Page 37 of Beautifully Reckless

Wendy had been in my bathroom with Abbey when I found them. I’d thought it was weird at the time. I’d wondered why Wendy had turned to me with smug satisfaction written across her face before she spoke.

“I thought you should see this.”

Fucking bitch was practically frothing at the mouth to throw Abbey under the bus. Not only that, Wendy fucking knew what I’d been through with Kylie. With Hope.

So she fucking knew my reaction wouldn’t be good.

She fucking knew it would trigger me.

Fuck.

“She said if I don’t run, then you will kill me.”

I stiffen at Abbey’s words.

“She. Said. Fucking. What?”

Abbey throws her hands up again.

“What was I supposed to think, Ringo? You went crazy. All my fears came true right before my eyes, and all of a sudden, I didn’t feel like a single person in that place would fight for me, so I ran. Okay? I ran like a coward, but you know what, I’m not trying to keepmealive. I’m trying to keep my baby alive. I’m trying to do the right thing for him or her because they deserve a chance at life.”

I’m vibrating with so much anger, I can’t see straight.

I’m ready to kill someone.

Not Abbey.

Never Abbey.

But Wendy?Fuck, yeah, I could kill that bitch in a heartbeat.

Wendy better be fucking gone when I go back to the Western, or that cunt will fucking wish she’d never been born.

Spinning, I give my Angel my back, because I don’t want her to see the fucking rage written across my face and think it’s directed at her.

Linking my fingers behind my head, I pace past the partition to the high ledge of the rooftop and look out over the city.

Everything is a fucking mess. It’s my fucking job to deal with it, but I can’t fucking fathom dealing with anything but Abbey right now.

I can’t explain it. I don’t understand the pull she has on me. I get that I’m all kinds of fucking wrong for her, but I can’t bring myself to walk the fuck away.

“Cameron?”

Fuck.

The way she says my name. My real fucking name. It does something to me.

Dropping my hands to my sides, inhaling deeply, I try, and fucking fail to calm down.

“For over three weeks I was scared you would find me.” Her voice is soft behind me. So fucking broken that I feel it burrowing inside my chest. “But I was also scared you wouldn’t even try.”

I turn.

Because that?

That fucking wrecks me.

As she stands with the evening breeze kicking up her hair, her arms wrapped over her bump as she curls into herself like she’s trying to hold herself together, I know, without a doubt, that I’ll do everything ittakes to protect her and her child, even if it kills me.

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