Love LockDown (32 page)

He releases me and then takes my face in his palms. “How are you feeling?” he asks me concerned, glancing down to my stomach, then to my chest and finally my stitched and bruised face.

“I’m alright, been better, been worse.” And I had, in my short twenty two years of life I have experienced the epitome of happiness, and I have seen such devastation and heartbreak that this point right here right now, was just a middle ground.

“Oh sweetheart. It won’t ever happen again I can assure you of that. They’re all lucky there not hanging from a tree out back right now.” And I believe him, Tom is as soft as they come, a teddy bear, but someone upsets his family, and there would be hell to pay.

“I know Tom, I know.” I turn to all the men “But please, all of you, even you Scott,” he knows my disliking of him, so I thought I’d reiterate my feelings, “be safe, I can’t lose any of you okay.”

“I’m flattered Abigail.” Scott replies sarcastically, holding his hand to his heart in a love filled gesture.

I know there is no way on this earth that Leighton is going to let this go, I can’t stop him, that’s who he is, and if he doesn’t end this I know a thousand percent the others in this family group will.

“Please, all of you promise me you’ll stay safe.” I plead them with my eyes, begging them to protect one another and mainly to protect my fiancé.

“You got it sweetness, stay safe, clearly received. Now come sit your pregnant arse down, you look tired.” Ant insists, I would feel like I was intruding, except I know everything that happens now, I’m not kept from anything. Well except the whole retaliation thing Leighton had kept from me.

I place my backside on Leighton’s lap; he is sitting in the arm chair, on his own, a glass with a slosh of whiskey in, resting on the arm of the chair.

“I’m not really tired, just woken up. My back aches and my chest stings, but I’m okay.” I snuggle my head into Leighton’s chest again, surprised that actually I am still tired, and could easily and possibly fall back to sleep. “Sorry if I’m too heavy.” I whisper to him.

“Your perfect angel, stay where you are.” I relax myself into his muscular frame, comforted by his scent and definition.

I can hear the men talking about what they are going to do and how they are to handle their new revenge. I can feel Leighton’s body tensing in anger, he is obviously thinking about what has happened to me and is clearly ready to slit some throats. I try to blank out their talking; I can hear muffles instead, the odd word or sentence penetrating my ears.

Leighton finishes his Scotch, places the glass on the table and then pulls me further into him. He places one arm around my stomach, resting his large hand on the protruding bump; the other nestles on the back of my head, gently stroking the strands between his fingertips.

I feel myself slip into sleep, the voices of the men relaxing me, making me feel safe and at home.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The next morning I wake up, completely surprised that I have slept the whole night without waking up in tremors or shakes like I have done in the hospital the previous three nights.

I look beside me, the bed is empty, and Leighton is nowhere to be seen.

I look to the side and a note rests upright against the lamp.

My beautiful Abigail,

I had to pop out early to sort some things out.

I’ll be back soon.

I love you

Leighton x

Great, home alone. I drag myself from the bed, feeling nervous at being home on my own.

After showering, dressing and slipping my soft sippers onto my feet again, I make my way downstairs to make some breakfast for myself.

Reaching the kitchen I go into full blown panic mode, standing and sitting around my kitchen island are six huge men. Attached to their belts are guns, Glock G19’s. All have a crazy kind of look in their eyes. Luckily none of them can see me; they are searching through the cupboards and draws.

Without drawing attention to myself I turn back around and run for Leighton’s office, slamming the door behind me and swinging the lock across.

Getting to his desk I drop to my knees and press the red button under the desk a multitude of times, knowing it will be reaching Antonio the second I push it. I climb under the desk and pull my knees to my chest. I begin to rock, trying to drive the dark and agonising memories from only four days ago, away.

I try my hardest to fight the sick feeling in the pit of my hungry stomach.

I rub my stomach, trying to sooth my baby. My squishy has started to kick and budge inside, clearly sensing my elevation in blood pressure and my racing heart.

“It’s okay baby, mummy’s got you, were safe. Uncle Antonio will be here soon, he’ll get rid of the nasty men. Oh God squishy, oh God.” I try my hardest to breath in and out, if my heart rate soars to high, it can damage the baby. I need to keep calm and collected.

But how can I? How can I remain sane when there is six men in my kitchen, they are waiting for me. They want to hurt us both. I just about survived three men, six will destroy me, and there would be no body to identify.

The state of petrification my body is undergoing causes me to become dizzy and weary. I can feel myself losing consciousness, a sort of stress induced coma approaching.

I vaguely remember the door to the office being kicked through and the last thing I think of is, ‘I hope Leighton will be able to move on and forgive me’.

*****

I force my eyes to open when I hear Leighton’s voice.

“Baby, open your eyes. Come on Abbi. Open them for me.” I pry them apart, the lights in the room causing me to flinch.

“Too bright.” I squeal out, moving my hand in front of them to block the florescent gleam.

I feel Leighton’s hand on mine removing it from my eyes. “I’ve turned the light off angel. You can open your eyes now.” I open my eyelids, the lamp glowing softly on the bedside table. I relax into the soft mattress beneath me.

I look into Leighton’s eyes. “Oh God baby, you’re alive. I was so scared.” I mumble, tears escaping my eyes.

“Hey, come here.” He climbs onto the bed with me, pulling my huge pregnant self to him. “They weren’t here to hurt you, I’m sorry I should have said something. They are the security detail I hired. I had to go out and didn’t want you alone so they came in early. I should have let you know.” his guilt over worrying me oozing from him.

“Oh God Leighton, I thought they were here to hurt me again.” I sniffle back my full blown sob, acknowledging now that I’m not in danger and that Leighton is here.

“I know angel, I know. You don’t have to be scared anymore. Nothing is going to happen. I won’t let it.” I can’t take his promise with a hundred percent certainty; he has no idea at how far those bastards can take their revenge. I am certain that sooner or later something tragic is going to happen.

“Leighton, how do I stop this continual state of panic, I can’t live like this. I can’t live knowing they’re out there somewhere.” I scream into the duvet surrounding me.

“What can I do baby, what can I do to help you through this?” his own internal struggle is fighting him at every turn.

The only way I can relax is to know a hundred percent they are gone, that they are dead and buried. I don’t condone what Leighton does for a living; it is sickening to think that my sweet, beautiful man is a murderer, but I just can’t do it anymore. I’d been home for less than two days and already don’t want to carry on the way I am.

“I want them gone, completely gone from my life. I want no risk that they’ll return. If they’re not alive they can’t hurt me.” I feel utterly sick for asking Leighton what I want, that I am now as bad as those animals that had started this all those months ago.

“Don’t worry angel. They’re not coming back, It’s already on my to do list. No one in this family is suffering anymore, they think it’s just the start, well I’m saying it’s now the end.” I don’t answer; I just wiggle down the bed, turn my back to him and let him cuddle me from behind. His chest fuses to my spine, the warmth surrounds me.

Chapter Thirty

Four weeks have past, every day the same. Leighton will leave for work, I will be stuck indoors, with the six security men, who I am becoming quite fond of. They are lovely men, some have children and wives of their own and one is gay.

I have learnt to trust the six of them with my life.

Leighton returns home every night, cleans his hands in the sink, and kisses my cheek. He then disappears into his office to do more work. His attitude is seriously foul, he hardly acknowledges me, hardly wants to be around me. We haven’t made love since before my attack, partly due to my massacred vagina, but it also seems like he isn’t even bothered or interested in me. He still brings home flowers for me daily, so I know he is thinking of me at some point during the day, even if he hasn’t told me so much himself.

I know the reasons he washes his hands, I know he is metaphorically cleaning the spilt blood of the day away. I wonder everyday what his death toll is up to now. What his murder streak is.

I spend the majority of my time preparing for the birth of our baby, researching things online, booking in for a water birth and getting my hospital bag sorted. The security guys spends a lot of time around me; we eat together, laugh together and are just around each other. They obviously know what Leighton is doing because they distract me as best they can.

We are receiving daily threats and messages. A few times I have awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of glass smashing. No one ever gets in; security is on during the night as well, so they are pretty quick on their feet. We have had dead animals left outside the house, on the doorstep. Blood smeared on the walls and driveway.

Several of the girls who work at the restaurant, including Heidi’s daughter, have been attacked or threatened. It is getting beyond a joke.

I walk into Leighton’s office where he has retreated for the evening; I open the door without so much as knocking first.

“Good evening sweetheart, care to join us?” I ask sarcastically, starting to get slightly pissed off at his ignorance towards me. I am beginning to get restless and my hormones are playing a crazy game of tennis in my body.

“I’m busy.” He doesn’t even look up from his laptop as his short, snappy comeback has me seeing red, when really I know I should stop and think.

“You really are being a shitty fiancé do you know that? Those six men out there are more of a partner to me this last month than you have been. Maybe I should ask them to fuck me seeing as you’re obviously not interested anymore.” I turn around and stalk out. I slam the door hard behind me, the wall shaking causing a frame to fall from the office wall behind the door and smash on the floor.

I walk back to the kitchen where three of the six are sitting eating there dinner.

“I’m going to bed. Good night gentleman. And if arsehole comes out tell him I said to fuck off.” I strop up the stairs, my anger seething from me.

I run myself a deep bath, filled with bubbles and then lie in it and relax.

I lock the door behind me so Leighton can’t enter unwanted and uninvited. The sweet aromas of the Rose bubble bath invade my nostrils and relax me at once. This is what I need. I need some time for me; some time to relax and not worry about the fact my soul mate is clearly not interested anymore.

As I lay back in the deep bubbles, my thirty six week bump juts from beneath the water. If I hadn’t seen a scan I would believe it was twins, I am literally the size of wooly mammoth.

At this moment in time I wish I could indulge in a nice bottle (or two) of wine, sipping from the steamed up glass in the bathtub, God that sounds like heaven.

I’m even excited for the arrival of my baby, my world is just turning shittier by the minute and I don’t want to bring a baby into the mess that is around us at the moment. Leighton and I are already in danger I don’t want my squishy being subjected to any of it. He or she deserves the world, moon, stars and universe, not being sheltered and mollycoddled because I am petrified of leaving their side.

A bang on the door a while later disrupts me and my relaxation time.

“FUCK OFF.” I shout back, still not ready to talk to him.

“Let me in Abigail, please baby, I’m sorry.” Leighton’s pleading voice breaks my heart, a little sign of the real him.

I climb from the tub completely naked, dripping bubbles and water on the floor. Opening the latch on the door I swing it open wide and stare into his deep green eyes, a mix of anger, arousal and sadness existent in them. I lean a hand on the door frame and slant my hip to the side.

“Can I help you Leighton?” his eyes roam the length of my body; his teeth nibble his bottom lip violently.

“You are mine.” He states as he pushes through the doorway forcing me back into the bathroom.

He walks to me wrapping his arms around my legs and lifting me up to wrap my legs around his waist. “You are mine, only mine. Do you understand?” the possession in his tone causes wetness, I haven’t known for a month, to surge between my legs. Yes my body is dripping with soapy water but this wet, is a wet I long for daily. I pray to God for my man to return.

He walks me to the unit where the sink is embedded and places me atop it.

“Lean back. I need to see you.” And I did just that, God I did, without a second thought.

I release my arms from around his taught neck and lean back on them, being careful not to slip.

Leighton’s strong hands are placed between my thighs as he uses them to pry them apart, gazing down between them, as he steps in towards me and cuddles me. “So pretty and pink.”  He trails his fingers from my neck, between my enlarged breasts, over my swollen belly and then finally to the heat begging for his attention. “So warm and wet,” he slips a long thick finger inside my wanton pussy, and then removes it, bringing it to his lips, sucking my juices from his finger, “So sweet and beautiful.” He slips the finger back inside me followed directly by a second. “SO. FUCKING. MINE!” He bites out as his fingers curl inside me.