Chapter fifty-four

Abbey leaned over the small sink in the diner restroom.  She poked tenderly at the side of her face.  A bruise already started to form in the shape of the butt of the gun.  Abbey sighed, instinctively tugging the neck of her uniform closed as she fought the sensation of the thief’s finger between her breasts.

“Where is she?” a thick Irish brogue pierced the air.

Abbey’s heart slammed in her chest as her eyes popped wide open.  How did he find out?

Abbey slowly drifted from the restroom into the dining room of the restaurant.  She couldn’t lift her eyes.  Abbey could see the police tape lying on the floor, obviously torn apart by a very angry Irishman.  The furious chatter of the police investigators indicated Sloan was persona non grata in their crime scene.  It didn’t matter.  Nothing could stop Sloan’s power and money.

Abbey raised her eyes hesitantly.  There Sloan stood in the middle of the diner, a black force in his tailored Armani suit and Italian leather boots.  Abbey waited.  Sloan would start to roar any second now.  He would demand her quit the diner.  Abbey tensed, her eyes dropping to the floor, as she waited for the outburst to start.

Abbey choked on the sob bubbling in her throat.  Tears burned her cheeks as she began to tremble.  She had been able to stay strong while the police questioned her.  With Sloan her resolve broke.

Abbey was crushed against a concrete wall of man.  Abbey buried her tear stained face into Sloan’s linen shirt, her sobs escaping against his chest.  A pair of strong arms clenched around her, embracing her closer.

“Shhh…” Sloan coaxed, his lips pressed against her hair.  “Everything is alright now.  Nothing will ever harm you again.  I promise you.”

Abbey clung to Sloan’s suit coat, unable to stop her tears.  Sloan brushed her hair away from her forehead.  He silently examined her quickly darkening flesh.

“Abigail, you need to be seen by a doctor,” Sloan advised tenderly.

“I’m fine, Sloan.”

“I told her she needed to go in the ambulance,” Barker interjected.  “She wouldn’t listen.”

“Because I am fine,” Abbey insisted.

“Abigail,” Sloan chided.

“I can’t afford to go to the hospital,” Abbey confessed.

Sloan titled her chin carefully so he could look into her eyes.  “Abigail, I will take care of it.”

“Sloan, you can’t keep solving all my problems.”

Sloan threw back his head with a laugh.  “Yes I can.  I’m your husband.  That’s my privilege.”

Abbey looked up at his amused face tiredly then laid her head against his chest.  Her head throbbed relentlessly.

Sloan wrapped his arm around Abbey’s waist to support her then nodded his thanks to Barker.  Sloan led Abbey past the broken crime tape and furious detectives to the waiting Hummer.


About triciaandersen

I am the author and illustrator of the children's book "The Peculiar Princess". I am also the author of two adult fantasy romance novels, "The Sorceress of Savon" and "The Woodcutter King of Muladin". Along with being an author I am married to a wonderful guy and have three beautiful children. I coach youth track and field, sew and chase my children around to their various activities.

Posted on July 6, 2012, in author, books, fiction, novel, romance, story, Uncategorized, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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