Page 35 of Gideon

“No, I don’t mean don’t touch me.” Confused, I looked at Dion, and he simply pulled at his jacket, and I took her in, understanding flooding me. She meant don’t touch meyet.

“Can I help you get a shower, baby?”

She nodded and more tears fell. She scrambled out of the tatted remnants of a god-awful red dress and then let me take her hand. I hesitated, wanting to get in with her, but not wanting to scare her even more by stripping.

“You’re not cold, Daddy,” she whispered, which was Abby-speak for I needed to strip, and I did so with relief. I turned the shower on then lavished her with attention. Every inch of skin was cleaned. Every bruise kissed. She leaned into me and closed her eyes when I washed her hair. I’d just lifted her out when Dion knocked and said the doc was here, so I bundled her up in a robe, shrugged on some shorts, and carried her back into the bedroom.

“I need the blue one,” she whispered and yanked my shirt that she’d worn before out of the laundry basket, and I shielded her as I helped her into it, ridiculously glad that she might find some comfort with what I’d worn.

Doc appeared as if he was waiting for my signal, tutting and examining her in his usual calm manner once I nodded, and he soon had her breathing slower. “Just a bit banged up, Abby,” he said. “Anywhere else I need to check?” I held my breath, knowing what he was asking, but Abby shook her head. I didn’t even show the doc out, just climbed in bed with her and she willingly let me pull her into my arms.

“I knew you’d come for me,” Abby whispered, and I had to swallow hard.

“Because you’re mine,” I confirmed.

“No,” Abby said and yawned. “Because I still have five days.”

I opened my mouth to ask what she meant, but she was out like a light.

Three days later, I was frantic. Doc had been to see her, and so had Margaret. He had even brought a therapist to see her named Anna, who reminded me of a pixie. She was barely five feet tall, had blue hair, and looked like she should be sitting on a toadstool in a fairy garden.

She spent a long time with Abby while I paced the kitchen, Doc watching me steadily. Max, Dion, and Walker were taking it in turns to be here as well, and currently Max was sitting on a kitchen stool. “I get it’ll take a long time,” I said, “but she wanted me for comfort almost immediately and still she’s getting worse.” She didn’t even sleep in my arms last night, just rolled over. “I don’t know what to do.”

Max just shook his head because I knew he felt helpless enough about Clare. He’d even tried to see her again, but she’d refused. Then there was still the matter of Jonathan Rice and Blakeny to deal with, but I knew Maddox wanted in on that.

A moment later the pixie walked into the kitchen, and I nearly pounced on her before she held her hand up. “Everything Abby said is confidential, but I have one question. She needs to continue her therapy, but she says she won’t be living here in two days, so I’m going to need her new address.”

It was a good thing I was near a chair because my legs gave out on me. I glanced at Max. “She’s leaving me?”

Anna smiled gently. “Like I said, anything we discuss is confidential, but she seemed to think you knew.”

I gazed at her in utter confusion.

“She was adamant she had two days left, so if you could give me her address, I’d appreciate it.”

The doc just said he’d email her the details when he had them and they both left. I hadn’t moved. “She’s leaving me,” I repeated hoarsely. It was all my fault. I probably reminded her of all the horrible things that had happened. No wonder she hated me.

“Isn’t that a little specific, though?” Max said.

“What?” I snapped. “Yeah, leaving me in two days is pretty specific.”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. Whytwodays? Why not tomorrow or three days even? You know how her mind works better than anyone. Why does she think she’s leaving specifically in two days?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it and groaned. “Baby girl,” I whispered, then looked at Max. “Because I screwed up again.” He grinned, and while I was pleased to see the first glimmer of lightness in the man, I wanted to slap myself. It was the two weeks. I’d thought I was giving us both a chance to get to know each other better. I knew I’d rushed everything, and between that fucker Junior and her job, she’d been overwhelmed. She had to have taken the two weeks as if that were an end date. Nine foster homes in fifteen years? Of course, she expected it to be temporary.

But what could I do to convince her otherwise?

I smiled. “Max, I need you to go do something for me.”

“Anything,” he said, standing up. I eyed his expensive tailored pants.

“You might want to get some jeans on.”

He blinked and looked down at himself. “Why?”

“Because dog slobber and hair are a bitch to get off.”

Abigail

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