Under the Covers (39 page)

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Authors: Rita Herron

Tags: #Psychology, #Sex Therapists, #Marriage Counselors, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Family & Relationships, #Marriage, #Adult, #Historical, #Authors, #Counseling, #Psychotherapy, #Fiction, #Marriage Counseling, #Love Stories

BOOK: Under the Covers
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"Yeah, we can have a pajama party," Chelsea offered.

Abby hugged her sisters. "No, I'll be okay. But thanks." Abby turned to Victoria. "I appreciate Detective Suarez's help."

"He's pretty cool," Victoria admitted.

"Yeah, he saved our butts that night at the gay bar—"

Chelsea stopped midsentence as if she'd revealed too much. Victoria kicked her.

Abby tapped her foot on the floor. "What are you talking about?"

Chelsea shrugged. "Look, Victoria, it's over now and no harm done, so—"

"We were only trying to help," Victoria added.

"Help? How?" Abby asked.

Chelsea explained about their adventure, of course embellishing the story with all the details about the dinginess and stench of the inside of the holding cell. Then Victoria filled her in on the scene at the strip club.

"Boy, that hooker sure packed a punch." Chelsea rubbed at her still-black eye.

"I can't believe you two," Abby said. "You did all that for me?"

Victoria curved an arm around Abby. "We'd do anything for you, sis."

"Okay, but no more gay bars or fights or stripping."

Chelsea laughed. "All right with me. I just wanted to help, Abby, so you and Victoria wouldn't think I'm such a screwup."

Victoria tucked her hand in Chelsea's arm. "You're not a screwup, Chelsea. We love you just the way you are."

Chelsea blushed and sniffled.

Abby fought the tears but they spilled over anyway. "Come here. I love you guys so much." The three of them gathered in a group hug, vowing the bond of sisterhood would always keep them together.

Men be damned. They had each other.

* * *

Hunter tossed and turned on the prison floor, unable to believe this was happening. The stench of urine and sweat and other body odors he didn't even want to think about filled the dingy cell, the absence of cots or chairs forcing all the inhabitants to sit on the floor like animals. He was convinced that at least two of the prisoners were murderers, one of the others a rapist. A hulking three-hundred-pounder with a Mohawk winked at him and he shuddered.

When he saw his lawyer, he was going to wring his neck for being unattainable when Hunter needed most to attain him.

He folded his arms behind his head and stared at the toilet in the middle of the cell, then at the big Bubba with the bald head and tribal tattoos covering his hairy arms. He had to piss like a crazed bovine, but he'd be damned if he'd whip out his dick and give this thug any ideas. The man looked at him and leered and Hunter forced his gaze to the ceiling. He'd count the cracks and read the obscenities etched on the dirty texture until morning. There was no way he would close his eyes inside this hellhole. No telling what some of these beefy hoodlums might do to him.

By morning, his lawyer had damned well better get him out of here.

Then he had to talk to Shelly about Lizzie and convince her to forget this stupid custody hearing. Of course, his arrest wasn't going to help.

Damn.

He would do it though. He'd settle into a nice, quiet job, and buy a little house somewhere so Lizzie could have her own room. Hell, he'd give Angelica her own room if he had to in order to get Lizzie to stay over.

And somehow, once he accomplished all that, he would achieve the impossible and convince Abby to forgive him. To give him another chance.

He had to make her see that he really loved her.

Chapter 26

 

Sexless and Single

 

Abby rolled over and ducked under the covers at the sound of the telephone, but the message machine kicked on. Damn her sisters must have turned it back on when they left.

Rainey's excited voice piped up.

Excited? Hadn't she heard about the disastrous
Good Day, Atlanta
show?

"Abby, this is Rainey. You won't believe it; a number of news broadcasts aired clips of your interview from the
Good Day Atlanta
show, and you were wonderful! Everyone who hadn't already bought a book ran out yesterday and bought one—
Under the Covers
hit the
New York Times
bestseller list!"

Abby groaned.
Unbelievable.

"We have to get that sequel under contract. Why don't you call the next one
Between the Sheets
? Well, I'm off to celebrate. Call me."

No sooner had the machine clicked off than the doorbell dinged. She dragged the quilt higher, praying whoever it was would leave. She just wanted to be alone.

The bell dinged again, ding, ding, ding. Whoever it was certainly was insistent. Probably Chelsea or Victoria checking in on her.

The phone rang and the machine clicked on again. "Abby, this is your mother. I saw you yesterday and I'm so sorry about that reporter. But look at the bright side: I heard your book made the
New York Times
bestseller list." A pause followed. "About that loan..."

A car horn blasted from the driveway and Abby punched the covers. Who in the world?

Pushing her tousled hair from her eyes, she loped to the front door in her T-shirt and boxers, then peered outside. If this was her father or Uncle Wilbur wanting money, she was going to scream.

Maybe Hunter...

No, she didn't want to see that creep.

She looked through the peephole but didn't see anyone. The doorbell dinged again, however, followed by the blast of a car horn. Abby scanned her porch one more time. Finally she glanced down and spotted her visitor.

Lizzie. She was clutching Angelica, wearing an oversize Harry Potter T-shirt, pink shorts, and sandals, her hair tousled, her eyes puffy and red.

She reached for the doorbell again. Snarts wobbled in her little arms, a taxi was sitting in the drive—the source of the horn. Was Hunter here? Had he put his little girl up to ringing the bell?

Anger hit her, but she searched the front lawn and cab and didn't see anyone but an irritated-looking driver. Worry immediately slammed into her. What was Lizzie doing here alone?

"Dr. Abby, please be home!" Lizzie wailed.

A sob punctuated the air as she opened the door. "Lizzie, honey, what is it? Did you take that taxi all by yourself?"

The driver saw her and waved, then sped off. Lizzie collapsed against her legs, the dog flopping onto Abby's feet with a whack. "Yeah, I gots the number
off
the 'frigerator. Me and Angelica and Nanny takes the taxi all the times." She backhanded a tear that dribbled out. "I gots to talk to you."

"Well, of course, honey." Abby ushered her and Snarts inside. "Let's give the puppy some water, and we'll put him in the backyard with Butterball."

Lizzie sniffed and nodded, clutching Abby's leg with one arm and Angelica with the other as she walked inside. Snarts trudged behind them at a snail's pace, tail wagging, sniffing everything in sight. Finally Abby put him outside, where he and Butterball faced the water bowl at a standoff. The dogs would have to work out their problems; she needed to tend to Lizzie.

Abby took the patio chair, then lifted the weepy little girl into her lap. "Honey, tell me what's wrong. Does your mom know you're here?"

Lizzie shook her head, her crooked blond ponytail swinging, more tears flooding her cheeks. "No, and you can't tells her."

She had to, Abby thought, but she'd get to the bottom of the situation first. "Suppose you tell me what's going on."

"You saided people comes to you if they gots problems."

"Yes, that's right."

She threw up her hands. "Well, I gots Jolly Green Giant problems."

She hugged the little girl to her. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Her lower lip trembled. "My mama don't wants my daddy to see me no more."

Ahh, so that part of Hunter's story had been true. "Why not?"

"She saided his job is dangerous, and that he has sex on TV."

Abby flinched. "Have you talked to your daddy yet?"

"No, he ain't home."

He was probably at the paper writing his prizewinning article about her. Renewed resentment swelled inside her.

"Sweetie, I think your mother is probably just trying to be cautious because she loves you. I'm sure your father and mother will work things out."

"No," Lizzie wailed, her little body trembling with sobs. "She called the lawyer; I heard her."

Abby's chest tightened.

"What else did she say?"

"She saided it's easier this way, on account of Daddy don't like schools with boards and they wants to send me away."

Abby frowned. Something was lost in the translation. "Schools with boards?"

"Yeah, where the kids live without their mommies and daddies. Like a jail."

"You mean boarding schools?"

Lizzie nodded, rubbing at her nose with her sleeve. Abby handed her a tissue. "And she saided that Snarts can't go either. And I wants him with me, even though he's homely, but he won't likes jail either. And neither will Angelica."

Tears stung Abby's eyes but she blinked them away. This problem wasn't hers, but she couldn't ignore it either and watch Lizzie get lost in the shuffle of bickering parents. She'd seen it happen to kids too many times and had heard Victoria bemoan the issue. "Don't worry, Lizzie. I'll talk to your mommy and daddy for you."

Lizzie cuddled into her arms, her little eyes droopy as if she'd exhausted herself. "I know Snarts ain't as cute as Butterballs, Dr. Abby, but he kinda grows on you. And his farts don't stink no more since Daddy gots him real dog food."

* * *

"I want to sue them for false arrest," Hunter snapped at his lawyer as he signed his release papers. "I did not try to bribe that cop."

"Be quiet," Duncan Bailey hissed. "At least contain yourself until you're officially out of here."

Hunter clenched his teeth, exhaustion and anger and worry all colliding inside him. Having to be locked up when he needed to be making amends with Abby and saving his daughter from being taken away from him had been the cruelest form of punishment he could have imagined.

Well, it could have been worse had Bubba decided to act on his obvious attraction to Hunter. Geez, the stench of the place clung to him like a dead animal.

He shuddered, snatching his cell phone as Duncan collected his personal effects from a manila envelope. Praying Abby might have phoned him, or Lizzie might have called, he instantly checked his messages. A frantic one from Shelly, telling him to call her, immediately made his blood run cold.

Had something happened to Lizzie?

Duncan was walking briskly and Hunter followed, ignoring the stares pointed in his direction as they stepped into the morning sunlight. He was too busy punching Shelly's number and worrying to care if he had coffee or food or sleep or a shower, all the mundane things that he had dwelled on the past twelve hours.

"Shelly, what's going on?"

"It's Lizzie." Shelly's normally snotty tone evaporated. "She's missing, Hunter. Is she there with you?"

Here with him? He shook himself, grateful she didn't know he'd been in jail.

"What the hell do you mean, she's missing?" He stopped in the parking lot, his breath coming to a painful halt. Duncan must have realized something was seriously wrong because he stopped, too, his gray brows knitted.

"I mean she's not here. I... I found a note."

"What kind of note?" Hunter closed his eyes on a prayer.

"She said..." Shelly's voice broke, "she said good-bye."

"Good-bye."
Oh, God.
She'd run away. "You're sure she's alone?"

"Yes. I thought maybe she went to your house."

His stomach plummeted as he looked back at the jail.

"I wasn't home." He couldn't very well tell her about his stint in jail, or she'd use it as ammunition against him.

"How long has she been gone?" Please, not overnight.

"Her bed's been slept in, so she must have gotten up early and left."

And where the hell was Shelly and the damned precious nanny? He gnawed the inside of his cheek to keep from lashing out. "So she's on foot?"
Hitchhikers, truckers, rapists...
Panic sucked the air from his lungs.

"Actually I think she took a taxi, the same one she and the nanny take—"

His phone beeped, signifying he had another call. "Hang on, Shelly. I've got another call."

"You're leaving me hanging to talk business, or is it that woman—"

"For God's sake, Shelly, it might be Lizzie."

Silence; then she sputtered, "All right, get the damned phone."

He clicked over, shocked to hear Abby's voice. "Hunter—"

"Listen, Abby, I really want to talk to you, but not now."

"Wait—"

"I can't." His voice was choked. He clicked back over to Shelly. "Look, I'll be there as soon as I can and we'll figure out what to do."

* * *

Abby slammed down the phone in a fit of rage. How dare he hang up on her when she was trying to help. Did he even know his daughter was missing? Or had his feelings for Lizzie been a lie, too?

She had a good mind to let him stew. Torturing Hunter would be nice revenge for her, but she couldn't let Lizzie suffer another minute. The little girl nuzzled up to Snarts and Abby's heart broke. No, she needed to resolve this situation for the little girl's sake.

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