The uneasy feeling that Tom had brought him news of us still gnawed at me, but I had to find time to be alone with her, we had to talk. There was something special between us, there just had to be.
Chapter Nine
Thirty minutes later, still sat alone and with a plate full of food, my conviction was wearing thin.
I kept turning it all over in my mind, the realization that each time she had shown genuine pain, I had been at the heart of it. Like when my stepfather had ridiculed me, when he had belittled me, and when he had asked me to dance to his tune in aid of his business plans. But most of all, when he had made it clear that Daniel and I had spent the night together, that had really got to her.
And what of that?
Was it the pain of jealousy? Or was it the realization that I wasn’t who she thought me to be and she regretted what we had shared?
And why the hell did I care so much? Why did I want to risk my heart to someone who was as morally suspect as she?
I grimaced and shoved the plate away. I was going round in circles, getting nowhere.
The movement of the door opening made my heart skip —Emma?
My eyes shot eagerly to the doorway, only to find Lily stepping in. The surge of disappointment would have floored me if not for my chair.
“Sorry, Miss Sawyer, I was coming to clear the plates away. I didn’t think anyone was still eating.”
“We’re not,” I said, pushing back from the table and offering her a small smile that I knew didn’t reach my eyes. “Please carry on, I’m going to call it a night anyway.”
Before Lily’s perceptive nature forced an interrogation I didn’t feel strong enough to evade, I fled the room. I had juststarted to climb the stairs when Dad’s study door opened and out came Tom with Mick close behind.
My gut lurched. There really was only one reason Dad would be speaking to Mick at this time of night.
I caught Mick’s eye only to have him look immediately away, his avoidance even more telling than the grim expression he bore.
Hands trembling, I reached out for the balustrade and started up the stairs once more.
“Abigail.”
My foot faltered over the step, my stepfather’s drawn out delivery of my name turning my blood to ice.
I swallowed and paused to look at him over my shoulder. He stood in the study entrance, his face hard like granite, hands fisted at his sides.
“Daddy?”
My voice sounded so small, I couldn’t tell if he’d actually heard it, not that it mattered, he knew he had my attention.
“Come here,” he commanded, stepping aside so that his body now flanked the doorway, showing me in no uncertain terms that I was to join him in the study.
My stomach twisted with fear. “I’m tired, can it wait until tomorrow?” I tried, desperation to flee overwhelming any sense of obedience.
“No, Abi.” His eyes shot me down. “This will not wait.”
I gave the upper floor a fleeting covetous glance before turning on Jello-like legs and descending the staircase.
There was no choice, really. If I didn’t come willingly, I had no doubt he would drag me there.
“Good to see there is some respect left in you,” he barked as I passed.
I had to clamp my jaw shut to stop the trembling in my body giving way to the chattering of my teeth. His rage permeatedoff him, coming through in waves with each seething breath he took.
Fear kept my eyes fixed ahead as I walked slowly into the room, not halting until my legs pressed up against the edge of his desk. Behind me I heard the door close, followed by the sickening click of the lock and then the steady clip of his heel as he approached.
Still I couldn’t look back at him.
