I smiled thinly at the tearful compliment. “I’m just glad you didn’t get hit.” It hit me then I hadn’t even checked either one of us for wounds. I took a step back to survey Abigail’s bare legs, but there wasn’t any sign of blood on her. “You weren’t hit, right?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t think that I was at least.”
“I don’t see any blood or anything.”
“Roco just texted me,” Libby said, coming from the bathroom with a pale face and phone in hand. “What should I say? He’s looking for me back at the shop.”
“Tell him that you went down to another shop,” I said. “Whatever one you can think of that is away from here.”
“Do you honestly think he had something to do with it?” Libby asked.
I felt Abigail rest her head against my shoulder with a quivering breath. I didn’t miss the quick look Libby sent her.
“Yes,” I said, darkly. “I have no doubts. I’ve had a feeling from the day he was here at the hotel trying to talk to you both.”
“He kept tabs through me,” Libby said, aghast. “I’m sorry, Abi. I had no idea. I shouldn’t have forced you to come on this trip.”
Her fingers danced across her phone screen. “Done,” she said and looked up at me the. “Let’s get the fuck out of here before someone else comes back.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - ABIGAIL
I couldn’t let go of Harley’s hand no matter how hard I tried not to hold on. I had no idea if he was annoyed with it either, but he never pulled away. His fingers remained strong and steady intertwined in mine the entire flight back to the United States.
The sight and sounds of Manhattan never felt more welcoming the moment we touched down in a private plane my Dad sometimes used to charter around the city if he had too. Two SUV’s with armed guards waited for us when we walked outside of the airport.
“Tell me everything that happened between you two later,” Libby whispered into my ear, hugging me tightly to her. “I’m sorry, Abi. I can’t forgive myself for the danger I put you into.”
I hugged her back fiercely. The both of us looked like hell with our pale skin, unbrushed hair, and smudged mascara. I know Libby hadn’t slept once on the entire flight back as well.
“Don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault. Text me to let me know when you made it home okay.”
“I will,” Libby said, and she nodded at Harley who stood at my side still with his hand in mine. “Thanks, Harley. I’m sorry I was such a pain in the ass the entire time.”
Harley didn’t say anything. We watched her disappear into an SUV before Harley’s hand guided me to the one waiting for us. He let go of my hand before reclining back into the leather seat with a long sigh.
“I never thought it’d feel good to be back in Manhattan,” he said, rolling the window down a crack to let fresh air in.
“No kidding,” I said, and resisted the urge to reach across to grab his hand. We were now surrounded by drivers hired from my Dad to take us back to our Manhattan apartment. “I used to hate it sometimes— the city noise. I used to want to live in a small town upstate to just escape the constant traffic and noise.”
We fell into silence while the SUV navigated through traffic. I half-listened to Harley talk with the other drivers about the details of what happened. I'm sure one of the drivers was from the FBI, or a cop, knowing my Dad. He had been furious on the plane phone when I had called to talk to him.
My days of living the country were officially done.
The weight of that realization along with the memory of what had happened on the beach settled on me painfully. It had been such a good time on that beach too. I glanced over at Harley who was distant as usual whenever people were around. I was paid to protect you.
I swallowed down the bitterness of it. I had made the decision to be with him. For that brief moment with him, I had felt alive and free of everything. I refused to regret losing myself to the person who had saved my life on the beach without hesitation. The person I was falling in love with.
The second I entered through the front door of my parents Manhattan apartment, my Mom swept me up into a tearful and nearly hysterical embrace. I patted her on the back awkwardly while I tried to fight tears off too.
“My poor baby girl,” she cried, sweeping a hand across my forehead. “I can’t believe this happened to you. Do we know who they were?”
My Dad came from the kitchen. “Not yet,” he said, and also gave me a tight hug that nearly brought me to tears again. “Are you okay, Abigail?”
“I’m fine, Dad,” I said, batting away the urge to sob. “I’m here because of Harley.”
“I know. Aren’t you happy I hired someone to come with you?”
I smiled a little at the sarcastic question. He released me to nod over at Harley who stood politely behind us with his hands tucked behind his back. “We cannot express our gratitude for saving Abigail. Your check is doubled.”