Justice For Abby (14 page)

“Abby.” He snagged her wrist, turning her back to face him, knowing he should let her go. “Wait.”

She swallowed as he held her gaze. “What?”

“I don’t—I don’t know.” He moved closer, sliding his thumb along the soft skin of her inner arm, fighting to remember the rules—his rules.

She pressed her hand to his chest, pushing him away, then curled her fingers into his shirt, closing the last of the distance between them as her breath trembled from her lips. “Jerrod, what—”

“I don’t know, Abigail,” he whispered, only certain that he needed her as he cradled her face, capturing her lips with fevered pressure.

She whimpered as she gripped the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He took her deeper, his tongue diving, enticing hers into a frenzied dance, groaning as her sweet flavor and throaty purrs tempted him to take more. She slid her palms along his back as his fingers wandered into her hair, tugging at the elastic, sending a cascade of cold, damp locks to her shoulders. He tilted her chin up, pressing moist, searing kisses along her neck as her hands found their way beneath his shirt, clutching, teasing, trailing up his stomach and over his pecs.

“Jerrod. Jerrod,” she panted, gripping his hips, staring at him with slumberous, desire-filled eyes, moaning as he walked her backwards, reaching into her pants, clutching her ass in skimpy panties, kneading, pressing her to the wall, finally touching her the way he’d longed to for months. He nibbled at her soft, full lips, tugging with his teeth and plundering, starving for another taste of her, certain he would never get enough.

She unfastened his snap, gasping for air as their lips parted and met once more. He lifted her shirt, unclasping her bra, reveling in the feel of hot, smooth skin as he cupped her breasts. She moaned again, arching, urging him on as headlights cut across the windows, sending him crashing back to reality. He blinked, coming to his senses at the sound of the truck door slamming.

“Come upstairs,” she whispered out of breath, clinging to him.

What in the hell was he
doing
? “Abby,” he shuddered out, resting his forehead against hers. “Abigail, I can’t do this.” He held her face, looking her in the eyes. “I
can’t
,” he said desperately, reminding himself more than her that this could never and should never have happened.

Her breathing slowed as they continued to hold each other’s gaze, her eyes full of questions.

“Abby, I just can’t.” But he wanted nothing more than to take her to his bed. He stared at her cheeks pink with passion and her lips swollen from his hungry mouth. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded, averting her gaze, pulling away, and went upstairs.

He listened to her hurried steps, scrubbing his hands over his face. “
Damn
it!” He’d started that and ended it in a supremely bastard-like way. Why didn’t he let her walk away when she’d tried? What was he going to do about this
want
for the woman he couldn’t have?

Sighing, he bent down, picking up the hair tie both had forgotten about. He sniffed at the elastic, breathing in her scent, starting up the stairs as his mother let herself in. He and Abigail needed to talk. He needed to clear the air yet again. He stopped outside Abby’s mostly closed door, raising his hand to knock, but dropped it. What the hell was he supposed to say? If he tried to fix this now he would only make everything worse, especially when he wasn’t certain he would be able to walk away. Turning, he went into his own room instead. He had all night to lay awake and figure out how to repair his latest mistake.

~~~~

“There is nothing here but furnishings.” Aleksey wandered from the dining area to the kitchen, systematically opening cupboards, glancing at glasses and plates, pots and pans and shut them. “There are no personal papers or photos. I only know this is her place because Victor says the computer tells him so.”

“Bullshit. There must be
something
, some clue to tell us for sure,” Dimitri shouted.

Aleksey pulled the phone from his ear as he wandered back to the bedrooms, stopping in the doorway of the room with brown bedding. “If this is her condo, she lives with a man. I’m looking at weights too big for a woman her size.”

“See? This is useful. Open your eyes, Aleksey, and find more.”

Aleksey grit his teeth, sick of Dimitri’s condescending tone. “My eyes see just fine while I search and you sit back in the safety of a hotel.”

“Mind your tone,” Dimitri warned. “What have you found on her sister?”

“Nothing.” He winced, knowing he wouldn’t live much longer if this continued to be his answer.

“This is no good,” Dimitri’s voice vibrated with frustration. “The little bitch and her family did not just
vanish
. We must find her before it’s too late.”

Aleksey went back to the room with blue and yellow bedding, sniffing at the hint of perfume lingering in the air. He walked to the closet, opening it, closing it, growing more frantic that the answers Dimitri wanted weren’t here. He moved to the empty desk he’d already searched, yanking the drawers free, sliding his hands along the top, catching the edge of a crumpled piece of paper, pulling it loose. He stared at the wrinkled sketch, smiling. “This is her place.”

“What?”

“This condo is hers.”

“How do you know this for sure?”

“I’ve found a drawing of the girl she liked to baby in Baltimore. The little mouse you liked to fuck.”

Dimitri chuckled. “Which one?”

“You ask me to remember names? The last one you and Victor took.”

“Ah,
that
little mouse. We still have her. Track her down. We have lessons to teach.”

“It will take a few days.” He put the drawers back. “I don’t know where they have taken her.”

“A point is hard to make when one must wait,” Dimitri snapped.

“I’ll work quickly.”

“I look forward to seeing my little mouse. Perhaps little mouse will bring the bitch out of her hidey-hole.”

He hoped for all their sakes Dimitri was right. “I’m sure this will work.”

Dimitri hung up without another word.

Aleksey looked at the sketch again, wiping at the sweat along his brow. Dimitri’s mouse just bought him more time. She would be on the chopping block now instead of him. He dialed Luka’s number, waiting.

“What did you find?”

“Good news. Victor is right; this is her place. We need to find Dimitri’s mouse he liked so much in Baltimore. She will lead us to the bitch.”

“I will make calls and find her.”

“Do it quickly. We must find them both before Dimitri kills us.” He hung up, covering his head with his dark hoodie as he walked down the hall and rearmed the security system, messing with the wires and chips until he knew they would never know he had been here. Glancing around one last time, he closed the door behind him, planning to make the most of his second chance.

Abby stepped from the nesting house, closing the
door
behind her as she blew out a quick breath, shuddering as she absorbed the unforgiving cold. “Holy crap,” she muttered, clutching her coat to her throat, hunching against the strong winds as she hurried down the path with her basketful of eggs. Tim had assured her she would get used to the unbearable temperatures, but she wasn’t so sure. The wind alone chilled her bones, making outside chores a misery, but the animals needed attention no matter what the thermometer read.

Despite her goose bumps and chattering teeth she grinned, flushed with the successes of her day. Mary officially turned over the hen house duties, dubbing Abby the Quinn Family Farm’s new egg gatherer, and Uncle Jimmy finally let her hook one of the cows up to the milking machine. Sighing her contentment, she stared at the big, beautiful house, watching the smoke plume from the living room chimney into dull, gray skies. She shivered, blinking her tired eyes, and laughed, twirling once, careful not to damage the eggs as she continued down the frozen path, reveling in her happiness.

Life was so
simple
here, the pace so slow and easy. The townspeople were kind and the stores small and charming. She could actually think without the familiar burden of fear. The constant nightmares she’d experienced in LA had yet to make an appearance, and the ceaseless need to look over her shoulder was gone. She was
free
and safe. She laughed again with the heady power of liberation, silently thanking Jerrod for giving her this opportunity.

She glanced toward the kitchen windows, smiling, shuddering as delicious tingles rocketed through her core, remembering the way he’d kissed her breathless and surprised her with his hungry demands. Last night opened her eyes to the real Jerrod Quinn. Not only was he a bodyguard and former US Marshall but also a reluctant farmer who helped mama cows birth their calves. He’d shared his story over a mug of tea, finally letting her in, then he’d
ravaged
her, his mouth feeding on hers like he’d been starving; his hands touching everywhere, stoking fires that were still burning. His calm, laidback façade would never fool her again. Beneath the recesses of those steady baby blues lay an inferno of toe-curling sexy she’d never experienced until now.

So why did she walk away so easily when he unexpectedly slammed on the brakes? She cursed herself again as she had a hundred times while she lay awake in the dark, staring at the shadows dancing on the ceiling, tossing and turning like a top ready to blow. Jerrod said he “couldn’t” as he’d held her cheeks in his strong hands, staring into her eyes, but Jerrod most certainly could, and she planned to enjoy the ride.

Another slow smile crossed her lips with an anticipation she hadn’t felt in a very long time. The cool Mr. Quinn had officially stirred her libido back to roiling. Now that she knew how it could be, she wanted more; she planned to have all of him very soon, but how?

She nibbled her lip as fragrant baths, sexy nighties, and a midnight visit to Jerrod’s room came to mind, but she needed to purchase her tools of seduction first. She swallowed the small lump of guilt, thinking her underhanded thoughts, and shook it away. Sometimes a woman had to take charge, and she was ready. Jerrod definitely wouldn’t be sorry, but first she needed to wash the eggs, then she would track him down—not that he was ever hard to find—and they would be off to the town’s one department store for something spectacular and lacy.

She pressed her hand to her stomach, calming her jitters as she climbed the steps and twisted the knob, walking into the blessed warmth. She pulled off her hat, stopping short, staring in disbelief as Shelby and Jerrod stood by the counter, his hands gripping her shoulders, Shelby cupping his cheeks, in a full-on lip lock.

Jerrod broke free, pushing Shelby away as the beautiful redhead smirked. “Damn it, Shelby.” He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes going wide before he closed them. “Abigail.”

 Her heart sank as she set down the basket, afraid she would drop it from her trembling fingers. “Excuse me,” she mumbled, walking up the stairs blindly, forgetting Mary’s rules about boots in the house in her hurry to get to her room as Jerrod called after her. She stepped inside and closed the door, clutching the knob as her breath came too quickly. She wished she had the strength to lock herself in, but she opened the door a crack and sat on her bed, gripping her arms across her chest in the heavy wool coat, despite the heat flooding through the vents.

Shaking her head, she rested her forehead in her hands. Did she actually just
see
that? She closed her eyes and puffed out a breath as her stomach churned with nausea. Jerrod had assured her there was nothing left between him and Shelby, and she’d believed him. He’d never given her a reason not to
.

Abigail, I can’t do this. I can’t.
His voice echoed through her head like a nightmare. He could, just not with her.

And to think she’d been ready to try her hand at seduction. She laughed, her eyes filling as she stood, walking to the window, staring out at the snow-covered fields. Jerrod may have left Shelby behind, but he certainly wasn’t over her as he’d claimed. Her breath shuddered out as she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. How could she have been so
stupid
?

She unzipped her coat and took it off, laying it on the chair by the fireplace as she glanced at the phone on the side table, yearning to call Lex. Alexa would know what to do; she would know what to say to make all of this make sense, but she couldn’t put her family at risk just because she was having a Jerrod crisis.

She nibbled her nail as she paced in small circles, well aware that she would have to deal with this problem on her own. She’d been certain pursuing a relationship with Jerrod was the next healthy step in her road to healing. Dr. Tate had assured her she would know when she found the right partner, and she thought she had. Now nothing was clear.

She walked back toward the window and stopped as a whole new thought occurred to her. What if her abduction was part of the problem? What if Jerrod was attracted to her but realized he couldn’t be with someone who’d lived as she did for two hellish months? She’d hardly endured what the other girls did, but she’d done several things she wasn’t proud of—lap dances, stripping her body bare in seedy clubs, poll dances to catcalls. What if somewhere below the recesses of Jerrod’s compassion he thought her dirty? She’d thought
herself
dirty until several sessions into her therapy and numerous meetings with her support group.

Jerrod had been supportive from the beginning, but dealing with panic attacks and offering comfort after her dreaded nightmares was easy when he could take a step back. A relationship meant delving into the thick of it all, and he probably didn’t want to.

Everything had been different since the photo shoot. Perhaps the forced connection reminded him she wasn’t just any other woman, and his job had been a convenient excuse. Alexa was married to a bodyguard, as were Morgan, Sarah, and Hailey, and soon Wren would be too. Their husbands had handled their protection just fine.

Surely last night had been a mistake in Jerrod’s eyes. He’d been too caught up in the excitement of the birth and vulnerable after he shared so much of himself with her. He’d forgotten where she came from for a moment and pushed her away when he remembered.

Her stomach sank lower as the truth became apparent. Jerrod couldn’t handle who she was—and her experiences in the Baltimore stash house and strip clubs were part of that whether he liked it or not. She straightened her sagging shoulders, reminding herself that she would not be ashamed of what she’d lived through or what she’d done to survive. If Jerrod was, well, she couldn’t help that, even if the possibility broke her heart.

She caught sight of her own devastated eyes in the mirror and looked away, trying desperately not to care as Shelby’s smooth voice grew loud. Seconds later the door slammed, making Abby jump.

She looked to the sewing machine Mary was letting her borrow and her sketchpad—her solace. She made a beeline to the desk Jerrod had moved in from one of the other guest rooms. She opened the book to the next clean page and picked up a pencil, eager to escape. She didn’t want this stress or need it, nor did she want to feel the misery she was drowning in as she sat among her things. She positioned her paper, ready to begin, finding comfort in the familiar, finding power and strength as she drew the first line.

~~~~

“Abby. Wait.” Jerrod started after her, stopping on the first step, shoving a hand through his hair as she quickened her pace and disappeared down the hall. “Damn it!” He whirled. “What the hell was that, Shelby? What are you
doing
?”

“An experiment.” She smiled coolly, crossing her arms, leaning against the counter.

He was still trying to catch up with the last two minutes. He and Shelby had been arguing, then out of nowhere she grabbed him, planting one on him seconds before Abby walked in. He narrowed his eyes as Shelby’s intentions were suddenly clear. “You saw her coming.”

She shrugged.

“Goddamn.” He jammed his hands through his hair for the second time as Abby’s stunned, pale face flashed through his mind. “Why did you
do
that?”

“Because I wanted to see what I just did for myself. You two have a thing.” She rushed forward, giving him a shove. “Why did you come back here and throw her in my face?”

“Throw her in your face?” He sidestepped her as she moved in again. “We hardly leave the farm. If you didn’t come around all the damn time...” He clenched his jaw, turning away, staring out the window as he braced his hands on the frame, struggling to gather his patience. As much as he wanted to throw Shelby’s ass out into the cold, he couldn’t. She was as pissed as he was. Nothing good happened when Shelby was angry.

“Why are you doing this?” Her voice radiated with pain. “Why do you want to hurt me like this?”

He gripped the wood tighter, sighing. How many times had he heard the same tired line in the same wounded tone? “I don’t want to hurt you, Shelby. I never have.” He turned, facing her, hoping they could settle this once and for all. “I don’t want to keep going round and round.”

She reached up, touching his cheek as she looked in his eyes. “The night you left. You never let me explain. That thing you thought you saw with Rod was nothing. He didn’t mean anything. We were fighting all the time, and I was lonely. It was just a hug. I still love you, Jerrod.”

“I don’t feel the same way.” He grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away, blowing out a breath. Shelby’s embrace with her co-worker had been the perfect excuse to walk away from something he’d wanted out of almost from the beginning, especially when he was fairly certain she had staged the whole thing. “You and me, we’re over. We tried to make things work. They didn’t.”

“Because you walked in when I was hugging Rod.”

He shook his head. “Rod was the least of our problems.”

“How can you say that? We were happy.”

Did she not remember the constant arguments and days on end where neither of them spoke to the other? “No, Shelby, we weren’t. We would’ve come to an end eventually. You standing in our living room in another man’s arms just brought it around sooner. You need to move on.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she laughed bitterly. “The way you have?”

“Abby’s my friend.”

“Give me a break. Friends don’t look at each other the way you two do.”

He squeezed the back of his neck as the truth hit the mark, realizing he was doing a crappy job of concealing his feelings. “We work together.”

“Right. The dedicated son and his friendly office manager taking a much-needed break at the Quinn Family Farm. You’re a hell of a team player.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets as Shelby worked his last nerve, worrying that she wouldn’t be letting this obsession with Abigail go. “I don’t know what you think you’re seeing between me and Abby, but there’s nothing there. I’m not going to keep going over this with you.”

She swiped at her cheeks. “When did you turn into such an asshole?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

“The day you packed your things and walked away.”

“I had to go. We both know it.”

“You could’ve taken me with you. You could’ve gotten me the hell out of this town.”

He crossed his arms at his chest. “You’re more than capable of doing that yourself. You’re a good journalist, Shelby. You can go anywhere you want and make it.”

“Anywhere as long as it’s not with you.”

“That’s right.”

“Bastard,” she hissed.

Enough was enough. Nothing was going to get solved this way; it probably never would. “Why don’t you go home and cool off for awhile?”

She glared. “You’ve got nerve, I’ll give you that. I hate you, Jerrod Quinn. I
hate
you!” She stormed to the door, slamming it behind her.

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and closed them, weary to the bone. Shelby exhausted him. She always had, with her constant demands and vile tantrums. He was rid of her for now, but she would be back soon enough with her crocodile tears and empty apologies. God, he just wanted her to stay away, but he would have to put up with her mercurial moods and endless need for drama until he and Abby left for the trial. Hopefully she would go back to town and focus on her job instead of him or Abby, but he doubted it. He would give Timmy a call and have him distract her for a while. His brother could do his part to keep Abby safe. God knows he’d tried.

The floorboards creaked above his head as Abby walked around her room, pacing, he knew. She was a pacer when she was upset. Steaming out a long breath, he scrubbed at his face again, trying to figure out how the hell to fix this. Shelby left a mess with her selfish disregard, and he needed to clean it up. If he’d had any inkling as to what she’d been up to, he would’ve ended her game before it began.

Starting up the steps, he searched for the right words, especially since he and Abby had yet to talk about last night. She’d been out in the barn with Uncle Jimmy before he had a chance to pull her aside and explain. He stopped outside her door and knocked. “Abby.”