“You’re no better than my father. You realize that? You can’t keep me like a prisoner.”
“I’m not. You are free to go wherever you want, but Jethro will be your shadow until I know you can be trusted.”
Fucking bastard.
“UntilIcan be trusted? Are you for real?” This is going to make things infinitely harder, and I’m not standing for it. The goon must go. “And doyouhave a bodyguard? Who’s going to shadow you to ensure you don’t cheat on me again?!”
Jethro’s eyes perk up, and he’s not fast enough to hide his reaction.
Charlie’s heavy breathing echoes down the line, but it’s clear he’s not going to respond.
“I hate you,” I spit out.
“We’ll talk about this later. I’ll see you at dinner.” He hangs up, and I silently seethe as I climb into the back seat, instructing Jethro to take me to town.
When I return, Lillian has gone to her friend’s house, Charlie is still AWOL, and Elizabeth is fast asleep on the couch with an empty bottle of wine lying on the floor at her feet and her wedding video playing on the big screen mounted to the wall. I turn it off, place a blanket over her, and tiptoe out of the room with the empty wine bottle and glass.
I sneak into her en suite bathroom and call Rick first, hoping to speak to Kai, but he’s sleeping again, and I tell him I’ll call later if I get the chance. I really need to speak to him. To hear his voice and know he’s okay. But I won’t stop worrying until I’m looking at him with my own eyes.
I call Xavier next. “Hey, babe. You doing okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine.”
“Abby.” His voice softens. “I know what he did to you. It’s okay to not be okay.”
Intense pain settles on my chest like a ten-ton truck just dropped on top of me. I can scarcely breathe over the pain ripping my insides to shreds.
I cannot think about it.
Not even for a second.
Because I will fall apart, and I need to be at the top of my game. “No,” I whisper, hoping he understands I can’t discuss it.
Xavier curses. “I’m coming over.”
I open my mouth to object, but he’s already hung up on me.
I’ve composed myself by the time he arrives, and I almost trip over my feet when I spot the sweet ride he showed up on. “Holy shit,” I exclaim, stepping outside and deliberately ignoring Jethro. “Where did you get a Yamaha R3 from? And who owns it?”
“Iown it. You converted me.” Xavier puffs out his leather-clad chest, and I smother a giggle as I look him over. He’s wearing a tight black biker’s leather jacket and matching pants, with a Batman logo on both, with fitted elbow and knee pads, and heavy black biker boots. A Batman-branded helmet dangles off the handlebars, and I lose control of my giggle, full-on laughing.
Xavier runs his fingers through his fire engine–red hair, frowning. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” I splutter, pointing as I walk toward him. “You’re like a walking cliché.”
He plants his hands on his hips, pouting and tipping his chin up. “I’m Batman.” He deepens his voice as he stabs me with a serious look. “Get used to it.”
I crack up laughing, clutching my stomach in physical pain. He watches with amusement in his eyes. When I compose myself, I wipe at the moisture sitting on my cheekbones and straighten up. “Where the hell did you get all this gear?”
“A dude I know was selling it.”
“I wonder why,” I mutter before wrapping my arms around him. “You shouldn’t have come here, but it’s so good to see you.”
“Why the hell not? Has Charlie boy decided you can’t have friends now?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. We aren’t exactly on speaking terms.”
“Come inside and tell Uncle Xavier all about it,” he says, poking his tongue out at Jethro as we walk past him. Jethro slants a funny look at Xavier, and I arch a brow.
