The Ahern Brothers Collection - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,37

come here and stay is my own to make. Not yours.” She faces me with a conviction I haven’t seen in a while.

The last time she did that was when she turned down Dad’s offer to send her to DU, all expenses paid. Abby had a plan and had saved all the money my parents had given her for lunch, clothing, and her allowance. She had enough to leave the state and find work. I offered to pay for any school in the country. Dad eventually ended up picking up the tab, but she wasn’t afraid to start from zero, as long as she was far away from this city.

“If I’m saying I want to live here, it’s because I do.” She pokes me in the chest. “And you have to respect that. It’s time you treat me as an equal, not a like a flimsy piece of paper that’s about to blow away.”

“You’re so many things, but flimsy isn’t one of them,” I say smiling.

“Then don’t treat me like I’m about to crumble. I get it, I’m not normal. Just don’t make it so obvious.”

“You hate the word ‘normal,’” I remind her. “You need to understand that I won’t stop pampering you—or worrying about you. I just want to see you happy—and safe. That’s my main goal in life.”

I run a hand through my hair, closing my eyes briefly. “Sorry. I thought that by bringing you here we could finally be together.” I breathe harshly. “But now, I’m not sure if it was a good idea.”

“Now that we’re together, are you sorry about it?” She angles her head, cupping my head with her soft hands.

“Of course not. I’m thrilled that we’re giving this a chance,” I say. “It’s always been us. Together.” I say capturing her with my arms and bending my head down. I pull her closer against my body.

Chapter Nineteen

Abby

I nibble on my lip while searching for my phone. Where did I put it? Last night I counted the little crystals on the chandelier. The compulsive counting lasted for hours while I tried to fight the flashbacks. Since nothing worked, I tried Netflix on my phone. Nothing I chose numbed my mind enough. Hovering constantly in the background were thoughts of Wes and Peyton. It’s been more than a week since I saw her, but seeing her made every memory feel fresh.

Weston Ahern wants me happy, an emotion I’ve yet to feel.

Is it safe to tell him that I’m fresh out of happiness?

Poor guy. He tries so hard and nothing he does gets me to that point. The truth is that I haven’t been happy in years. Content, yes. But happy? What’s really the meaning of that word?

Happy or not, I still have to live my life and face the fear. Maybe I can’t speak about what happened, but I can live with it. That should be possible, shouldn’t it?

I jump into the shower before going to work, and I flinch as my scalp burns intensely. This time I skip the shampoo. I should stop scratching my head every time I panic. Counting the drops instead, I force the memories to the back of my mind. Today is a new day, a fresh start. A day where the feeling that someone is watching me might trigger a panic attack. I haven’t told Wes, but I swear, I can feel them close. One of them is watching me.

The need to escape increases. I don’t give in, because I won’t let them take more than they’ve already taken.

I turn off the shower, grab the towel, and clean the fogged mirror, taking a deep breath. The woman in front of me gives me a blank stare. Her eyes are bloodshot, and there are dark circles under her eyes. I’m on day three without any sleep.

“You need to get a grip,” I order her. “The way you’re living is pitiful. You have a great job, a wonderful boyfriend, and a future. Why are you still trapped by your past?”

Because what if they’ve found me and they’re following me? I whisper back at her.

My gaze drops. I can’t look at her. She’s going to remind me of his promise—the threat. I dry off and moisturize my skin before walking into my closet. I choose a pencil skirt and a sleeveless blouse with a black blazer. As I lift my hair and twist it, I cringe. Today is a wet, loose, curly hair kind of day. I wish I could change into more