Tucker (The Family Simon) (23 page)

Someone had snapped the photo when she’d arrived in the lobby of the hotel. When Tucker had turned to her and scooped her up into his arms. She couldn’t see his face, but oh, the pain on hers was unmistakable and Abby felt all those emotions all over again.

Her throat closed up and she couldn’t swallow.

The news anchor was talking—Abby had the television on mute—and then Abby’s photo disappeared, replaced with a smiling shot of Tucker and Marley on their wedding day.

It was a beautiful picture, and it crushed Abby’s heart.

Oh, God. I can’t do this.

She was about to turn away when new footage appeared. Footage she was hungry for, and instead, she clutched the remote to her chest, biting her bottom lip in an effort to quiet the pain she felt as she watched grainy video of Tucker exiting a van, accompanied by Jack, Teague, and Marley’s parents.

God, he looked so damn tired—even with his aviators on, she could tell. It was in the way his mouth was tight—the way he kept rubbing his chin and tugging on the long ends of his hair.

“Oh, Tucker,” she murmured, near tears. She wanted to be there with him. God, how she needed to touch him.

“Hey,” Cooper said quietly. “Give me that.”

Abby let him take the remote, though her fingers shook so badly she was barely able to hand it off. She turned away from the television, once more eyes drawn to the blackness outside.

“So,” Cooper said. “Your family bar sounds pretty damn good right about now. Let’s go.”

She shrugged and didn’t say anything, because she wasn’t sure she could talk. Abby wanted to crawl into bed and cry her eyes out. She wanted to bury her nose in the sheets and inhale Tucker’s scent. Maybe then she would feel close to him. Maybe then she could feel some kind of peace.

“I think you should make me a drink,” he said.

“Cooper, I don’t know.”

“I do,” he said. “A Mathews special.”

She thought back to the wedding. To that first time she met him and a small smile crept over her face. “A Martini?”

“Nah. I’m more of a Slippery Nipple kind of guy.”

“Why am I not surprised? But that’s a shooter.”

“Huh.” He winked. “Well, I’d like a Slippery Nipple and then you can give me some Sex on the Beach.”

“Sex on the Beach is hard to come by in New York City in the middle of February, but I supposed we could try.”

“I appreciate that.”

Abby exhaled a long shuddering breath and whispered. “Thanks for being here, Cooper.”

He bowed his head. “No problem.”

“You’re a good guy. You know that, right?”

“Don’t be spreading that around.”

Abby sighed. “Why do you want people thinking you’re a dick? Why do you hide behind that?”

Cooper was silent for a few moments, and then he shrugged. “When they think you’re a dick, they usually assume you’re shallow as well. Dick and shallow kind of go hand in hand. That’s a lot of layers of bullshit for someone to peel back, and most people don’t have the time.”

“Would that be so wrong, Cooper? To let someone in?”

Cooper looked irritated, but for whatever reason, Abby wasn’t giving this up. “I mean it Cooper. What are you afraid of?”

He shrugged but said nothing.

Abby gave him a hug and whispered. “One day some woman is going to peel back those layers of bullshit and—“

“And what?”

“And you’re going let her.”

“That’s pretty damn optimistic,” Cooper said.

“I think it’s inevitable.”

“You know what I think is inevitable? Our date. You going to take me to this famous Black Dog pub or what?”

Abby glanced around the empty apartment. Everywhere she looked, she saw Tucker. And as much as that made her feel closer to him, it also was driving her bat shit crazy.

“Okay,” she conceded. “Let’s go.”

Ten minutes later, they hopped in a taxi, both of them avoiding the paparazzi waiting outside of The Essex House.

“How are you doing, Miss?”

Surprised, Abby glanced up at the taxi driver, smiling wanly when she recognized him. His name was John and he’d taken her and Tucker out several times in the past.

Of course he knew who she was. Who Tucker was. And by now, he sure as hell knew who Marley was.

His eyes were kind and his concern genuine.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Less than twenty minutes later, they pulled up outside of The Black Dog. “Shit,” Cooper murmured, reaching into his jacket for the fare.

“What’s going on?”

“There are some photographers outside the bar. Are you sure you want to go inside? I mean, it might get crazy if word gets out that you’re here.”

Something fired off inside Abby. Something hot and pissed off and fed up. “Let them get crazy. I don’t care. They haven’t met my brother Mick and I can guarantee he’s looking for an excuse to let off some steam.”

Cooper chuckled. “Okay then.”

They pushed past the crowd outside the bar and when one of the photographers tried to follow them inside, Cooper, shoved him back. While Abby wasn’t exactly sure what Cooper said to the guy, she knew it wasn’t polite and it sure as hell wasn’t nice. The photographer backed off, and the rest milled around but none of them tried to follow them inside the Black Dog.

The first face she saw when her eyes adjusted to the lighting was Old Joe. His wrinkled, leathery face opened into a wide grin, and she walked up to him, accepting his hug and the kiss on her cheek.

“There’s my girl,” Old Joe said.

“Hey,” she murmured. “Are these guys looking after you?”

“They’re not as pretty to look at, but they keep my mug full.”

“You’re not on the schedule,” Mick said, resting his hip against the bar.

“What can I say?” she replied. “I miss the place.”

Mick and her younger brother Josh were behind the bar, while Lisa was pouring draft for a customer. Lisa glanced up and waved, mouthing, “I’ll just be a second,” before turning back to the guys sitting in front of her.

Huh. Since when did Lisa sling beer at The Black Dog?

“Besides, I’m not here to work,” Abby said, and then punched Cooper in the chest. “But I am here to make Coop a Slippery Nipple. I promised him the full Mathews treatment.”

Mick didn’t bother glancing at Cooper. His dark eyes, so intense and full of worry, settled on her.

“I’m glad you’re here, Abs. I was coming over after my shift.”

Abby slipped behind the bar. “Now you don’t have to.”

Mick cracked a smile. “No. I don’t.” He tossed her a rag and then turned to Cooper, arms crossed over his chest. All business and gruff. “So, which one are you?”

Cooper slid onto the only empty stool at the bar. “I’m the asshole.”

“Huh,” Mick said, while Abby tried to hide a smile. “Good to know.”

The next few hours flew by and there, surrounded by her friends and family, Abby was able to forget, if only for a little while, just how sucktastic her life had become. She made Cooper several Slippery Nipples and had more than a few herself. Sex on the Beach was epic, and then they moved onto Margaritas.

By midnight she was flying high and feeling too damn good. So good in fact at first she didn’t feel her cell vibrate. More than a little drunk, it took some doing to dig it out of her front pocket.

Abby stared at the name on the screen, blinking rapidly because it was blurred.

Tucker.

Shit, were those tears?

Scrubbing at her face, she slid off the stool—nearly falling on her ass and headed toward the stock room. It would be quiet in there, and right now, she needed quiet. Right now she needed sober, but she was working on that.

“Abby!” Her brother stared after her, his eyebrow raised in question. Cooper swiveled around on his stool and Abby held the cell up, mouthing, “Tucker.”

They both nodded, and she hurried through the pool room, not stopping until she closed the door behind her and shut out the noise of the bar. She held the phone up to her ear and slid down the wall until she was on the floor.

She was so scared her hands were shaking.

“Hey,” she said voice scratchy, like she’d swallowed sandpaper.

For a few scary seconds she couldn’t hear anything, and then he was there, in her head. She closed her eyes, felt his warmth and he was right there beside her.

“Miss Mathews,” he said. “You sound like shit.”

Wiping away tears, Abby nodded, which was weird because it wasn’t as if he could see her. “I know. Sorry.” She paused. “You sound tired.”

“I am. It’s been a long few days. Sorry I didn’t call earlier, but I just…God, there’s so much going on here.”

“Don’t apologize, Tucker. I know you’re dealing with a lot. I just wish I could help you.”

“Hearing your voice. It helps.”

She sniffled but didn’t reply because there was a goddamn log stuck in her throat.

“I don’t know where to start,” Tucker said slowly.

God, she just wanted to know. Sucking in a big gulp of air, she tried to control her voice so that it wasn’t so pathetic and shaky. But it was no use. She was falling apart, and she couldn’t get anything out.

“Abby, it’s not her. It’s not Marley.”

“Oh God.” She wrapped her arms around her knees, head cocked to the side so that the cell stayed in place, and she could hear him. “Oh God,” she said again, wincing at the sound of her crazy voice falling like flat stones in the small, enclosed space. God, she was going straight to hell, because her prayers had been answered. Straight. To. Hell.

“Who…How did…how do you know?”

“There’s a lot to process and talk about and there are still a lot of questions. I can’t get into it right now because honestly I have no idea what’s going on. This woman…she had all of Marley’s ID. We don’t know who she is or how she got Marley’s stuff or…”

Her heart dropped all the way to the bottom of her feet. “So, Marley could still be out there?” Good. She sounded like she had her shit together.

“Abby, we just don’t know. We’re waiting for the doctor’s to bring her out of this induced coma they’ve placed her in. We’re hoping once she’s conscious, we’ll get some answers.”

The knife in her heart twisted. It twisted hard and she had to wait a few seconds until she could speak, and then she whispered, “Okay.”
“Babe, I miss you so fucking much.”

“Oh, Tucker.”

“Look, I have to go, but I had to hear your voice, Abby or I was going to go crazy. We have a lot of stuff to talk about…shit,” Tucker’s voice broke, and she knew he was hurting…hurting and confused. A fresh batch of tears fell down her face.

“Tucker, it’s all right. Go and deal with what you need to do over there. You know where I’ll be.”

“Jack and Marley’s parents are returning to the US tomorrow. I’ll be here a few more days, until we figure this out. Teague’s sticking around. I know it’s a lot to take in, but I’ll explain everything when I see you.”

“Okay,” she whispered in the dark. “Tucker?”

“Yeah.”

For a moment, she couldn’t speak and then when the lump cleared her throat, she said softly. “I love you.”

There was static. A buzzing in her ear.

And Abby wasn’t sure if she was relieved or hurt that he hadn’t heard her. But then the static cleared and he was there again. Right there beside her. His voice warm and full of emotion.

“I know, Abby. I just need you to hold on a bit longer and then…and then I can…I’ll see you soon.”

And that was it.

Abby wasn’t sure how long she stared into the darkness, clutching her cell phone to her chest. But it was long enough for her to know that nothing had changed. She was all in with this man. She would fight for him. There was no other option.

There were so many questions, and she had no answers to any of them. But there was one that she knew for certain. Even if the words hadn’t been spoken.

Tucker Simon loved Abby Mathews.

And that’s what was going to get her through.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Three days later, Tucker was running on no sleep and way too much coffee. He was wound up so tight that he’d gone for a run and he’d kept on running. His half-an-hour jog turned into a four-hour escape and by the time he returned to the hotel he and Teague were staying at, he was exhausted.

It was the kind of bone-numbing exhaustion that sleep couldn’t fix. Hell, for all he knew, there was no fixing him.

He was beyond confused, anxious as hell for answers, and at the same time, afraid to hear them.

He’d just entered the lobby of the shabby-looking place they’d called home for the last few days when he spotted his brother near the front desk. Teague was nodding to the manager, and it looked as if they were having an intense conversation.

Pulling his T-shirt out of the back of his shorts, Tucker put it on as he made his way over to them.

“Mr. Simon,” the manager said politely. “I was just telling your brother that we haven’t seen you since breakfast.”

Teague whipped around, his face harsh. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“Out for a run. Is that a goddamn crime?”

“You didn’t take your cell.”

Tucker wiped sweat from his brow, a sarcastic comment bubbling up, but then he froze, stomach clenched.

“Is she…is she talking?”

Teague was already headed outside. “Yeah, Tuck. She’s awake. She’s finally conscious and talking, so get your ass in gear….—We’re headed to the hospital.”

Tucker followed his brother outside where a car was waiting, and they rode to the hospital in silence. He’d been wanting this moment to happen ever since he’d arrived in Havana. But now that he was so close, Tucker wasn’t sure he was ready to face a hard truth.

Or maybe nothing at all. Maybe this woman wouldn’t have any answers.

“You ready for this?” Teague asked when they pulled up to the hospital. Mr. Sanchez was waiting for them, his face calm as always.

Tucker sighed and ran his hand over the thick stubble on his chin. “Nope. I have the feeling that my life is about to change again, and I have no idea if it’s headed in the direction that I want it to.”

He sank back into the seat and closed his eyes for a moment. “God, for the longest time, I wanted Marley alive and well and home with me. It drove me crazy, you know? Thinking that she was out there somewhere. That she needed me. That she was in trouble, and I couldn’t get to her.”