk, not from long distance. All she had to do was shut off her phone.

The alert dinged again. Please.

Dammit.

The phone rang again, vibrating her fingers and amping her nerves. Why couldn’t he understand? She connected the call.

“Why do you. Push me?” she snapped.

“Because you pull me.”

Silence stretched between them until his deep exhale crackled through the line. “I miss you, Slugger.”

That made no sense. “You call every night.”

“And talk to
Evan
. Do you know what it’s like to sit here and listen to you clatter around in the background but not see you?”

She did, because she stayed in the room just to hear his voice. “I miss you, too.”

“You do?”

His audible smile curled her toes. The man was too much of a flirt for her own good. “Yeah. I have to open my own doors.”

“Good. But I need to talk to Evan about his manners.”

“No you don’t.” She grinned. “When I got to school this afternoon, I caught him opening the door for a girl in his class.”

“That’s my boy.”

His
boy
. The line fell silent again. “Damn,” Jeff breathed before he cleared his throat. “Why did you have to go to school?”

“I’ve been taking him and picking him up.”

“He needs to be on the bus,” Jeff said. “Don’t make him afraid.”

“Can’t he be afraid?” she countered. “He’s been through a lot.”

“He has, but he needs to be a normal kid.”

“Why do you think I’m doing all this?” she asked. “I have to take snacks for Friday’s game, Jeff.”

“That’s not the point. He’ll make friends easier if he’s not isolated like—”

“Like me. I know that. But I’m not going to teach him to be some macho jerk who’s all swagger and no substance.”

“Like me?”

She’d give everything she had to see Evan turn out like Jeff. “Don’t put words in my mouth,” she snapped. “I have my own. And what I’m. Trying to say is that. He gets to say when. He’s afraid. And he gets to know people will listen.”

“All right,” Jeff sighed. “I get it.”

“And he’s going back on the bus on Monday,” she informed him. “We’d already talked about it.”

“I wish you were here.” Jeff’s voice had turned silky.

“You do?” Abby couldn’t stop her grin.

“I like watching your face when you yell at me.”

“Where are you? Can you say?”

“West Texas. I’m meeting with the local sheriff on a case.” He yawned. “And I have a field trip in the morning, so I’d better get some sleep. Sweet dreams, Slugger.”

She lost the fight against the tingles under her skin, the security that wrapped around her. Even at the other end of the country, he inspired it. She was wanted, missed even.

Wallis had been wrong about that. Maybe she had been wrong about everything else, too. Maybe there was a life waiting beyond all those secrets.

* * *

I’m a baseball mom.

Abby shook her head in disbelief as she and Evan dropped the cooler in the dugout. Evan had wanted to bring SweeTARTS, candy, popsicles and soda. They’d compromised with water, tangerines, apple slices and frozen squeezable yogurt.

She wanted to stay and make sure Evan was comfortable and that he fit in. She wanted to encourage him to do his best and be a good sport and not to worry if he missed a catch or struck out. But he was quickly surrounded by his teammates. Michael Marx and Nate Mathis, the coaches, winked and shooed her away.

Her walk to the bleachers was interrupted by greetings from parents she’d met at practices. Wrestling her bag full of camera gear, rain slickers and umbrellas, she fought the urge to run from small talk. Evan didn’t need to be tagged as the boy with the weird mom—even if she was only temporary.

In the dugout, Evan kept his gaze on the crowd, and she knew he was looking for Jeff. She resisted turning to search for the Audi in the parking lot.

“I’m sure he’ll be here if he can,” Maggie reassured her.

Abby nodded and smiled. “I know. So does Evan.”

The first batter walked to the plate, and the parents on each side clapped in encouragement. After two strikes, he hit a wobbly ground ball and made it to first base. The next two batters struck out. Evan was fifth in the lineup, and Abby prayed he wouldn’t get a turn in this inning. Maybe the rain would start and they’d stop the game.

As the fourth batter came to the plate, Jeff scrambled up and sat behind her.

The clang of aluminum signaled a hit, and the runner easily made it to first. Two outs, runners on first and second. And Evan was up.

“C’mon, Ev!” Jeff, Gray and Maggie shouted and clapped in chorus.

Abby held her breath. How did parents do this every week?

Strike one.

“Good look. Wait for your pitch,” Jeff coached as he ran his knuckles up her spine. “Breathe, sweetheart,” he whispered.

Strike two.

“Good cut!” Jeff yelled. “Watch the ball, Evan!” Under his breath, he muttered. “Clap, Abby. He needs to see you cheering for him.”

His large hands rested on her shoulders, and Abby responded to the coaxing. She was glad of it when Evan looked over his shoulder to see his fan club. He stepped back into the batter’s box and readied for the pitch. Jeff’s grip tightened.

It tightened further when the clang rang out, sharper than the last hit. The ball shot past the infield and dropped between the outfielders. Evan was already halfway to first base. The throw to third was too high. Nate Mathis was signaling Evan around to second.

“Run, Evan!” Abby and Jeff shouted in stereo.

Stand-up double, one RBI.

“Woo-hoo!” Jeff whooped.

Gray and Maggie whistled their approval while Evan waved from second base. His gap-toothed smile was wide.

“Pay attention,” Jeff said, pointing at the third base coach.

A new batter came to the plate, and Abby looked over her shoulder. Jeff leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

“Sorry I’m late,” he whispered. “The rain slowed me down.”

“We knew you’d come.”

They relaxed into the game, laughing with the families and celebrating each run regardless of which team scored. Jeff draped his arm over Abby’s shoulders and whispered explanations of each error and every good play.

In the last inning, with two outs, the Mathis Mariners were leading when the other team’s best hitter came to the plate. His hit went high and deep, and toward Evan in center field. Abby squeezed her eyes closed.

“Watch,” Jeff said as he shook her shoulders. “If he catches it, he’ll want to know you saw him.”

She pried her eyes open and watched the play. Behind her, Jeff whispered instructions.

“Watch the ball, Ev. Look it into the glove. You can do this. You can.”

He did.

“Yes,”
Jeff yelled.

“Go, Evan!” Abby cheered.

His team cleared the dugout and surrounded him, lifting him to their shoulders. He was the hero of the game.

Jeff helped her scramble down into the crowd, and they were waiting at the dugout as Evan ran off the field and straight into her arms.

“Did you see me?”

“I did!” Tears tickled the back of her throat.

His smile was wide and bright, and he was covered in dirt and sweat. He was such a different boy already. He had friends and good memories. He was doing what normal boys did. She was doing something right for him.

Evan wrapped his arms around Jeff’s waist, and Abby’s heart grew two sizes when the grown man knelt to the boy’s level. Jeff’s smile was as brilliant as Evan’s, and his hug was just as tight.

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