Hard Silence (16 page)

The blood left Abby’s face as she stayed in her chair.

“One dance.” He tugged her to her feet and kept hold of her icy fingers. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know how.”

He looked at the crowded floor and then met her frightened stare. Making a quick decision, he led her the other direction, into the hallway. They were alone, and the music was still audible.

Jeff kept her hand and put his other on her waist. “Put your hand on my shoulder.” She was stiff in his arms, but all it did was call his attention to her muscles and narrow waist. “Relax, darlin’. It doesn’t hurt. Close your eyes and listen to the beat. Hear it? One. Two. Three. Four.” He counted over it a few more times and inhaled, getting a heady hit of her perfume. “Now. Back. Right. No. Go right with your left foot.”

She stepped on his foot and struggled to get free. “I’m sorry. I can’t. Just go—”

“You can do anything you set your mind to. Try it again. Back with your right. Step left—no right, with your left foot. Forward with your left. Step right—wait.” He cringed as he stepped on her toes—again. “Left with your right.” He exhaled and ran his fingers across the lace on her dress. “Hang on a minute. How are your toes?”

When Abby didn’t answer, he looked down and became fascinated by how the low light in the hallway caught the colors in her hair as she shook her head. She was trembling under his hands. Certain he’d swung too hard again, Jeff took a small step backward and prepared to apologize. Then he heard her giggle.

“You’re
really
bad at this.”

He sighed in relief as he pulled her close. “I’m a little distracted.” Even here, indoors and in the darkness, she smelled like sunshine. His jitters dissolved, fizzing until he was pounds lighter and years younger. He nudged her away. “Back up and watch.” He looked into her eyes and mimicked the proper steps he’d been trying to coach her through. “See? Box.”

“Oh! I thought they called it that because it looked like boxing.”

“I guess it does.” He offered her his hand, and some primal part of him roared when she took it without objecting. “Close your eyes. Find the beat. And... One, two, three four.” He counted as they stepped. And again. Then he stopped counting and inched her closer. With every
one
, he closed the distance until there was no space between them. Her breaths warmed his neck in time with her heels tapping on the floor. Her back muscles flexed under his hand, her leg brushed his, her fingers tightened on his shoulder—and with every step his mouth watered as his heart thudded in time with the music.

By the time the song ended, she was still shaking, but she was smiling too. “Thank you.”

He gathered her close as the music started again. “You’re welcome. Now, just relax and sway. Follow me.” When she dropped her head to his shoulder, he smoothed his hand down her back and settled it at the top of her ass. He moved it higher when every twitch of her hips made his fingers ache to explore. It wouldn’t pay to get distracted. He had questions to ask. “How did you get to this age without dancing?”

“Would you want to dance with the weird girl who never talked?”

“It’s not so bad.” His steps faltered as her words registered. School dances were a part of growing up. In his hometown, everyone’s first dance had doubled as their first
date
. If Abby had never danced... Oh God.

He tiptoed into the subject. “The first girl I ever dated was Amy King. I was fourteen and we went to a freshman mixer. We spent the whole night across the room from each other, afraid to slow dance.”

“She missed out.”

“Not on the important stuff. She was my first kiss, too.”

“Amy and I have something in common,” she whispered.

Jesus, God in heaven. “Actually, you don’t. Amy had kissed a lot of guys. She was
fast.
” He pulled away so she could see his smile. “It’s one of the reasons I asked her out.”

“Then I’m very slow.”

First date, first dance, first kiss—first orgasm up against a wall in her stable. His blush flamed from his neck to his hairline. He’d picked a hell of a time to shave. It worsened when he thought about all the other firsts he’d experienced. Sex at seventeen had been a disaster since neither he nor his girlfriend had known much. But now? The first time with Abby would be incredible. He’d be the only—

There was a big difference between
first
and
only
.

“We need to talk, darlin’. Why don’t we get Evan and go home?”

* * *

Evan was asleep when they got to the nursing home, and thankfully he stayed that way. Jeff divided his time between watching the road and watching Abby in the passenger seat. Her brows were gathered in a frown, like she was thinking too hard, and she worried the fringe on her wrap between her fingers.

He caught her hand and practically arm-wrestled her to keep hold of it. “
Slow
is nothing to be ashamed of.”

She nodded half-heartedly as if she didn’t believe him.

Of all the women he’d dated, she had the right to expect everything from him. Instead, she was sitting there stewing about how this was all her fault.

Jeff parked the car in the garage, and she slid out the door. “I’ll open the house if you’ll get Evan.”

He was torn between going in first to make sure she was safe and protecting her from straining her back by wrestling with an unconscious eight-year-old. In the end, he gave up and carried Evan to his room. After tucking him into bed, Jeff stared at the pictures lining the walls. He and Evan had taped photographs of the Chicago skyline and various landmarks around the room. While they’d labeled the names of the buildings, Jeff had told him stories about watching Cubs games in Wrigley Field.

Those games made him feel like he was in Chicago more than anything else in the city. They also made him realize what he was missing. Before it had been the guys with their gray-haired dads. Now Jeff’s chest tightened at the imagined torture of going alone and watching families enjoy the game.

His apartment was indicated with a big blue arrow, and his office building was marked with a red one. He could walk the route from memory, knew where to get the best coffee, the coldest beer, and the greasiest pizza. Even here in the quiet, he could imagine the hum of his lab full of techs and equipment working to solve every mystery brought to them, researching to improve techniques. It was home.

Easing into the chair he usually sat in to read bedtime stories about hunting monsters, Jeff watched Evan sleep. It was the only time the kid was still and quiet. He was already so different from the bruised survivor in the hospital, and Jeff was proud of the role he’d had in the improvement. He’d been able to help a living person.

But the majority of the credit went to Abby, who’d worked hard to overcome her own nature to give the boy a home. He was a testament to her capacity for love, just like Butcher in the stable.

The thought of leaving this little boy—leaving her—squeezed Jeff’s lungs tight. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with his thumbs, trying to put his thoughts into order, trying to force logic and reason to function. It didn’t work.
Aw, damn. Damn, damn, damn.

Abby was waiting on him when he walked into the living room. He pulled an ottoman in front of her chair and sat facing her, wondering how to start.

She did it for him. “Please don’t worry about this.”

Don’t
worry
?

“You kissed me and taught me to dance. I don’t expect you to change your plans.”

Why didn’t she?

“I did more than kiss you.” And he’d thought about little else but doing
that
again. Hell, he’d spent most of the evening imagining her naked. “Did I scare you?”

“Don’t treat me like a little girl. I’m not naïve.” She stood, smiling. “We’re friends who got carried away.”

He’d made a variant of her speech on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t escape the feeling that she was patting him on the ass and sending him home. And he wasn’t sure he liked it. At all. “What the hell is going on?”

Sure enough, she opened the door. “We had a great time, and you’re going home. I’ll send Evan up tomorrow for baseball practice.” A chorus of night bugs came in with the breeze. “Good night, Jeff.”

That sounded an awful lot like goodbye. Jeff stood and blinked at her, knowing he should be happy about the lack of drama, her understanding of the situation—but he wasn’t. However, he recognized the stubborn tilt to her chin. If he argued now, she’d just dig in her heels. So he pushed the screen door out of his way. “Good night.”

Chapter Fifteen

Abby stood on the edge of the river, listening as Jeff and Evan rambled along the border of the thicket, cracking sticks and stopping to talk about everything. It always took twice as long for them to make the trek, but she didn’t mind waiting. Evan’s persistent questions, his curiosity and his enthusiasm, warmed her heart. Jeff’s patient, quiet answers, his laughter, warmed everything else.

She shaded her eyes in the late afternoon sun and watched as they appeared on the opposite shore. As with every day this week, Jeff’s smile faded the moment he saw her. Knowing she had little time for her fix, she greedily stared at everything from the way the sunlight glanced off the silver in his hair, down his lean frame, to his sneakers.

This would be her last glimpse of him until tomorrow’s exchange. He’d nod and wave, the way people greeted strangers, and then disappear the minute Evan was safe on her side of the water.

It was the way it was supposed to be. He wanted honesty, and she couldn’t give it to him. He deserved it, and that made keeping it from him so much harder. And, when she was with him, she forgot to be afraid. That would seal his fate.

No. This was better. Let him stay on his side, disappointed. Let him go back to Chicago and find some beautiful woman and have impossibly pretty children. At least he’d be safe.

Evan started across, hopping from stone to stone. Abby was intent on watching his feet when she realized Jeff was following him across. Resisting the urge to primp, she waited on him to arrive.

She scooped Evan into a hug, stealing some courage as she filled her lungs with the smells of summer only Evan would have. Sweat, dirt and the grilled burgers Jeff had made for lunch. He wriggled free and went to play on the riverbank, giving her no reason to delay Jeff.

His smile was as frail as she felt. “I have to go out of town for a few days on business, but I should be back in time for his game,” he said, as if going through agenda items. “And he probably won’t be hungry tonight. He ate his weight in burgers.”

“Hey, Abby,” Evan called.

“They smelled good,” she said as she stroked Toby’s soft fur, hot in the sunshine.

The smile vanished, and a blush crept up his neck. “You could’ve come. I bought veggie ones.”

“Abby?” Evan asked.

She shook her head. “It’s better this way.”

“For who?” Jeff gritted the words out. “You can’t tell me you like being exiled down here.”

“Abby?” Evan persisted, tugging on her arm.

“Evan,” Jeff barked. He put his finger to his lips. “Shh.”

How many times had she seen Wallis make that same gesture? Over her stepfather’s shoulder, across the room when they were in a crowd, as she’d dropped her off at school. Their own morbid code of secrets and threats.

“Don’t do that to him,” she snapped. Bending double, she looked the little boy in the eye. “Jeff and I are talking, Ev. It isn’t polite to interrupt. What do you need?”

“Can I go start my chores?” he asked.

“You can feed the dogs, the chickens and the barn cat. And use the basket to get eggs. Come here first.” She pulled the tube of sunscreen from her back pocket.

“Leave him be,” Jeff grumbled. “He’s already slicker than a greased pig.”

She waggled the bottle at him. “It prevents skin cancer.”

“I know that. But he’ll probably get something worse from all the chemicals you’re smothering him in.” He snatched the bottle away from her. “Go on, Ev. Abby and I need to talk.”

Toby pressed close to her, and Abby looked into his big brown eyes. It wasn’t fair for him to fight Tug for food later. “Go with Evan, boy.”

She watched him race up the hill, and soon the sounds of barks and giggles drifted back to her. Using the joy she got from that, she faced Jeff alone. “I don’t. Interfere. With you.”

He handed her the tube. “Sorry, but boys
need
a sunburn. A little pink won’t hurt him.” He grinned. “You must’ve had some kind of mother.”

Abby’s joints locked. “What?”

“I’m just saying, women usually mother the way they were—”

The summer after Connie’s death, my
mother
kept me from sunburns by shoving me into a closet and locking me in the dark. The rest of the time, she didn’t give a shit where I was or what happened to me. I think she
wanted
something bad to happen to me. I think she prayed for it with every breath she didn’t spend on herself.

“I am
nothing
like her,” she snarled. Too late, she realized the slip. For a man who studied behavior, she might as well have been wearing a sign.

“Shit,” Jeff muttered.

Yep. Great big neon sign.
I had a lousy childhood.

“Is that why you’re doing this to me?” He stepped closer, his face softening as understanding lit his eyes. “Pushing me away, hiding from me? Because she—”

Bile boiled in Abby’s throat.
I’m hiding because you’re safer if I do. Take Evan and run before it’s too late. Leave me alone.
The words danced on her tongue, leaving icy footprints. She was so tired of being alone, of being cold and isolated. She wanted to be normal, to have a lifetime of passionate kisses and sarcastic conversations. She wanted to watch Evan grow into the young man Jeff could help him become.

The words changed—
don’t leave me,
please help me
—but she swallowed them, too. He’d do it, she knew he would. That’s what he did. But he’d pay for that help, and, even if he didn’t, he’d resent her for as long as he lived.

“You were. The one. Who was. Upset.” She glared at him when he shook his head. “I could see it in your face.”

“There was a lot going on in my brain,” he hedged as he shoved one hand into his pocket and ran the other back through his hair. “Abby, guys like me don’t expect to be someone’s first anything.”

Guys like him. Guys who were used to more sophisticated women who had normal jobs and decent families. Women who hadn’t been shoved in a closet and cheated out of affection. He deserved a normal girl. “I’m sorry,” she said as she turned to leave.

“Wait a goddamned minute,” he snapped as he grabbed her wrist. “We’re in the middle of a conversation. Do
not
do that to me.”

Everything was about what she was doing to him. What about her? What about how she felt empty and lonely without him to talk to? That she’d spent every day listening to him and Evan play in his yard? Or sat at her desk and stared at the overstuffed chair in her office, imagining him sitting there with his glasses perched on his nose while he worked? Or, like now, when a simple touch broke every defense she’d spent years creating, that she’d have to recreate once he was out of her life.

He was going to leave her changed. She’d known when she’d sat next to him at the dance, when she’d held the door for him to leave. She cared far too much to lose him. And she was going to lose him either way.

I’m doing this for you. I’m trying to be good and do the right thing. As right as I can manage, and you’re messing everything up in my head.

Abby planted her feet and yanked her arm, so desperate to be free that she almost fell over when he snatched his hand back like she’d burned him.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I can’t even touch you right.”

The look on his face broke her heart, and she reached for one last weapon in her arsenal. Limited truth. She’d remind him of the obstacles and let him know she really was thinking of him. “You did fine until you found out I was a virgin with a shitty childhood.” She took a step backward. “You don’t deserve this.”

He pursued her, taking a step that mirrored hers, not cornering her but giving her no quarter. “What does that mean?”

“You said it. Yourself. Guys like you.” When his frown didn’t fade, when he didn’t walk away, frustration loosened her tongue. “You’ve dated a lot.”

“Yeah. So?”

“You deserve a normal girl,” she said. “Someone who can go to a party.”

“Like you did.”

“Someone who can dress up.”

“Like you did.”

“Who can spend time with your friends.”

“Like you do.”

“Who has a normal job.”

He grinned. “Like you.”

Abby swallowed a deep breath. “Who won’t disappoint you.”

“Like you.” He closed the distance between them.

His faith in her stole her breath and tempted her to believe him, but she knew he was incredibly wrong. His fingers teased hers until she relented and let him take her hand. She couldn’t help it—didn’t want to help it.

“I was embarrassed, baby. I just sort of bowled into your life and coerced you into everything.”

“I’m not a baby,” she scolded. “I knew exactly what I was doing.” He needed to remember that. She wasn’t someone he could save.

“Duly noted,” he said, smirking.

Before she could stop him, he covered her lips with his. Tingles shot through her body, like the first time she’d accidentally touched an electric fence. God, how she wished he could save her.

Just as she parted her lips in invitation, he lifted his head. His lashes shaded his eyes as he murmured, “Kiss me first this time.” He ran his finger back and forth under her chin. “Indulge your curiosity.”

How the hell was she supposed to do that? But the longer she stood there, the longer he stared, waiting with his beautiful lips quirked into a half smile.

“It’s just like killing spiders,” he said. “Act brave until you are.”

Well, first things first. She’d need something to keep her balance. She put her hands on his shoulders and let the cotton soothe her nerves before she traced her fingers across his collarbones. His Adam’s apple bobbed, calling attention to his throat, and she ran her finger down his skin, then her hand along the column of his neck, petting him like she did Hemingway, skimming her fingers across his jaw and around his ear until she burrowed them into his hair.

Next she traced her tongue along the same path, delighting in the salty taste of him, the scratch of his stubble, and the way his hands shook on her hips.

“I like you without a beard,” she whispered into his ear.

“Uh-huh,” he panted.

She brushed an open-mouthed kiss against his lips, taking his breath deep into her lungs and letting it thaw a week’s worth of loneliness. Another, then another, feeling him smile as his fingers slid to her ass and he tightened his hold.

When she relented, stroking her tongue against his, Jeff’s entire body twitched. She withdrew and did it again, sampling the textures and satisfying their hunger. Only then did he move his hands, running them up her back, combing his fingers through her hair, skimming them along her jaws. He surrounded her, overwhelmed her, until all she knew was his gentle strength and the hard body against hers.

“Did you make up?” Evan called from the hill.

“Yeah,” Jeff gasped as he pulled free. “Think so.”

“Good,” he chirped, his voice fading as he walked away.

Abby stayed in Jeff’s arms, feeling him tremble—or maybe it was her. “Are we ever not going to do that?”

“Why? Would you prefer the distracted
not now, I’m working
sort of kiss?”

Yes. If it would leave her less hungry for him, less apt to forget why he should stay away. “Don’t know. Never had one.”

He sighed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I do have to work. I’ll see you when I get back, darlin’. Be safe.”

Abby watched him go, her forehead tingling even as he vanished through the thicket on his side of the river. Bird songs gave way to the first hums of insects at twilight.

She’d been wrong. That last kiss had been more devastating than any previous one. The normalcy of it, the sweetness, and the calm reassurance that he would be back. And the tempting notion that he worried about her was intoxicating. She could get lost in it.

She was lost in it.

* * *

At the end of the evening, Abby tucked Evan into bed and sat watching him sleep. She’d been insane to bring him here. The very act spoke to her success at hiding in plain sight, yet his presence made it impossible to stay concealed. It should have terrified her, but she’d never been happier. Or more tired. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even when she warred over plans for Christmas and the knowledge that they’d be separated by then. They’d have to be. Andy’s trial would be over, he’d be in prison, and some normal family would want a giggling, smart, baseball-playing little boy. It would be best for Evan. She knew that.

But just for a moment, here alone in the dark, she imagined what life might be like. It wasn’t hard, this fantasy. It was an extension of one she had all the time where everyone found out about Wallis and loved her anyway, where she didn’t have to leave her home to avoid everyone’s disappointment and anger at the secrets she’d kept. Now she added Evan to it. Their monsters were banished, and they were happy together here. And then she added Jeff and they became a real family—a mom and a dad, with kids, a dog and a cat. Well, lots of dogs and cats—it was
her
after all.

She turned out his light and rounded the corner. Toby ran ahead of her, growling, his hackles raised. As Abby reached the living room, the security light flashed on, flooding the porch and throwing the person stomping up the steps into shadow.

The grim reaper, come to collect.

Fighting paralyzing panic, Abby pushed her back to the wall, straining for breath. She snapped her fingers. “Toby, go to Evan.”

The dog wavered between protection and obedience.

“Git,” Abby shouted.

Toby ran for the bedroom, where Tug was already yipping and whining in fear. Evan peered around his door.

“Run.”

The front door collapsed in a shower of splinters and the security alarm blared to life. Her world tilted on its axis as the noise deafened her. Already sick with dread, now she was dizzy.

“Run!”

She wheeled back to confront her biggest nightmare, only to come face-to-face with a rail-thin man. One look at his red hair and jailhouse-orange jumpsuit, and she knew he was Andy Gaines.

“Boy,” he bellowed, lunging forward in a wild-eyed stagger. “Get out here. We’re goin’ home.” He had cuffs around one wrist, and a gun in his other hand. He swiped it in her direction. “Shut that racket off, bitch!”