Page 69 of Coming Home

The bubbles tickled her nose as she did the same and then held it in her hand, watching him to see what explanation he might offer her.

His gaze met hers, anguish in his eyes. “She doesn’t want to marry me. She’s going to marry someone else.” He took another drink, and she took one more sip before setting her flute on a nearby table.

“The thing is,” he continued, “I know him. I thought he was my friend.” He cursed softly and then downed the contents of his glass. “I guess it’s better I found out now than us going through the ceremony and her cheating on me with him.”

“I agree,” she said. “I know you are in a world of pain now, but in the long run, you’ll be happy you didn’t commit to marriage with her.”

“Do you think there’s someone else out there for me, Ainsley?” he asked, his gaze intense.

“I hope so,” she said encouragingly. “Right now, though, you’re going to need to take time to heal. You don’t want to start up another relationship quickly.”

She blinked a few times, her eyes suddenly feeling heavy. Her bottom lip also felt as if it were going numb. An odd feeling rippled through her.

He took a step toward her and picked up her abandoned flute. Bringing it to her lips, he urged, “Drink.”

She did so, draining the glass, as if she had no will of her own or control over her movements. She began to grow dizzy and said, “I need to sit down.” The words sounded faraway and slurred to her ears.

“Why don’t you come upstairs and rest a minute?” he said, his voice solicitous and yet sounding odd.

She tried to focus on his image, but it kept shifting.

He slipped an arm about her waist and draped her arm over his shoulder. They began moving toward the stairs.

Suddenly, she found herself in a chair, not remembering how she got there. Nausea filled her. She was going to be sick. She tried to push herself up to reach the bathroom. But her hands didn’t cooperate. She looked down and saw they were somehow bound together. Confusion filled her, and she tried to stand without their help but couldn’t seem to move. Her whole body tingled. She made a noise, knowing she was about to throw up, but a mixing bowl appeared in front of her. She vomited into it. The bowl moved away, and she glanced up as someone dabbed her mouth with a handkerchief.

It was... Anthony Abbott…

He smoothed her hair, tucking a lock behind her ear.

“What?” she asked groggily.

“There was no Becky,” he told her quietly. “No wedding.”

“No... wedding?” she echoed, disoriented.

“No, Ainsley. It was all a ruse. To meet you.”

“Why?” was all she could get out, her thoughts clouded, fear pooling low in her belly.

“I wanted to meet the woman my attorney married,” he said brightly. “You see, I was one of Jackson’s clients.”

Even though her brain seemed fogged, she knew instinctively who this man was.

“You’re... the one. His last client in L.A. The one he got off.”

“Ah, I didn’t know I was the last one. I only knew Jackson had left California and come to his hometown. Had that been the plan all along, Ainsley? Were you engaged while Jackson defended me?”

She was having trouble forming thoughts, much less putting words together, but she knew to give no more information to this monster. Ainsley pretended to say something and then closed her eyes, hoping to buy time.

That was the last thing she remembered.

CHAPTER 25

Jackson landed at LAX and was glad he would only be in town for the day. With no bags to claim, he called an Uber and was soon on his way to the storage facility. He went inside the office when he arrived and arranged to give up the space by the end of the month. He went to the unit and unlocked it, walking through the small space. He didn’t know how many of the clothes packed away in the numerous boxes he would wear since many of them were suits, dress shirts, and ties. Still, he would have them brought to the Cove and see what he truly wished to keep before he gave away anything. He had gone through a list of the furnishings he had with Ainsley and Rylie and knew which pieces would go to the new house and which ones would go straight to Rylie’s store for resale.

The moving van arrived, and he greeted the movers. The driver handed him a tablet, and he quickly read through the paperwork before signing.

The driver reclaimed and skimmed over it, saying, “I see we are making two stops. One at a house, and one at a store? Same town.”

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