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Maybe that was why I tried to run away to join the military but, as usual, his reach far extended mine.
It wouldn't soon. That was what I was here to make sure of.
Abby raised her dark eyes to meet mine, hers sheened in a curtain of unshed tears.
So maybe my father...and one other important reason.
When the boys started a quiet game of poker that fast became rowdy, I pushed back my chair and slipped around to Abby’s side of the table, crouching next to her.
Helix wiggled her way beneath the table and put her head on my lap, begging for pats when she should have been trained better. But, like everyone in the house, I indulged the cute as fuck fur baby and scratched her ears until she whined and rubbed her head on my thigh.
“Looks like you’ve got one girl wrapped around your fingers,” Abby murmured.
She smiled at me with clear eyes, little trace of her earlier grief, but I knew as well as she did that it wasn’t the visible scars that made us hurt most.
“Maybe. You wanna get some air?” I muttered back, conscious of the Brit’s sharp gaze on me even as he downed another beer.
That one I needed to watch my back with. The rest were too fucking noble to stab me with a butter knife, let alone a sharp blade.
Morals did that to a person.
Pity mine had been erased by the time I turned ten years old.
Abby nodded. “Sure. Where are you sleeping?” she asked, her brow furrowing.
I grinned. “Come on. I’ll show you.” I held out a hand below the table level where no one else could see the movement, letting her make her choice.
Her warm fingers curling around mine never felt so damn good.
CHAPTER FIVE
ABBY
Icurled up on oneend of Ruski’s swag, his pillow propped against my lower back as the purple haze deepened into a nighttime skyline of black velvet studded with diamonds. He insisted I take the pillow and I didn’t argue, knowing that getting up would be a hell of a challenge. Maybe I could roll back through the door to my room? Sleeping on the floor was always an option. At least it was flat and cool.
A cool night breeze that tasted of salt and sea ruffled Ruski’s hair. I hadn’t seen him for years, but he hadn’t changed that much. Hair a little shorter, his boyish charm honed to a harder edge, maybe. The thought of what he would feel like pressed thigh to thigh against me had crossed my mind more than once in the last few hours.
