Page 14 of Absolution (Favorite Malady Trilogy #3)

ABIGAIL

I stroll down the long driveway that leads from the road to the beach. A car dropped me off at the gates to Meadows’ family’s property, and it’ll take me at least twenty minutes to walk to their private beach.

I don’t mind. I take my time, sinking into the beauty of my woodland surroundings. Live oaks frame the drive, elegantly curving branches creating a lush green canopy overhead. It shields me from the worst of the heat, even if humidity makes sweat bead on my brow.

As I walk, a silly smile curves my lips.

I recall the drive down to the beach that carried me to my wedding ceremony three days ago.

Dane had ordered a sleek black sedan to take me from The Magnolia to meet him for our private union.

I’d stared out the windows to take in as much of my surroundings as possible, but I can see everything more clearly on foot.

I lift my phone and capture dozens of pictures. I’m planning to paint an entire series of this property to commemorate our wedding day, and I can’t wait to complete my work and surprise Dane.

Meadows was nice enough to allow me access to the property again without telling my husband.

My husband.

My smile widens, and I hum a happy tune as I approach the beach.

I take more pictures of the gently rolling sand dunes, which are accented by wispy fronds of grass. I get closer to one of them, capturing some macro shots with the pristine beach in the background.

If my lease for the gallery I’ve selected goes through, I’ll have a space worthy of displaying the paintings from the wedding series. I don’t intend to sell any of them, but I want to showcase the day I married the man I love.

For now, my other landscapes will have to be enough to fill the space while I work on a new collection.

I practically bounce down the boardwalk, giddy with happiness. Everything I’ve ever wanted is within my reach. Soon, I’ll have my own gallery in Charleston.

And a love I never dared to dream of promises a blissful future.

I kick off my shoes when I reach the end of the boardwalk and step onto the sand with bare feet. They sink into it, the fine white grains almost unbearably hot on my soles. I quicken my pace, making my way closer to the surf where the sand has been cooled by the salt water.

A pretty, purple scallop shell catches my attention, and I pick up the small treasure as a souvenir. I’ll put it on my chest of drawers alongside my unicorn collection and stuffed veggies.

A small giggle bubbles from my chest at the thought of them in Dane’s bedroom.

Our bedroom.

He’s accepted my whimsy into his life, and more than once, I’ve caught him staring at my keepsakes with a smug smirk, as though he covets the small treasures as much as I do.

Dane Graham loves unicorns. It’s ridiculous and endearing enough to make my heart ache.

He still hasn’t said he loves me, and I don’t think he ever will.

But I’m at peace with that. His possessiveness and protectiveness are more fiercely powerful than any love I ever imagined before meeting him.

I accept my psychopathic husband for all that he is, even the dark parts. I have enough love in my heart for both of us, and he seems greedy for it.

My love for him swells in my chest to the edge of pain, and a silly, girlish urge overtakes me. I use the purple scallop shell to carve our names into the sand and manage to take a quick picture before the surf washes it away.

You will remember every detail about this day. I recall Dane’s fierce command when he claimed me on the porch.

It’s not stormy today, but I intend to imprint every aspect of this beach onto my memory.

I decide I need a wider view of the vista, so I walk back up to the boardwalk and climb the stairs.

My heart leaps into my throat when I see Ron striding down the aged wooden planks, making his way toward me. His round features are fixed in a boyish smile, but fear spikes through me despite his disarming expression.

“What are you doing here?” I try to demand, but my throat is too tight.

I’m utterly alone out here with a sexual predator.

He lifts his hands in a show of contrition as he closes the distance between us. “I just want to talk. You’re a hard lady to pin down.”

My phone is still in my hand from taking pictures, and I immediately find Dane’s contact information. The call connects, but I only hear it ring once before Ron lunges at me. He bats it out of my hand, and the phone goes flying. It cracks as it clatters on the boardwalk, several feet away from me.

He grabs my upper arm, preventing me from reeling away from the sudden, shocking attack. His fingers dig into my flesh hard enough to bruise, and I cry out in alarm.

The friendly smile has dropped from his face, and his lips pull back from his teeth in a snarl.

“Where’s my brother?” he demands.

My mind whirs, and I try to wrench my arm from his cruel grip to no avail.

“Ron’s been missing for weeks,” he growls. “Your friends said you had an altercation with him, and your boyfriend is protective. You know something, don’t you?”

“What?” I can’t make sense of what’s happening. “Let me go, Ron!”

“It’s Billy, you dumb bitch,” he growls.

He yanks me closer, and I smell stale cigarette smoke on his breath. My stomach churns at the visceral memory of the last time this scent suffused my senses: when he cornered me in the laundry room and kissed me.

“What happened to Ron?” he shouts in my face. “I swear to god, if you hurt my brother, I’ll fucking kill you.”

A twin. My fear-soaked brain puts the pieces together.

I’d been shocked to see that Ron was still alive when I ran into him at my building. But it wasn’t Ron at all; it was his brother, looking for him.

My phone is hopelessly out of reach, and even if I could get to it, Dane won’t arrive in time. He doesn’t even know where I am.

I have to save myself.

I’ve done it before. I gather my courage and step closer to Billy so that I can bring my knee up sharply between us.

He’s not prepared for my sudden aggression, so he doesn’t block the blow. He chokes when I kick him squarely in the balls, and his grip loosens on my arm as he doubles over, clutching at his crotch.

I stumble away from him and then break into a sprint. My bare feet pound the boardwalk as I race for the house. I might be able to find a phone inside and call 911.

My breath saws in and out of my lungs, burning my throat.

An unsteady thudding rhythm starts up on the boardwalk behind me, slow and lurching. Billy is coming after me.

Terror grips my chest in a vise, but I force myself to keep breathing as I launch myself up the porch steps. I slam into the front door and grab the knob.

It doesn’t turn.

Locked.

Adrenaline floods my system, and my hands shake as I twist the knob harder, but within a few racing heartbeats, I have to accept that I’m not getting inside. I can’t linger here, or Billy will catch me in less than a minute.

I whirl, and I see that he’s halfway along the boardwalk, limping toward me.

“Come back here, you fucking cunt!” he roars.

I dart off the porch and circle the house, losing sight of Billy. A manicured lawn stretches out behind the mansion, surrounding a massive pool. There’s a small shed beside it, but I immediately dismiss it as a hiding place: too obvious.

Increasing my speed, I sprint for the tree line.

Briars tear at my ankles, and small, errant rocks bruise the soles of my bare feet, but I don’t slow my frantic pace.

I tear through the woods, winding my way around the massive tree trunks in an erratic path.

I can’t risk straying too close to the open drive, so I plunge deeper into the woods.

I hear Billy crashing through the brush behind me, and I swallow a terrified cry. I’m making too much noise as it is.

“Where are you, bitch?” he bellows, but he’s farther away this time. “What did you do to my brother?”

I sprint deeper into the wilderness, ignoring the stinging pain on my legs where the underbrush cuts at me.

My lungs burn, but I can’t slow down. I can’t stop running.

After a while, I can’t hear Billy at all anymore, but the absence of sound only fuels my terror. I can’t get a read on where he is, and my fear response rides me hard. Pure panic rakes at my racing heart.

“Abigail!”

A harsh sob tears from my chest at Dane’s distant roar.

He’s here. He came for me.

I turn toward the sound of his voice, but I don’t dare to call out to him in case Billy hears and gets to me first.

“Abigail!” he thunders, closer now.

I fling myself toward him, hurtling through the woods toward salvation.

My dark god appears, tearing through the brush to get to me. I throw myself at him, and his strong arms close around me, catching me in his protective embrace.

I immediately try to pull away, grabbing at his hand in an effort to drag him to safety along with me. He’s as immovable as a granite statue, but his touch is achingly gentle as he cups my cheek and turns my face to inspect me for signs of injury.

“We have to run,” I wheeze. “He’s coming.”

Dane’s muscles bulge and flex around me. “Who?”

“Ron’s brother,” I manage to gasp. “He’ll kill you if he catches us.”

I can’t let Billy hurt my husband.

Dane scowls, but he doesn’t seem alarmed at the threat.

“I’m getting you out of here,” he growls. “Then I’ll deal with him.”

Now that I’ve stopped running, my legs shake, and all the strength drains from my body. Dane catches me and lifts me up in his arms, holding me close to his chest. He strides through the woods with long, swift strides, carrying me to safety.