The Ahern Brothers Collection - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,49
many questions I want to ask. What really happened to you, Abby? That’s the main one. If I begin inquiring, she’s going to shut down. I decide to keep quiet and listen to what she has to say.
“It’s like …” She shivers and rubs her arms. “Sometimes I feel like someone is watching me. Following me.”
I grasp the edge of the counter, my heart beating fast. Who could be watching her and why?
Abby shakes her head. “It sounds crazy,” she continues. “Most likely, it’s my mind playing tricks on me.”
“Who do you think would follow you, Abbs?”
“Never mind,” she says absently. “It’s probably all in my head. A few days in paradise should erase the bad dreams.”
Her dismissal doesn’t sit well with my stomach. We can try to search for a specialist later. My goal for the next few days is to make sure that she relaxes and forgets all about Denver. I need to find that witty girl I fell in love with. She’s somewhere underneath the storm raging inside her.
“After you have something to eat, we can spend a few hours at the pool,” I suggest preparing more sandwiches for Sterling and me. “You can forget everything that happened to you in the past two weeks.”
“That’s crazy talk. I wouldn’t want to forget them.” She takes the plate and sets it on the kitchen island. “It’s been difficult, but I’ll take all of that if it means I’m with you, Wes.”
My lips part in a grin. She chooses me over the pain she’s bearing. Heat radiates from my chest. I wish I could tell her how much that means to me. Even better, I’d take her to bed and show her how much she means to me. I’d love her slowly and carefully.
I wrap my arm around her and pull her closer. I kiss her forehead. Her eyes are closed. Her lips are parted, her breathing slow and even. I tilt her head to the side taking her mouth with mine. Her tongue meets mine. Her arms go around my waist and through my kiss I tell her every word I can’t say. How much I love her and need her. That if I could, I’d give my life so that she could stop suffering.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Wes
The sun is about to drop below the horizon. Abby leans against the railing, staring at the Tahoe sky. Streaks of orange, purple, and rose paint the evening. She loves the sunsets here. The colorful shades washing the trees and the lake with a golden glow. She’s always saying that people are like sunsets. Unique and each one beautiful on its own.
“Grandma made a point to watch them every day,” Abby says absently.
“Them?”
“The sunsets,” she chuckles and shakes her head. “Grandma used to say that no matter how bad the day was, the beauty of the setting sun could erase it.”
“You’re right. There’s no two alike.”
“Hey, gorgeous,” I call after her, lifting my phone and taking a picture of her.
The halo of light around her makes her look like an angel. She’s my own beautiful sunset.
“What else do you remember about your grandmother?”
She bites on her lip while exhaling deeply. “I lived with her from the time I was little. Mom moved back home with her right after I was born. A couple of days later she left saying that she was too young to deal with me.”
“How old was she?”
“Twenty-eight.” She shrugs, turning around and staring at the now dark horizon.
“Sorry.”
The trauma from being ditched by a parent never goes away. There’s always that inner child wondering “what is wrong with me?” Believing I must have done something terrible to be left behind—I must be unlovable.
“It’s all good. Grandma was amazing with me. She taught me how to count. We would count steps, marbles, rocks, and while we rode the bus we’d count cars.”
I hold on to the new pieces she’s giving me. Counting soothes Abby, and now I know the connection. Just like the importance of watching the sunsets.
“What happened to her?”
Abby turns around, tilts her head to the side, and exhales sharply. “Respiratory complications.”
“Who took care of you afterwards?”
“My mother had to come back.” She looks at me for several seconds, her lips pressed together. “Look, things weren’t pretty after Grandma died, and I’d rather not talk about my past. Can we talk about something else, please?”
“Did I upset you?”
“I feel like you’re psychoanalyzing me all the time,” she pauses, “It’s clear that our friendship has changed. We’re in this