Page 108 of Johnathan

John nodded. “I knew Seb would have people who he kept in contact with that would feed him info about where the FBI was holding Marco, and he’d be the first person to know if anything happened. We talked yesterday. The fucker is still in a black site. Hopefully rotting slowly to death.”

“So, who else would call and say those things to Abby? Who would be disguising their voice and creeping on your house while you’re away at work?”

“I have no idea. Shit. I need to call Hank and tell him what happened. I can’t go back out tonight. Again.”

“He’ll listen. I’m off the next few nights if you want Abby and Katy to come stay with us.”

“I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

“Anytime.

“Stop.” His voice held more bark than he’d been meaning for it to. But she was fucking packing a bag, shoving her clothes into it while it sat on their bed.

“No. I’m going. What if Marco is going to try to take Katy? You know the Santoros traffic women and children.” She pressed her hand to her stomach and shrank down into herself.

“Baby, that doesn’t make sense. He’d go after Emma and Addie. But it’s not him.”

“It makes perfect sense, John. If he takes me, he gets to finish what he started. Emma said I’m the first person to ever survive an attack from him. Andyousaved me. If he takes Katy… he takes your whole world away from you. Oh my god. That’s his plan. He’s going to take her.”

“Baby, look at me.” John placed a hand on each side of her head and waited until her eyes met his. When they did, he saw the pure panic racing towards the surface.

“I-I can’t… John…”

“Breathe, Abby.” John stepped towards her, moving so her back was firmly pressed against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s just a panic attack, sweetheart. You’re okay. Everything is going to be okay as long as you just breathe.”

“He can’t hurt h-her. Or y-you.” She was hyperventilating. Her breaths were coming so short and so fucking rapid that he knew she was going to pass out if he didn’t get through to her.

“It. Is. Not. Him. Do you hear me? Do you understand? It’s not Marco, and I’ll call Sebastian right now to have him confirm that. So just breathe.”

Abby clawed at her jacket, and John pressed her hands down to her sides before reaching up to pull the zipper down. He didn’tjust lower it past her neck. He kept going until the entire thing was undone, and he was able to pull her body free from the fabric. When she was out of it, Abby turned and buried her face into his chest.

They fell into silence, but John never stopped stroking his fingers over her exposed skin, letting her soak up his calm until her breaths elongated and returned to a normal rhythm.

“How can you know?” she whispered. “How can you know for sure that it’s not him?”

“Seb calls me with updates. When you were recovering from your attack and they caught him, I made Sebastian promise to keep me in the loop with updates about Marco. We talked yesterday. Yesterday, Abby. He’s still in custody. It’s not him.”

“I didn’t know you did that.”

“I didn’t want you to know, baby. I don’t ever want you to have to think about him.”

She nodded, her head returning to its place on his chest. She reached up and massaged her head. He was so fucking thankful he hadn’t taken off his jacket when he’d gotten home or in the time since then, because he was able to reach into his pocket and get something to help her without having to let her out of his arms. He uncapped the vial and the familiar scent of peppermint filled the room. With a little of the oil on his fingertips, John began to massage her temples.

“You don’t have to?—”

“Abby. I know your head hurts. Just let me.”

His fingers slid over her skin as he continued to gently massage the oil into her temples, before he moved down her jaw and onto her neck. “You are too good for me, John,” she whispered. “So sweet. Your touch saved my life, and here you are using it to heal me, too.”

“We should get to bed.”

“I just… if it wasn’t Marco,” she whispered as John helped her stand. “Then who the hell was it?”

“I don’t know, baby. But we’re going to figure it out. Together.”

Thirty-Two

“I’ve always loved that house.” Abby pointed out the window as John turned into the Red River Ranch driveway.

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