Page 25

Walking to the kitchen I grab my own glass and fill it from the fridge door, leaning my hip against the counter I ask, “He okay?” She looks at me confused, then looks down at the glass in her hand like she’s only just realized it’s there.

“I heard her leave last night,” she whispers. “I just don’t know why. She’s been off since we got here.” She sighs as she rubs small circles at the spot between her eyebrows.

I want to be mad at Abby. I want to be pissed that she took off without a word after already asking her not to do this very thing. But I can’t, I know the emotional beating she’s taken this past week. Hannah doesn’t.

I set my glass down and wrap her in a hug, more for my benefit than hers.

She sniffles a bit. It hits me then, that she’s internalizing it.

“It wasn’t anything you did. Don’t blame yourself.

” I murmur, my voice more gravelly than normal.

She tilts her head up at me with tears threatening to spill any second and asks the one question I can’t answer.

“Do you know something?” Oh hell, I rub a hand down my face, stopping to scratch at my beard. I can’t lie to Hannah.

“Yeah,” I admit, “but it’s not my story to tell.” She steps back, and I clear my throat. “She’ll be okay,” I add. She has to be. “She was just feeling a bit out of control.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but before she can press further, Reed steps up next to her, his arms crossing over his chest as his gaze hardens. His entire demeanor screams, start talking. My hands grip the counter as I take a deep breath. Yeah, this is going to suck.

I open my mouth to say something, but am cut off by the Jaws' theme song. The ringtone I have specifically for Abby. I take a few steps away from them and quickly swipe to answer, “Hello,” I whisper harshly into the phone.

Her shaky inhale and the way her voice cracks as she says “Tatum,” immediately has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

I look over my shoulder at Reed and Hannah who are watching me, eyes heavy with expectation.

Walking further into the living room, I lower my voice so I don’t sound the alarm.

“Abby,” I hiss, her soft whimper over the line lets me know something happened. “Are you hurt? ”

She takes a few deep breaths before answering, each second increases the fear threatening to drown me. “No, but I'm scared.” I immediately head for the door, grabbing the first set of keys I can find on my way out. I'm in Monroe’s Jeep and pulling out of the driveway before I even respond.

“Where are you?” My chest fills with desperation to get to her as fast as I can.

But I need to know which direction to go before I make a turn that could land her in more danger than she’s in now.

She gives me the name of the gym she’s at, my fingers flying over the screen as I put it in the car's GPS.

As soon as it gives me the directions, my foot slams down on the gas.

I made the drive in half the time it told me it’d take.

Coming to an abrupt stop, I throw the car in park and swing the door open.

Jumping out, I rush toward the front of the building.

The second my hand lands on the door handle, I rip it open, my eyes scan the place until I find Abby sitting in a black metal chair to the left, eyes trained on a piece of paper.

Three steps is all it takes to get to my girl. Dropping to my knees in front of her, I place my hands on her cheeks, slowly tilting her head up so I can look her in the eyes. They’re red-rimmed and swollen, but what hits the hardest, is there's no life in them.

The brown is a darker hue than normal, her shoulders are pulled up to her ears, the tension she’s holding on to is evident in the way her body vibrates against me.

“Hey, I’m here. You’re safe.” I say in a voice so soft I almost can’t believe it’s mine.

“What happened?” I look over my shoulder to make sure there’s no one behind me.

She doesn’t say anything, just holds out the piece of paper for me to take .

I unfold it and begin to read. My teeth grind with every word, a wildfire roaring to life inside me. “I told you, you can run, but you can’t hide, little mouse. I’ll get what’s mine in due time.”

Someone followed her. Someone’s been following her.

They waited until she was alone to deliver whatever this is.

I pocket the note and stand as my hands ball into fists.

I don’t even think before I throw a punch at the cinderblock wall.

The pain is a welcome sensation. I want to burn the world to the ground to find whoever this is.

Whoever is dumb enough to threaten someone with an entire hockey team and a few soccer players behind her.

Or maybe it’s someone close enough to know she hasn’t told them about this.

And that’s a thought that makes me even more feral.

Her hand grabs mine and examines the damage.

Blood runs over the knuckles, but it doesn’t seem to phase her.

She leads me back to where she was sitting, silently pushing me down onto the chair.

She pulls a first-aid kit out of her bag and starts to clean up the evidence of my anger.

“You carry around a first-aid kit?” I joke as I try to focus on anything but the sting of antiseptic in the open wounds.

She looks up at me through her lashes, and I realize how defeated she looks.

There’s no hint of amusement, no sarcastic remarks, no reaction at all.

I let her finish before I pull her into my lap, draping her legs over mine.

She tucks her head beneath my chin, and I lower mine, locking her in place. “Did you see anyone?” She shakes her head but doesn’t speak. “Come on. We can’t stay here.” I whisper. “Can you drive if I follow you?”

Her head tilts back, eyes filling with tears as she looks at me, her hands tremble in her lap, as her chest begins to slowly heave until I’m concerned she’s one breath away from a panic attack, “No, Ta te.” Her eyes dart around the front of the gym before they land back on mine.

She whispers, “Please don’t leave me.” And it shatters what was left of my heart.

“Okay, okay.” I run my hand up and down her spine a few times before continuing, “I’ll drive your car and call Monroe to come get his.

” She nods and tucks herself back into me.

Her deep pulls through her nose and quiet exhales through her mouth seem to be doing nothing.

I need to get her out of here before she ends up having a full-blown breakdown in public, she’d never forgive me.

Instead of calling, I send a group text to Reed and Monroe letting them know I have her, and she’s safe.

But someone needs to come get Monroe’s car, and we probably won’t be back for a while.

I loop my arm through her bag and stand, bringing them both with me.

Her legs wrap around my waist like a koala as I carry her out of the gym.

Looking around, I don’t see anyone or anything out of the ordinary.

But the sun has just started coming up, it’s not bright enough to see clearly.

Placing her in the passenger seat, I pull the seat belt over her body, clicking it into place before tossing her gym bag in the back.

I make quick work of rounding the front of the car and hopping into the driver's seat, quickly pulling out of the parking spot she had backed into. Her reasoning is always, “It puts me in a defensive position, should I find myself in trouble. I don’t have to try to maneuver out of it in reverse.” At this moment I’m thankful she did, and I will never tease her for it again.

I take her in the opposite direction of the cabin, driving toward the next town. Do I have a plan? No, I’m just desperate to get her somewhere safe. Somewhere there’s a coffee shop and maybe I can coax her into talking with an insane amount of sugar.

“Tate,” she says, her voice clipped. “Tatum, stop the car,” she says quickly. My foot slams on the break, heart hammering as I check the mirrors repeatedly as I scan for any sign of danger. As soon as we come to a slow roll, she throws the door open, leans out, and takes a few ragged breaths.

“Are you okay?” I throw her car in park and unbuckle my seatbelt. Keeping a hand on her shoulder so she doesn’t fall out, I unbuckle hers as I move over the center console and drop onto the seat behind her. She’s shaking violently, I’m not sure if it’s from fear or adrenaline. Maybe both.

One hand runs the length of her spine as the other wraps gently around her waist anchoring her to me. “I got you,” I say softly. She inhales a few more times until there’s nothing left but a wrecked, utterly broken Abby leaning against my side.

I pull her gently further into the car so I can shut the door, hitting the lock button, I cradle the back of her head as she shudders.

“Look at me.” She does, and I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.

Her eyes are hollow, lifeless. All those times I’ve wished for her to shut up, now the only thing I want to hear is her voice. “What do you need?” I rasp.

She leans her head against my shoulder, her body still trembling against mine. When she speaks, it’s so soft I almost miss it. “You.”

One word. One single word and my entire world shifts, knocking it clean off its axis.

I squeeze my eyes shut, exhaling sharply through my nose.

I was only kidding myself thinking I could let her walk away.

That I could go back to how things were before .

Because right now, with her pressed against me like she belongs here, I know.

I, Tatum Wilder, am done for.