Abby stepped closer and slipped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. “It will be okay. We’ll find her.”
“You know,” he said, and she felt the low rumble of his words against her ear where it rested on his chest. “When I was thinking of giving up police work, I was terrified. It’s all I’ve ever done, all I’ve ever wanted to do. I kept asking myself, if I’m not a cop, then who am I? You know what made it possible for me to give it up?” She didn’t answer. She didn’t think he expected one. “When I realized who I was. I’m Lindsey’s father, that’s who.” His voice lowered with the rasp of tears. “She’s my world, Abby. I can’t lose her.”
Abby tightened her grip, holding him for several moments. She could feel their hearts beating in sync, keeping the same rhythm, reaching out to one another without words.
Finally, she pulled away. She expected to see tears when she looked into his face, but his eyes were dry. They were studying her with an intense look, seeming to reach deep inside her, into a part no one had ever touched.
Not even Chase.
Suddenly, she wanted to tell Wil about that night. Tell him everything. It was strange. Hers and Wil’s relationship, or at least the romantic aspect of it, was over. But she felt closer to him than she ever had. It was a poignant, bittersweet connection, but it was there.
She walked over to the sofa, sank into the soft cushion, and waited until Wil was seated beside her to speak.
“My husband, Chase, was self-absorbed and uncaring,” she said without preamble. “He cheated on me throughout our three-year marriage. I was ready to divorce him. Our marriage had been over for months, but we were still going through the motions. I was trying to figure out the right way to tell him I was leaving when I discovered I was pregnant.” A deep, wrenching pain shafted through her heart at the memory. “I was going to abort it. I thought a baby would make it too difficult to divorce him. I never even told him I was pregnant.”
Wil reached out and took her hand. “You don’t have to tell me this if you don’t want to.”
As if he hadn’t spoken, she continued. “Just before bedtime one night, there was a loud banging on the door. Chase opened it. He didn’t even look through the peephole. We lived in a safe neighborhood. It never occurred to him that...” She shuddered and swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. “Three men forced their way in, wearing ski masks, carrying guns. They demanded our money and valuables. Chase led them upstairs, telling them they could have whatever they wanted, but to please not hurt me.”
She shook her head, her mouth twisting into a wry, sad grin. “It was the only time in our marriage I remember him putting me first. One of the gunmen grabbed me by the arm, dragged me up the stairs behind the others. Once we reached the landing, he...he...touched me. He started to—”
She stopped, once again feeling his hot breath on her neck, smelling the repulsive odor of it and the cheap cologne he wore. “I fought him. I struggled and kicked, trying to break free. Chase saw what was happening and tried to help me, but the other men had him...they hit him...”
Her breath came in short gasps as she relived the horror. Wil tightened his hold but she was barely aware of it, barely aware of him at that moment. “I scratched my attacker’s eyes and he hit me. I fell. Down the stairs. I landed, hard. I lay there, looking up at the horror above me.” Tears flowed down her cheeks, her body cold and tight with the memories. “They beat him...”
She fell silent and Wil slid closer to her, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders and pulling her to his warmth. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered hoarsely.
“They beat him. Then they shot him. He fell, face forward, his head hanging over the railing, looking at me,” she ended, her voice as guttural and raw as if she’d been screaming for hours.
“Oh, God,” Wil said. “I’m so sorry.”
Abby couldn’t tell him the other. Couldn’t tell him how she’d been lying at the bottom of the stairs, feeling her baby leave her body as she looked up into her husband’s pleading eyes. She’d wondered what he’d been pleading for. Forgiveness? For her to save him?
It didn’t matter, because in the next moment, he was dead, and she couldn’t give him what he asked for. The killers left then, taking whatever they could carry, for some reason leaving her alone and alive.
Later she was told she’d lain there for hours. She hadn’t been aware of the passage of time. All awareness had been sucked into a black void. The only thing she could see, the only thing that was real to her, was her husband’s eyes. She still saw them sometimes in her sleep.
“Now, I see,” Wil said quietly. “I understand. You tried so hard to get away from violence and I’ve brought it right back to you.”
Abby pulled away from him and stood, walking back to stare out the patio door. Her voice was mechanical as she replied, “Sometimes you can’t hide. It will find you no matter what. Sometimes, you have to fight.”
She heard Wil move, felt him stand behind her, met his eyes in the glass. He rubbed her shoulders gently, kneading out the tension. A slow, languorous warmth moved through her at his touch and she sighed, letting her head fall back.
They stood like that for several moments, his hands moving over her arms, softly, soothingly, then back up to her shoulders, her neck, his touch a comforting caress.
Acting on impulse, she turned to face him and his arms went around her. She stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his, a small whimper leaving her throat as he deepened the kiss, pulling her body to him. His mouth was warm and seeking, his tongue probing, parting her lips and delving inside. She kissed him back, meeting his tongue with hers, desperately, urgently, his firm lips searing away all the bad stuff, for just a moment, making her forget.
Reluctantly, she broke away, stepping out of Wil’s embrace. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, brushing a trembling hand over her still tingling lips. “This isn’t what either of us needs right now.”
Wil hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her face, staring intently into her eyes. “Besides getting my daughter back, being close to you, holding you, is what I need most in the world.”
She gave a small shake of her head. “No. It’s not a good idea. Not now.”
“You’re right,” Wil said. “But would you stay with me tonight? I need your company, your sweetness. I promise I won’t do anything, won’t even touch you if you don’t want me to, but will you stay with me? In my bed?”
She needed it, too. She nodded almost without being aware of it. “Yes.”
****
Abby brushed her teeth, then put on a Miami Dolphin’s jersey Wil gave her to sleep in. Nervously, she came out of the bathroom. Wil lay in bed with one arm bent behind his head, a dim lamp burning on the nightstand.
Normally, she knew, he slept in nothing but his boxer briefs but now he also wore a white T-shirt. She smiled, touched by the small gesture. He was doing it for her. So she wouldn’t feel self-conscious. To reinforce his vow not to touch her.
While she was relieved, she had to admit, a tiny part of her was disappointed. She missed Wil’s touch, his lovemaking. But, it wouldn’t be right. Wouldn’t feel right now that they were no longer together. It also wouldn’t feel right with Lindsey missing.
Abby slid beneath the cool, thick comforter next to Wil and he flipped the light off.
“Goodnight,” he said in the darkness.
“Goodnight,” she responded and, for the first time in days, fell almost instantly into a dreamless sleep.
Sometime during the night, Abby woke with the weight of Wil’s hand on her hip. It rested against her, burning through the cloth of the jersey...warm...tender.
She tried to lie very still, but involuntarily, she twitched with wanting. If she simply turned over on her back, his hand would...
She nearly moaned, or maybe she did, because she heard Wil’s breathing change from the steady rhythm of sleep to a more shallow, labored sound.
He was awake.
Chapter Thirteen
Without speaking, Abby slowly, deliberately rotated onto her back. Almost immediately, Wil’s hand slid downward. His touch was feather light, not stroking, just there, resting along her pelvic bone. She squirmed, encouraging his caress. Her breath caught in her throat as he brushed his fingers against her.
Abby turned her head to face him, their lips met, and she whimpered at the explosion of desire that shot through her. The kiss was frantic, deep, a meshing of lips and tongues.
Beneath the covers, Wil slid off his boxers, then gently rolled on top of her. She felt his erection against her thigh and sighed, lifting her hips, preparing to slip her panties off. But before she could remove them, he slid the crotch aside and entered her. She gasped at the newness of the sensation, holding onto his shoulders as he moved tenderly, slowly inside her, as if aware of the danger lurking inside her body.
Neither of them spoke. Their breathing was the only sound, and it echoed with tension and desire. It was as if the explosive resting inside her added a bizarre element of excitement, of thrill, to their coupling. She thought Wil might be thinking the same thing, but neither of them acknowledged it. If they spoke it aloud, the maniac’s perversion would taint their lovemaking.
Wil stroked back and forth, increasing the pressure on her clit as he shoved the jersey up. His mouth found one hardened nipple, sucking it greedily. He moaned deep in his throat, then began to move faster. In seconds, she felt his climax explode deep inside her.
She gripped his shoulders, rubbing herself against him, seeking her own release. His hot, wet mouth tugged at her nipple, pulling gently. She gasped, then gave a small scream as her muscles tightened, then released. Wave after wave pulsed through her and she lifted her hips, pressed her body more tightly to his, feeling her orgasm throb, seeming to go on forever.
Slowly, she lowered back to the mattress as the sensation ebbed, leaving her sated, her bones like liquid fire.
“That was amazing,” Abby said on a sigh, so relaxed she was barely able to form the words.
“Yeah.”
“It was...different.”
“Yeah,” Wil said again.
He brushed the damp hair from her forehead and pulled her more tightly to him. Nestled against the warmth of his strong, solid body, she could almost believe that everything was okay. That nothing bad could touch them.
But she knew better.
Abby swallowed, squeezed her eyes tightly shut against tears, and swallowed again before she spoke. “Did it feel like the end? Of us?”
Softly, he kissed her on the ear and whispered, “Yeah.”
****
Wil could still smell Abby on his skin, still feel the imprint of her shoulder blades against his chest, her soft, round bottom pressed into him...
He sighed, shifting in the seat of his truck. He’d have to find a way to stop wanting her, because he’d never have her again. By tacit agreement, they’d ended things between them for good.
He watched through the windshield as a couple of seagulls swooped in the azure sky, nearly blending in with the clouds and the white foam on the water as they dipped lower.
He was waiting for Diane to come out of Abby’s office. Abby had fired her and Diane was cleaning out her belongings. Abby had told her to mail the keys when she was finished. Maybe, in spite of what she’d done, Abby trusted Diane not to take things that didn’t belong to her. But it was most likely that Abby was so opposed to being around Diane, she was willing to take a chance.
Wil marveled that two people could fool him and Abby so thoroughly. Jesus, were they that imperceptive? That gullible? He shook his head. They couldn’t have made worse choices if they’d shopped for friends at ‘Maniacs ‘R Us’.
Sighing, he peered through the windshield and watched for Diane to come out. Even though Perry’s willingness to sacrifice their child had seemingly driven a wedge between the couple, Diane could possibly still lead Wil to Perry. Wil didn’t know what else he could do to find Lindsey.
DNA tests were being conducted on the evidence from the mask. They would compare it to DNA taken from a search of Perry’s apartment, the result of a warrant that had been issued after Diane’s statement.
It would be a long while before DNA results were in, but that didn’t really matter now. DNA was a moot point. Wil knew Perry had Lindsey. The only question remaining was,
where
did he have her?
Wil pulled his mind back to his quarry when she exited the building. She stopped between the swaying fronds of one of the palm trees that lined the sidewalk to re-adjust the large cardboard box she carried.
She was heading toward her car when Wil’s phone rang. He answered, his body drawing up with tension when he heard the raspy, mechanical voice.
“Hey, Teddy, what’s shakin’?”
Wil debated a split second before saying, “You can get rid of the voice box, Perry.”
There was a slight intake of breath, then a long silence before Perry’s normal voice came over the line.
“So, she broke, huh? Figured she would after you threatened to kill her child.” He gave a chuckle. “I’m impressed. I mean,
I
know you wouldn’t do it, but she’s not so sure. She’s not willing to take the chance, while I most definitely am.”
“Ward Cleaver, you’re not.”
He chuckled again. “You make me laugh, Willie boy. That’s one reason I didn’t mind hanging out with you, even while I planned to destroy your life. Did Diane tell you
why
I took your daughter?”
Wil forced his voice to remain even. He didn’t want to provoke Perry into hurting Lindsey. “Yes, she did, and I’m sorry. You must know I didn’t do it on purpose. I had no choice. Your sister—”
“No! Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it was her fault,” Perry screamed.
By now, Diane had left the parking lot and Wil pulled out behind her. “Okay, okay. Just calm down. Listen, can I please talk to Lindsey? I have to know she’s okay. You understand that, don’t you?”
“I understand, but you can’t talk to her. Not yet. I will, however, let you
hear
her.”
“No!” A burst of panic shot through Wil’s chest. “Please don’t make her scream.”