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Page 14
“Hendrix…” I start.
“Yeah, I know he loves you, but I do too. And I think you love me so much that you hate me for it.”
“I do,” I agree. “But I can’t just take Abigail and leave the country. What about my mom? And Carter is part of Abby’s life.”
“Good thing I have a plan to make sure you don’t have to choose,” he says, leaning over to kiss the tip of my nose.
“You do? What’s the plan?”
“Let’s get some sleep for now,” Hendrix suggests. “You’ve worn me out tonight.”
“Oh, no. I don’t think so, mister,” I say. “You can’t just say something like that and expect me to go along with it. I need details!”
“I’ll tell you soon, sweetheart. Right now, though, you need to trust me. I promise everything will work out, okay?”
“Okay,” I agree on a sigh, snuggling down against his chest. There’s plenty of time for us to figure everything out. For the time being, I want to soak up this happy, peaceful moment and put off worrying until tomorrow. “Goodnight, Hendrix.”
“Goodnight, Libby.”
Chapter 29
Libby
It feels like my eyelids have only just closed from exhaustion of being with Hendrix a few more times during the night when a loud pounding has me startling awake.
“What’s that?” I drowsily ask Hendrix. “Woodpecker?”
“Company,” he responds before rolling out of bed and pulling on a pair of pants and a black t-shirt.
“Company?” I repeat, sitting up in bed and holding the sheets to my still naked chest.
“Yeah,” Hendrix replies, giving me a long once-over before he turns to find his shirt. “You should probably put some clothes on too. I doubt you’ll want our guests to see you like this, even if I do prefer you naked.”
“Are you sure you should answer the door?” I ask him. “What if Carter tracked us down?”
“Do you really think he would knock?” he points out.
“No, of course not.”
I climb out of bed and start putting on my clothes while Hendrix goes to answer the door. I hear a murmur of masculine voices—Hendrix and someone else’s—before the next sound that makes my heart stop.
Babbling.
Not just any babbling but a baby’s…my baby’s!
“Abigail?” I say aloud as I run out of the bedroom and down the hall, coming to an abrupt stop in the living room when I see Hendrix’s father holding my little girl.
“Mommy!” she squeals and then starts squirming in James Blake’s arms, so he lowers her to the ground. She toddles over to me in her pink footed pajamas with a big, toothy grin.
Grabbing her up, I squeeze her to me and inhale her sweet scent while telling her, “I missed you, so much!”
I’m still in shock and hugging my baby when I hear Hendrix ask his father, “Did everything go the way I wanted it?”
“Yeah, not a single hitch,” his dad answers, and then removes a black backpack from his shoulder and hands it to him. “It’s all in there.”
“Good. Thanks,” Hendrix responds.
Seeing James Blake alive answers my question—Hendrix didn’t kill him for giving him and his friends up to the feds. Maybe it was easier to forgive him since they didn’t get caught. At least, not yet.
What if that’s why James is here? Is he setting Hendrix up now?
And then it hits me…
“What are you doing with my daughter?” I ask James Blake.
“I told him to bring her up here because you missed her,” Hendrix explains.
“That’s great and all,” I say, moving her to my hip, “but how did he get her?”
“Your mother is probably losing her shit,” James says. “You may want to give her a call and tell her she’s with you.”
“You stole Abigail from my mother?” I ask him in a panicked whisper, unable to believe Hendrix would do something so extreme.
“She went in the bathroom and left my granddaughter alone last night, making it too easy.”
“Oh my god,” I mutter, with a shake of my head.
“You’re happy she’s here now, right?” Hendrix asks.
“Yes, but…”
“But nothing. You can go call your mom and tell her she’s fine,” Hendrix says, pulling out his phone, unlocking it, and bringing it over to me.
“Do you even want to hold her?” I ask. “She’s your daughter…”
His face is pinched before he says, “Not yet. I’ll give you two some time together first. Take her into the bedroom and call your mom.”
“Hendrix…” I start, but his father interrupts.
“Take the baby and go,” James grumbles. “Hendrix doesn’t have long to prepare.”
“Pop,” Hendrix says in warning. “Libby, please go call your mother. You know she’s probably worried sick. Carter too.” He grits out the last two words.
“Fine,” I huff before I turn and go back down the hall and into the bedroom, unable to figure out why Hendrix didn’t want to hold Abigail. I thought he was excited about us being together, being a family. He has big shoes to fill because Carter is a wonderful dad to our daughter.
I sit down on the bed with Abigail and she climbs over me and onto the mattress.
“Bouncy,” she says, getting to her feet and jumping up and down. “Bouncy…bouncy…bouncy.”
“Be careful, baby girl,” I warn her, reaching over and sitting her on her butt so I can dial my mom’s cell phone number.
“Hello?” she answers, sounding frantic.
“Mom, it’s Libby. Abigail is here with me.”
“Oh, thank heavens!” she exclaims. “I was so worried! She was here one minute and then she was just…gone!”
“I’m sorry to worry you like that, Mom. But she’s here and safe in my arms.”
“You need to call Carter! Why haven’t you called him yet, Libby? He deserves an explanation and he was just as worried about Abigail as I was, maybe even more so! He put out an Amber Alert to try and find the person who took her! Every law enforcement agency in the state has been looking for her!”
“Oh no,” I mutter, concerned someone could have seen Hendrix’s dad with her.
The sudden sound of sirens in the distance must be in my head, right? I’m simply imagining the worst possibility because we’re miles up in the quiet mountains where there’s nothing but the sound of nature.
“Mom, I have to go!” I exclaim before ending the call. I toss the phone down on the bed and pick up Abigail to carry her back into the living room.
“Stay in here,” Hendrix says from the open front door, over the sound of sirens that are getting much louder.
“What? Why? What’s going on?” I ask, looking between him and his father.
Coming over to me and Abigail, Hendrix runs his hand over her dark curls. “She does look like me. I’m not sure how I missed it before. Maybe because I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”
“Hendrix,” I start. “You need to hide!”
“Trust me,” he says, grabbing my chin and then giving me a quick kiss on my lips. “I’m going to give you everything I promised, okay? The three of us in our own slice of paradise. Will you please just trust me?”
“Yes,” I reluctantly agree.
“I love you,” he says, placing another kiss on my lips and then a kiss on Abigail’s forehead. “I love you both.”
“I love you too,” I tell him as the gravel crunches outside the cabin with the sound of several vehicles quickly approaching.
“Don’t worry,” Hendrix says as he turns away and starts back to the open doorway. “Everything is going to be fine. I’ll handle this.”
“What? How? If Carter is out there, he’ll recognize you, and he thinks you hurt me that day in the basement!” I say in a rush.
“Take care of them for me,” Hendrix says to his father. “And keep them inside.”
Chapter 30
Hendrix
This is it
. I’ve known from the start how this could all end.
I walk out of the cabin with my hands raised high above my head, the picture-perfect example of an innocent, law-abiding citizen.
No less than half a dozen men in uniform burst out of the patrol cars, their guns aimed at me a second later as they take cover behind the doors.
“Don’t move. Get down on the ground,” a voice orders, one I recognize as Carter’s.
He really hates me.
I just hope he hates me enough to end this here and now.
“Carter? Is that you? Coming with backup was smart considering how I kicked your wimpy ass the last time the two of us faced off.”
“Get down on the ground now, Blake!” he shouts again as he comes forward cautiously from between the cars.
“No,” I reply. “Are you really gonna shoot me? You know you want to. For Libby, your bride-to-be. Do you have any idea the things I’ve done to her over the last few days? God, I missed her, almost as much as she missed me.”
I feel the impact of the bullet hitting my chest before the loud BOOM sound even reaches my ears. The force of impact sends me backwards, flat on my ass. An explosion of crimson reminds me of the night I saved Libby when I killed the bastard who was going to hurt her.
It was worth it then.
And it’s worth it now.
I’m gasping for breath and running my fingers through the sea of red pouring from my chest when Carter’s face appears above me.
“See you in hell, you son of a bitch,” he says before he spits on me. He actually spits on me, as if shooting me in the heart wasn’t insult enough.
Libby
“Why is he doing this?” I ask Hendrix’s father, who is blocking the doorway. “Why didn’t you warn him you were being followed?” I yell at James, right before I hear the sound of a gun going off.
“No!” I scream as I cover Abigail’s head and try to push past James who won’t budge from the doorway. “Let me go!” I tell him. “Please! Take her!”
I hand my baby girl over and he has no choice but to hold her, then I slip out the door and run straight into Carter’s chest.
“Libby!” he says as he wraps me in his arms. “I knew you didn’t run! Is Abigail here and safe?”
“Yes, but I heard a gunshot…” I stand on my toes to look over his shoulder and see Hendrix on the ground, his chest gushing blood. “Hendrix!”
“Don’t look,” Carter says as he tries to drag me back inside the cabin. “I told him to get down and he wouldn’t.”
“Y-you shot him? How could you?” I scream as I try to break free from his grip.
“He’s a wanted man who kidnapped you and he resisted! I had no choice…he’s gone.”
“No! No, he can’t be! We have to get him to the hospital and try to save him!”
“The ambulance was following us in case Abby was hurt, they’ll do what they can. Now come on, let’s get you and the baby out of here and get you home,” Carter says as I watch two paramedics over his shoulder stroll casually toward Hendrix, not hurrying to see if they can try to save him. They’ve already decided he’s a lost cause, but I refuse to believe he’s gone.
“He has to be okay!” I sob. “He promised me…”
Chapter 31
Libby
Two days later…
The small, untidy office in the funeral home smells like death and old people.
Old people.
Not young ones like Hendrix, who was healthy and should’ve lived until at least his seventies!
“How can you possibly do all of this and act like it’s easy?” I ask James Blake when the funeral director leaves. He’s getting us the urn book to pick one out for the remains of the man I love. And the only reason James is not sitting in jail for kidnapping Abigail is because I lied and said Hendrix threatened his life if he didn’t bring her up to him on the mountain.
“This is what everyone expects me to do,” James responds flatly, staring straight ahead at the painting of Jesus on the wall behind the director’s desk.
“Not just the arrangements,” I say, grabbing two more tissues from the closest dispenser to blot my still leaking eyes and nose. “He was your son and now he’s gone! You’ll never see him…or-or talk to him again!”
“You’ve never lost someone you love, have you?” he asks, finally turning his dark gaze to me.
“No.”
“I’m sorry,” he says simply, reaching over to give the top of my hand a squeeze. “It’ll be better soon.”
How the hell can he say it will be better soon when it feels like my chest has been ripped in half and can’t ever be sewn back together?
Abigail will never know her father. He didn’t even get a chance to hold her.
“Here we go,” the ancient, balding director says when he hobbles back in the office and plops a three-inch binder down on the desk in front of us with the page flipped to all the various types of urns.
When James starts flipping through the depressing book, I say, “I want to see him.”
“No, Libby,” James huffs, at the same time the director says, “I’m so sorry, ma’am, but Mr. Blake has already been cremated.”
“What? When? Why didn’t you let us say goodbye first?” I shout as I get to my feet.
“I did say goodbye, in the hospital’s morgue,” James replies. “I thought it was best if you remembered him alive rather than…”
“I wanted to say goodbye! I-I needed to say goodbye!” I yell at his blurry face since the tears are obscuring my view. “He’s gone and I can’t fucking breathe! I needed to see him to know this is real and not a nightmare!”
Unable to stay in the confined space that stinks like death and menthol any longer, I race out of the office and don’t stop until I’m outside on the sidewalk, gasping in the fresh air that seems to stick in my chest.
I had just learned how to live without Hendrix, and now, it’s like I’m going through the hell all over again. This time, it’s even worse than before because I always hoped he would come back for me.
There’s no coming back from death, though.
I’ll never see Hendrix again.
Abigail will never know her father.
And because of my horrible decisions, she’s also losing the only father she’s ever known.
Carter is packing his things right now, moving out after I told him the truth about everything yesterday—that I loved Hendrix in a way I could never love him. I also told Carter I could never marry him, and that he shouldn’t waste his time waiting for me to change my mind.
We both agreed he could still see Abigail whenever he wanted because it’s not fair to her if he disappears completely from our lives.
I collapse onto the pavement and try to remember how to breathe while I wait for Hendrix’s father to pick out a fucking urn, the last place his son will ever rest.
Even knowing that’s what he was doing, I’m still caught off guard when James walks out the door, holding a black marble vase under his arm like a football.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Th-that’s him? That’s Hendrix? That’s…all that’s…left of him?” I ask as the hiccups invade my gasps of air, making my chest unbelievably tight.
“Want to hold it?” he asks, offering it to me like it’s no big deal.
Carefully, I take it from him and hug it to my chest as sobs rock my body.
I knew he was gone but holding his remains finally makes it real.
“Come on. Let’s get you home,” James says. “You need to get some sleep, Libby. It’s not good for Abigail to see you like this. She’s been upset too…”
“Can’t. I can’t sleep or eat or stop crying,” I tell him through the sniffles.
“We’ll find you some sleeping pills. Let’s go,” he says, reaching down to pull me up by my elbows. “The worst is almost over.”
“I really wish you would stop fucking saying that,” I snap at him when I jerk my arms out of his grip and storm off to th
e car with Hendrix in my arms.
I wake up from a deep sleep because something brushes over my cheek, tickling it and making me reach up to swat it away with my heavy, weak arm.
When I feel it again, I try to crack my eyelids open to see what’s touching me but after taking three sleeping pills after the first two didn’t work, it’s nearly impossible.
Then I feel the same flutter on my parted lips, and I’m certain someone is kissing me, so I force my eyes open, ready to yell at Carter to leave me the hell alone.
I gasp at the sight above me, certain I must be dreaming because it’s not Carter.
Then his big palm clamps down tightly over my mouth, making more of my sleepy haze fall away.
“Shh, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I need you to keep quiet.”
“Hendrix?” I whisper when he moves his hand away. “How? Is this a dream? You had a hole in your chest!”
I reach up to press my palm to his chest through his black tee. He covers my hand with his and then wraps me in a suffocating hug.
“It was a bag of blood, a bulletproof vest, and a little acting,” he whispers in my ear. “Hurt like a son of a bitch.” Kissing my neck, he adds, “My pop knows the coroner, so he called in a favor. And the paramedics don’t make shit. They were easy to pay off.”
“It was a lie?” I say in disbelief. “You getting shot and dying in front of me was a horribly evil, awful lie?”
My arms feel heavier than usual, so it takes a little more effort than normal to push him away while also trying to raise my palm and slap him across his stupid, gorgeous face.
“Why?” I ask him as more tears burst free. He grabs my wrists and places them around his neck instead. “What if…what if Carter had shot you in the head?”
“Shh,” Hendrix says. “Keep it down. I don’t want your mother to know I’m here. And I did it because no one bothers looking for a dead man. I’m sorry, Libby. It was the only way to make sure you and Abigail would be safe to live your life.”