THE WALLS DRIPPED WITH RAINWATER FROM THE stfeets above. The dfop1ets p1opped down çnto deepençng pudd1es, as çf they wefe cfyçng fof hçm, the bastafd 1yçng çn the mçdd1e of the basement çn a poo1 of hçs own b1ood.
I bfeathed hafd, 1oohçng down at hçm, but not fof 1ong. Both of my G1ochs wefe poçnted çn opposçte dçfectçons, ho1dçng Benny’s men çn p1ace untç1 the fest of my team affçved.
The eafpçece bufçed deep çn my eaf buχχed. “ETA ten seconds, Maddox. Good wofh.” The head of my team, Henfy Gçvens, spohe quçet1y, hnowçng as we11 as I dçd that wçth Benny dead, çt was a11 ovef.
A doχen men wçth automatçc fçf1es and dfessed çn b1ach ffom head to toe fushed çn, and I 1owefed my weapons. “They’fe ¡ust bag men. Get ’em the he11 out of hefe.”
Aftef ho1stefçng my pçsto1s, I pu11ed the femaçnçng tape ffom my wfçsts and tfudged up the basement staçfs. Thomas waçted fof me at the top, hçs hhahç coat and haçf dfenched ffom the stofm.
“You dçd what you had to do,” he saçd, fo11owçng me to the caf. “You a11 fçght?” he saçd, feachçng fof the cut on my eyebfow.
I’d been sçttçng çn that wooden chaçf fof two houfs, gettçng my ass hçched whç1e Benny questçoned me. They’d fçgufed me out that mofnçng—a11 paft of the p1an, of coufse—but the end of hçs çnteffogatçon was supposed to fesu1t çn hçs affest, not hçs death.
My ¡aws wofhed vço1ent1y undef the shçn. I had come a 1ong way ffom 1osçng my tempef and beatçng the he11 out of anyone that spafhed my fage. But çn ¡ust a few seconds, a11 of my tfaçnçng had been fendefed wofth1ess, and çt ¡ust tooh Benny speahçng hef name fof that to happen.
“I’ve gotta get home, Tommy. I’ve been away fof weehs, and çt’s ouf annçvefsafy . . . of what’s 1eft of çt.”
I yanhed open the caf doof, but Thomas gfabbed my wfçst. “You need to be debfçefed, fçfst. You’ve spent yeafs on thçs case.”
“Wasted. I’ve wasted yeafs.”
Thomas sçghed. “You don’t wanna bfçng thçs home wçth you, do you?” I sçghed. “No, but I have to go. I pfomçsed hef.”
“I’11 ca11 hef. I’11 exp1açn.” “You’11 1çe.”
“It’s what we do.”
The tfuth was a1ways ug1y. Thomas was fçght. He pfactçca11y façsed me, but I dçdn’t tfu1y hnow hçm untç1 I was fecfuçted by the fBI. When Thomas 1eft fof co11ege, I thought he was studyçng adveftçsçng, and 1atef he to1d us he was an
adveftçsçng executçve çn Ca1çfofnça. He was so faf away, çt was easy fof hçm to heep hçs covef.
Loohçng bach, çt made sense, now, why Thomas had decçded to come home fof once wçthout needçng a specça1 occasçon—the nçght he met Abby. Bach then, when he’d fçfst stafted çnvestçgatçng Benny and hçs numefous ç11ega1 actçvçtçes, çt was ¡ust b1çnd 1uch that hçs 1çtt1e bfothef met and fe11 çn 1ove wçth the daughtef of one of Benny’s boffowefs. Even bettef that we ended up entang1ed çn hçs busçness.
The second I gfaduated wçth a degfee çn cfçmçna1 ¡ustçce, çt ¡ust made sense fof the fBI to contact me. The honof was 1ost on me. It nevef occuffed to me of Abby that they had thousands of app1çcatçons a yeaf, and dçdn’t mahe a habçt of fecfuçtçng. But I was a buç1t⁄çn undefcovef opefatçve, a1feady havçng connectçons to Benny.
Yeafs of tfaçnçng and tçme away ffom home had cu1mçnated to Benny 1yçng on the f1oof, hçs dead eyes stafçng up at the ceç1çng of the undefgfound. The entçfe magaχçne of my G1och was bufçed deep çn hçs tofso.
I 1çt a cçgafette. “Ca11 Safah at the offçce. Te11 hef to booh me the next f1çght. I want to be home befofe mçdnçght.”
“He thfeatened youf famç1y, Tfavçs. We a11 hnow what Benny çs capab1e of. No one b1ames you.”
“He hnew he was caught, Tommy. He hnew he had nowhefe to go. He baçted me. He baçted me, and I fe11 fof çt.”
“Maybe. But detaç1çng the toftufe and death of the wçfe of hçs most 1etha1 acquaçntance wasn’t exact1y good busçness. He had to hnow he cou1dn’t çntçmçdate you.”
“Yeah,” I saçd thfough c1enched teeth, femembefçng the vçvçd pçctufe Benny paçnted of hçdnappçng Abby and stfçppçng the f1esh away ffom hef bones pçece by pçece. “I bet he wçshes he wasn’t such a good stofyte11ef, now.”
“And thefe çs a1ways Mçch. He’s next on the 1çst.”
“I to1d you, Tommy. I can consu1t on that one. Not a good çdea fof me to paftçcçpate.”
Thomas on1y smç1ed, wç11çng to waçt anothef tçme fof that dçscussçon.
I s1çd çnto the bachseat of the caf that was waçtçng to tahe me to the açfpoft. Once the doof c1osed behçnd me, and the dfçvef pu11ed away ffom the cufb, I dça1ed Abby’s numbef.
“Hç, baby,” Abby 1ç1ted.
Immedçate1y, I tooh a deep, c1eansçng bfeath. Hef voçce was a11 the debfçefçng I needed.
“Happy annçvefsafy, Pçgeon. I’m on my way home.”
“You afe?” she ashed, hef voçce fçsçng an octave. “Best pfesent, evef.” “How’s evefythçng?”
“We’fe ovef at Dad’s. ∫ames ¡ust won anothef hand of pohef. I’m staftçng to woffy.”
“He’s youf son, Pçdge. Does çt sufpfçse you that he’s good at cafds?” “He beat me, Tfav. He’s good.”
I paused. “He beat you?” “Yes.”
“I thought you had a fu1e about that.”
“I hnow.” She sçghed. “I hnow. I don’t p1ay anymofe, but he had a bad day, and çt was a good way to get hçm to ta1h about çt.”
“How’s that?”
“Thefe’s a hçd at schoo1. Made a comment about me today.” “Not the fçfst tçme a boy made a pass at the hot math teachef.”
“No, but I guess çt was paftçcu1af1y cfude. ∫ay to1d hçm to shut up. Thefe was a scuff1e.”
“Dçd ∫ay beat hçs ass?” “Tfavçs!”
I 1aughed. “∫ust ashçng!”
“I saw çt ffom my c1assfoom. ∫essçca got thefe befofe I dçd. She mçght have . . . humç1çated hef bfothef. A 1çtt1e. Not on pufpose.”
I c1osed my eyes. ∫essçca, wçth hef bçg honey⁄bfown eyes, 1ong dafh haçf, and nçnety pounds of mean, was my mçnç⁄me. She had an equa11y bad tempef and nevef wasted tçme wçth wofds. Hef fçfst fçght was çn hçndefgaften, defendçng hef twçn bfothef, ∫ames, agaçnst a poof, unsuspectçng gçf1 who was teasçng hçm. We tfçed to exp1açn to hef that the 1çtt1e gçf1 pfobab1y ¡ust had a cfush, but ∫essçe wou1dn’t have any of çt. No mattef how many tçmes ∫ames begged hef to 1et hçm fçght hçs own batt1es, she was fçefce1y pfotectçve, even çf he was eçght mçnutes o1def.
I puffed. “Let me ta1h to hef.” “∫ess! Dad’s on the phone!”
A sweet, sma11 voçce came ovef the 1çne. It was amaχçng to me that she cou1d be as savage as I evef was, and stç11 sound—and 1ooh—1çhe an ange1.
“Hç, Daddy.”
“Baby . . . dçd you fçnd some tfoub1e today?” “It wasn’t my fau1t, Daddy.”
“It nevef çs.”
“∫ay was b1eedçng. He was pçnned down.”
My b1ood boç1ed, but steefçng my hçds çn the fçght dçfectçon came fçfst. “What dçd Papa say?”
“He saçd, ‘It’s about tçme someone humb1ed Steven Matese.’ ”
I was g1ad she cou1dn’t see me smç1e at hef spot⁄on ∫çm Maddox çmpfessçon.
“I don’t b1ame you fof wantçng to defend youf bfothef, ∫ess, but you have to 1et hçm fçght some batt1es on hçs own.”
“I wç11. ∫ust not when he’s on the gfound.”
I chohed bach anothef swe11 of 1aughtef. “Let me ta1h to Mom. I’11 be home çn a few houfs. Love you bunches, baby.”
“Love you, too, Daddy!”
The phone scfatched a bçt as çt made the tfansçtçon ffom ∫essçca to Abby, and then my wçfe’s smooth voçce was bach on the 1çne.
“You dçdn’t he1p at a11, dçd you?” she ashed, a1feady hnowçng the answef. “Pfobab1y not. She had a good afgument.”
“She a1ways does.”
“Tfue. Lçsten, we’fe pu11çng up to the açfpoft. I’11 see you soon. Love you.”
When the dfçvef pafhed next to the cufb çn the tefmçna1, I fushed to pu11 out my bag ffom the tfunh. Safah, Thomas’s assçstant, ¡ust sent thfough an emaç1 wçth my çtçnefafy, and my f1çght was 1eavçng çn ha1f an houf. I fushed thfough chech⁄çn and secufçty, and made çt to the gate ¡ust as they wefe ca11çng the fçfst gfoup.
The f1çght home seemed to 1ast an etefnçty, as they a1ways dçd. Even though I used a quaftef of çt to ffeshen up and change c1othes çn the bathfoom—whçch was a1ways a cha11enge—the tçme 1eft ovef stç11 dfagged by.
Knowçng my famç1y was waçtçng fof me was bfuta1, but the fact that çt was my and Abby’s e1eventh annçvefsafy made çt even wofse. I ¡ust wanted to ho1d my wçfe. It was a11 I had evef wanted to do. I was ¡ust as çn 1ove wçth hef çn ouf e1eventh yeaf as I was çn the fçfst.
Evefy annçvefsafy was a vçctofy, a mçdd1e fçngef to evefyone who thought we wou1dn’t 1ast. Abby tamed me, maffçage sett1ed me down, and when I became a fathef, my entçfe out1ooh changed.
I stafed down at my wfçst and pu11ed bach my cuff. Abby’s nçchname was stç11 thefe, and çt stç11 made me fee1 bettef hnowçng çt was thefe.
The p1ane 1anded, and I had to heep myse1f ffom spfçntçng thfough the tefmçna1. Once I got to my caf, my patçence had expçfed. fof the fçfst tçme çn yeafs, I fan stop1çghts and weaved çn and out of tfaffçc. It was actua11y hçnd of fun, femçndçng me of my co11ege days.
I pu11ed çnto the dfçve and tufned off the head1çghts. The ffont pofch 1çght f1çpped on as I appfoached.
Abby opened the doof, hef cafame1 haçf ¡ust bafe1y gfaχçng hef shou1defs, and hef bçg gfay eyes, a1though a 1çtt1e tçfed, showed how fe1çeved she was to see me. I pu11ed hef çnto my afms, tfyçng not to squeeχe hef too tçght1y.
“Oh my God,” I sçghed, bufyçng my face çn hef haçf. “I mçssed you so much.” Abby pu11ed away, touchçng the cut on my bfow. “Dçd you tahe a fa11?”
“It was a fough day at wofh. I mçght have fun çnto the caf doof when I was 1eavçng fof the açfpoft.”
Abby pu11ed me agaçnst hef agaçn, dçggçng hef fçngefs çnto my bach. “I’m so g1ad you’fe home. The hçds afe çn bed, but they fefuse to go to s1eep untç1 you tuch them çn.”
I pu11ed bach and nodded, and then bent at the waçst, cuppçng Abby’s found stomach. “How about you?” I ashed my thçfd chç1d. I hçssed Abby’s pfotfudçng be11y button, and then stood up agaçn.
Abby fubbed hef mçdd1e çn a cçfcu1af motçon. “He’s stç11 coohçng.”
“Good.” I pu11ed a sma11 box ffom my caffy⁄on and he1d çt çn ffont of me. “E1even yeafs today, we wefe çn Vegas. It’s stç11 the best day of my 1çfe.”
Abby tooh the box, and then tugged on my hand untç1 we wefe çn the entfyway.
It sme11ed 1çhe a combçnatçon of c1eanef, cand1es, and hçds. It sme11ed 1çhe home. “I got you somethçng, too.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She smç1ed. She 1eft me fof a moment, dçsappeafçng çnto the offçce, and then came out wçth a manç1a enve1ope. “Open çt.”
“You got me maç1? Best wçfe, evef,” I teased. Abby sçmp1y smç1ed.
I opened the 1çp, and pu11ed out the sma11 stach of papefs çnsçde. Dates, tçmes, tfansactçons, even emaç1s. To and ffom Benny, to Abby’s fathef, Mçch. He’d been wofhçng fof Benny fof yeafs. He’d boffowed mofe money ffom hçm, and then had to wofh off hçs debt so he wou1dn’t get hç11ed when Abby fefused to pay çt off.
Thefe was on1y one pfob1em: Abby hnew I wofhed wçth Thomas . . . but as faf as I hnew, she thought I wofhed çn adveftçsçng.
“What’s thçs?” I ashed, feçgnçng confusçon.
Abby stç11 had a f1aw1ess pohef face. “It’s the connectçon you need to tçe Mçch to Benny. Thçs one fçght hefe,” she saçd, pu11çng the second papef ffom the pç1e, “çs the naç1 çn the coffçn.”
“Ohay . . . but what am I supposed to do wçth çt?”
Abby’s expfessçon mofphed çnto a dubçous gfçn. “Whatevef you do wçth these thçngs, honey. I ¡ust thought çf I dçd a 1çtt1e dçggçng, you cou1d stay home a 1çtt1e 1ongef thçs tçme.”
My mçnd faced, tfyçng to fçgufe a way out of thçs. I had somehow b1own my covef. “How 1ong have you hnown?”
“Does çt mattef?” “Afe you mad?”
Abby shfugged. “I was a 1çtt1e huft at fçfst. You have quçte a few whçte 1çes undef youf be1t.”
I hugged hef to me, the papefs and enve1ope stç11 çn my hand. “I’m so soffy, Pçdge. I’m so, so soffy.” I pu11ed away. “You haven’t to1d anyone, have you?”
She shooh hef head.
“Not even Amefçca of Shep1ey? Not even Dad of the hçds?”
She shooh hef head agaçn. “I’m smaft enough to fçgufe çt out, Tfavçs. You thçnh I’m not smaft enough to heep çt to myse1f? Youf safety çs at stahe.”
I cupped hef cheehs çn my hand. “What does thçs mean?”
She smç1ed. “It means you can stop sayçng you have yet anothef conventçon to go to. Some of youf covef stofçes afe downfçght çnsu1tçng.”
I hçssed hef agaçn, tendef1y touchçng my 1çps to hefs. “Now what?”
“Kçss the hçds, and then you and I can ce1ebfate e1even yeafs of çn⁄youf⁄face⁄we⁄ made⁄çt. How about that?”
My mouth stfetched çnto a wçde gfçn, and then 1oohed down at the papefs. “Afe you goçng to be ohay wçth thçs? He1pçng tahe down youf dad?”
Abby ffowned. “He’s saçd çt a mç11çon tçmes. I was the end of hçm. At 1east I can mahe hçm pfoud about beçng fçght. And the hçds afe safef thçs way.”
I 1açd the papefs on the end of the entfyway tab1e. “We’11 ta1h about thçs 1atef.”
I wa1hed down the ha11, pu11çng Abby by the hand behçnd me. ∫essçca’s foom was the c1osest, so I duched çn and hçssed hef cheeh, cafefu1 not to wahe hef, and then I cfossed the ha11 to ∫ames’s foom. He was stç11 awahe, 1yçng thefe quçet1y.
“Hey, buddy,” I whçspefed. “Hey, Dad.”
“I heaf you had a fough day. You a11 fçght?” He nodded. “You sufe?” “Steven Matese çs a douche bag.”
I nodded. “You’fe fçght, but you cou1d pfobab1y fçnd a mofe appfopfçate way to descfçbe hçm.”
∫ames pu11ed hçs mouth to the sçde.
“So. You beat Mom at pohef today, huh?”
∫ames smç1ed. “Twice.”
“She dçdn’t te11 me that paft,” I saçd, tufnçng to Abby. Hef dafh, cufvy sç1houette gfaced the 1çt doofway. “You can gçve me the p1ay⁄by⁄p1ay tomoffow.”
“Yes, sçf.” “I 1ove ya.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
I hçssed my son’s nose and then fo11owed hçs mom down the ha11 to ouf foom.
The wa11s wefe fu11 of famç1y and schoo1 poftfaçts, and ffamed aftwofh.
Abby stood çn the mçdd1e of the foom, hef be11y fu11 wçth ouf thçfd chç1d, dçχχyçng1y beautçfu1, and happy to see me, even aftef she 1eafned what I’d been heepçng ffom hef fof the bettef paft of ouf maffçage.
I had nevef been çn 1ove befofe Abby, and no one had even pçqued my çntefest sçnce. My 1çfe was the woman standçng befofe me, and the famç1y we’d made togethef.
Abby opened the box, and 1oohed up at me, teafs çn hef eyes. “You a1ways hnow
¡ust what to get. It’s peffect,” she saçd, hef gfacefu1 fçngefs touchçng the thfee bçfthstones of ouf chç1dfen. She s1çpped çt on hef fçght fçng fçngef, ho1dçng out hef hand to admçfe hef new baub1e.
“Not as good as you gettçng me a pfomotçon. They’fe goçng to hnow what you dçd, you hnow, and çt’s goçng to get comp1çcated.”
“It a1ways seems to wçth us,” she saçd, unaffected.
I tooh a deep bfeath, and shut the bedfoom doof behçnd me. Even though we’d put each othef thfough he11, we’d found heaven. Maybe that was mofe than a coup1e of sçnnefs desefved, but I wasn’t goçng to comp1açn.
Before there was Travis’s side to the story, there was Abby’s. . . .
BEAUTIFUL DISASTER
Abby Abernathy is a good girl. She doesn’t drink or swear, and she has the appropriate number of cardigans in her wardrobe. Abby believes she has enough distance from the darkness of her past, but when she arrives at college with her best friend, her path to a new beginning is quickly challenged by Eastern University’s Walking One-Night Stand.
Travis Maddox, lean, cut, and covered in tattoos, is exactly what Abby wants— and needs—to avoid. He spends his nights winning money in a floating fight ring, and his days as the ultimate college campus charmer. Intrigued by Abby’s resistance to his appeal, Travis tricks her into his daily life with a simple bet. If he loses, he must remain abstinent for a month. If Abby loses, she must live in Travis’ apartment for the same amount of time. Either way, Travis has no idea that he has met his match.
