“Your mother had no idea about your father? The horrible things he did?”
I shook my head. “She knew he wasn’t the man she thought she’d married, I think. But she had no idea of his twisted ego. He hid it well, but once she died, he let it out full strength. He liked me knowing what he did. What he was capable of. She did what he told her to do, aside from loving me. That was the rule she broke of his that he never forgave. Me before him. Then she had the gall to die and stick him with my care.” I sighed. “I think, to be honest, she was better off dead.”
“What about you, though? Were you better off without her?”
“No,” I snapped. “You know that.” I leaned forward. “I know what you’re trying to do, Abby, and it isn’t going to work. We’re not talking about me anymore. Tell me what’s going on.”
Now it was her turn to look uncomfortable. She was silent for a moment, twisting the end of her pink streak over and again, tugging on her hair just hard enough to feel pain, so she could concentrate on something other than the horrific moment she was living through. She had done that for all the years I’d known her. She told me once at times it was the only way she could keep herself from screaming when she was younger. I let her gather her thoughts, knowing she would tell me the truth. She always did.
“My mother came to see me,” she finally admitted, not meeting my eyes.
I was out of my chair, gripping the sides of the desk. “Who the hell let her in the building? She isn’t allowed in there. She isn’t allowed to be near you.”
She shook her head, her eyes wide. “She didn’t come into the building, Linc. She—” Abby swallowed heavily “—she was waiting for me in the underground parking lot of my building when I got home.”
The implications of her words hit me. Her mother knew where she lived.
“You’re moving. This week.”
She didn’t acknowledge my words, but a tremor went through her. “It was such a shock, seeing her. It’s been so long, for a moment, I didn’t recognize her.”
I moved around the desk and sat beside her, taking her hand. “What did she want?”
“Money. She saw an article about you and saw me in the background of the picture they used.”
I frowned. “You are never in the pictures.” I approved every photo, making sure she was never around when cameras were being used.
“I think this was taken without us knowing. It’s an office shot. I’m not even looking at the camera, barely even in the shot, but my mother recognized me.”
“Abby, I’m sorry.” I had promised to always protect her, and I had failed.
She squeezed my hand. “Not your fault, Linc. Anyway, she saw the picture and tracked me down. She followed me and, somehow, a couple of days later got into the garage and waited for me. She informed me that if I lived in such a swanky place and had a job working for someone as wealthy as you, I could spare her some money.” Her voice began to tremble. “After all, I owed her.”
“The fuck you do,” I snarled out. “You owe her nothing, and she’s getting nothing.” When Abby didn’t meet my eyes, I groaned. “Tell me you didn’t give her any, Abby. She’ll keep coming back.”
She pulled her hand away and stood. She paced back and forth across the room, her hair an endless loop between her fingers. Then she stopped and stared at me. “When I told her to go to hell and stay there, she smiled. Just smiled. It was the fucking scariest smile I’ve ever seen.” Tears glimmered in her eyes, shocking me. Despite what she had been through, it was rare I ever saw Abby cry. She was too strong, so I knew the next thing out of her mouth was going to be bad.
“She said no problem. Then she paused and said perhaps I wanted to reconsider. When I told her I didn’t think so, she said fine.”
“And?” I demanded.
Tears ran down Abby’s cheeks. “She told me Carl got out of prison early for good behavior. She told me she would tell him I said hi and perhaps he’d drop over for a visit.”
Curse words I rarely used flew from my mouth. I stood, enraged, disgusted, and frightened. What kind of human being did something like that to their own flesh and blood?
Abby pressed her hand to her mouth. “He’s out, Linc. She’s going to tell him where I am. I-I’m so scared—”
She didn’t finish her sentence before the sobs began. I was across the room, yanking her snug into my arms and holding her. Violent tremors racked her body, and I pulled her tighter.
“He’s never getting near you. Ever. I promise you that, Abby. I’m here for you.” I dropped a kiss to her head. “I’m not leaving you alone, sweetheart. I promise.”
A noise made me look up, and I saw Sunny, standing frozen in the doorway. She stared at me—at the woman I was holding, her mouth agape, hurt written across her face. I knew what it looked like. That she had heard the words I’d just uttered. I stared back at her, torn. I couldn’t abandon Abby, but I couldn’t allow Sunny to think that, once again, I had lied to her. I shook my head, frantically trying to convey with my eyes the words I couldn’t yell out.
But I didn’t have the chance. Before I could do anything, Sunny was gone. The door shut, and her rapid footsteps faded away. I heard the crunch of the gravel indicating she was running down the driveway and away from me.
And there was nothing I could do to stop her.
10
Sunny
I came out of the kitchen to find the shop deserted. I frowned, a sudden frisson of fear running through my chest.
Where was Linc?
Shannon came from the stockroom, a large bag of flour in her arms. “Oh hey, boss. Got that supplier sorted out?”
“Yes,” I replied, distracted, heading to the window, my fear growing when I saw Linc’s car was gone.
“Michael said to tell you those towels will be back tomorrow. Oh, and that Linc guy had to meet someone up the hill. He wanted to tell you, but I said not to interrupt. He asked you to call him when you could.”
My chest loosened at her words, and internally, I shook my head at my foolishness. I checked my watch and flipped the sign to closed. It was a little early, but the day was done, and luckily, I called the shots.
I had one more task to do and then I would call Linc.
Time passed quickly, and by the time I finished my task it had been over an hour and a half. Rather than call Linc, I decided to go up to the house and surprise him. It was obvious being in that house made him tense, and he might like the distraction.
As well as the surprise I made him.
My stomach dipped as I walked up the hill toward the house Linc grew up in. I had always hated the ostentatious look of it when I lived here as a teenager—and when I had moved back. It towered over our small town like a beacon of wealth and privilege no one else could hope to attain. I had only been inside it once when Linc and I were young. His father was away on a business trip, and Linc asked me to go to his house. He had taken me on a tour, showing me the massive structure room by room. So many of them were empty. Others felt staged. The family room with the big TV no one watched. The formal dining room with its gleaming table and silver that sparkled under the lights that was never sat in.