Chapter Thirty-Six
Rian
I bend forward to kiss him again, just before someone clears his throat…Cillian.
For a second, I stiffen, having forgotten that there was anyone in the room with us. All I’ve thought about is Abbott since the moment I realized he was missing.
We hadn’t had time to figure out what we were stepping into. All that had mattered was Abbott’s safety. The governor had only had a few men with him, who were easy to deal with, while Conan and I snuck into the house from the back.
When I’d walked in and seen that motherfucker with a gun on Abbott, it had taken everything inside of me not to lose control. My body is still shaking with the adrenaline and fear that nearly corroded my insides when I saw them…when I think about how close I came to losing him.
“Want to introduce me or what?” Cillian asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
Yes. That’s probably a good idea. Making out with the partner my son has never met is bad etiquette, but I just…don’t want to stop touching him.
“Rian, get up,” Abbott says, only for me.
I roll off him, and he immediately tries to stand. I pull him back down, eyes shooting toward the windows, and tug him against the wall, like how the others are now standing. He sways on his feet, and I’m there, holding him, steadying him. I’ll never let him go again if I don’t have to.
“I’m fine,” he says, but I don’t let go of his hand as we both give our attention to Cillian, who’s watching us—his studying gaze familiar because I know I often wear the same one.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for us to meet this way.
Thank you…for coming with your dad…to…rescue me.
” Abbott closes his eyes. “Jesus. I’m an idiot.
” He opens them again. “I’m not usually like this, I swear. I just…”
“Shh.” I kiss his temple. “It’s been a big day.” I have similar emotions wreaking havoc on my insides, but I’m a little more used to some of this than he is.
“I’m Abbott,” he says again, while Cillian continues to watch us. The longer it goes, the tighter the knots in my gut twist.
Did he change his mind? Is it different now that he’s seeing me with someone else? “Cillian?” I ask.
And then—just as my nape tickles, that familiar sensation that I’ve only gotten because of Moira or Abbott—Cillian reaches up and rubs the back of his neck at the same time as I do…
and it hits me. Maybe none of this is because of Abbott at all.
I mean, it is, but it also isn’t. Maybe it was just Moira all along telling me…
yes. Him. He’s the one. And now she’s telling Cillian too.
“It’s her,” I say.
“What is?” Cillian asks.
“That. What you’re feeling. It’s her. I feel it too.” She wants us to know it’s okay. That this is the way it’s supposed to be…that she loves us and wants us happy, and it’s okay to move on.
Cillian holds my gaze for a second, then two and three. His eyes get glassy. I give him a nod, and he wipes them before looking at Abbott.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, shaking Abbott’s hand. “Thanks for making my dad…less miserable.”
I smile. “Less miserable? That’s the best you can do?”
“In case you didn’t notice, we were in the middle of a life-or-death situation here. It was the first thing that came to mind.” He gives his attention back to Abbott. “Thank you for making him happy. It’s been a long time since he has been. It’s what my mom would want…it’s what I want.”
“I…thank you,” Abbott says. “He makes me happy too, and I don’t know that I’ve ever been happy before him. At least not since my mom died.”
Hearing Abbott say that fills me up, but at the same time, I wonder what the fuck is wrong with everyone else. How no one has seen how fucking incredible this man is. The man with the world’s biggest heart, who saves lives, but has somehow found it in himself to love me, even though I take them.
But now isn’t the time. We have a lot to figure out.
“We need to figure out what the fuck to do here,” I say.
“This isn’t a normal body. This is the governor of the fucking state,” Conan adds. “People are going to notice him missing.”
“I wanted to kill him myself,” I growl, looking down at the motherfucker, flashes of him pointing a gun at Abbott playing through my head. “He was supposed to be mine.”
“He…it was him. I don’t understand why he tried to have me killed,” Abbott says.
I look at the others in the room, giving them a silent warning, making sure they don’t tell him the rest of it. He needs to know, but not now. That should be done when it’s just the two of us.
I hear footsteps on the stairs, and a second later, Tiernan and the others come back in. “One shooter. We found where he took the shot from, but he wasn’t there. We searched, but nothing,” Tiernan updates me.
“This was a professional hit,” Finan needlessly says—one shot, hitting the target perfectly in the head. Definitely a professional kill shot. “And these bodies…these aren’t official bodyguards.”
“No, they’re not,” Abbott says. “I noticed that too. I know the men my father has had when he needed protection, and this was different. Also, I could tell by some of the things he said that he was worried about something. He kept telling me I didn’t know what I’d done.”
“And it was clear something is going on that involves us,” I add.
How we would have any connections to this man outside of Abbott, I have no idea.
“He was dirty. I think that much is obvious. Whoever shot him…they only went after him. They could have taken at least some of us out too, but they didn’t…
” Is there a reason behind that? Or just that they only cared about Preston?
If they had something on the governor, they’re likely the kind of people who know who we are too. Why were we left standing?
“But they know we were here,” Cillian adds, and there are a million ways that could come back to bite us. “And if you’re saying something else is tying us to whatever the governor had going on…what does it mean that they know we were here with him?”
I don’t know. None of this is adding up, and I don’t like unanswered questions.
“What do you want us to do?” Conan asks.
“First, we need to figure out how we’re dealing with these bodies, and then we can handle the rest.”
Before I can continue, Abbott says, “You guys should leave. The last thing we need is you tied to it for any reason. I can just tell them my father drugged me and—”
“That motherfucker drugged you?” I snarl, hardly able to contain my anger.
“Dad. Focus.” Cillian throws a half-smile my direction. “Fuck, you’re worse than T when someone looks at Dean wrong.”
He’s right, but Christ, I wish I could have been the one to kill him. Slowly. “Tell us everything you know first,” I say to Abbott. “Can you do that?”
“Yes,” he replies, then repeats everything he can remember from when he arrived here—his father’s message, the call, taking a drink, and then waking up to his father on the phone.
Abbott is a trouper through it all, dealing with all this much better than I thought he would.
But then, it’s not like I haven’t pulled him into shit since the moment I met him—kidnapping him, threats from both Conan and me…
leading him to the woods, thinking he would die.
My hold on him tightens. He shouldn’t even be here with me after everything, but he is, and I damn sure plan to deserve him.
“He’s working with people, and it sure aren’t official,” Finan says.
“But who?” Conan asks.
“That’s the million-dollar question,” I reply.
“Until we get some real answers, we need to tread very carefully.” I think for a moment, trying to figure out the best thing to do.
“Don’t tell them what we know about your father.
You were here for a visit. Someone shot him through the window.
That’s all you know.” This whole situation is off.
I feel it in my bones, and if there is one thing I always do, it’s trust my gut, and my gut is screaming right now that somehow, in a way I don’t understand, this involves us.
“What about the other bodies?” Rory asks.
“Take everyone but the governor with you. That’s why I said no guns if we could keep from it. Easier cleanup. Take photos of their faces so we can try to ID them.” We checked for cameras, and there are none, but then, that makes sense if the governor had illegal shit going on here.
“Jesus. I can’t believe this is happening.
What the fuck is going on here?” Abbott threads his fingers through his hair, pulling the short strands.
His eyes dart toward his father and then back to me.
He sways slightly, and I think the whole day is hitting him now.
That he’s really taking in what happened.
“Hey. Shh. You’re good. I can stay with you. We’ll say I was here with you. Maybe the shot was meant for me.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I want you as far away from this as possible. I don’t want to risk you. I can do this.”
“You can, but I’m not leaving you. Your dad was just shot by a sniper.” What if they come back?
“Rian…you know they’re gone. If they wanted to take us out, they would have right then. They’ll know we’d look for them and would be prepared now. We need to go.” This from Tiernan.
He’s right. I know he is, but I came so close to losing him tonight. I don’t want to let him out of my sight. “Would you leave Dean?” I ask and that shuts him up quickly.
“I’ll stay,” Rory says. “Someone else can stay with me. We’ll hide out, keep an eye on him from a distance and make sure he’s safe until the police arrive.”
“I’ll stay too,” Conan offers, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. As angry as I am that Conan let Abbott sneak out tonight, I trust him to keep Abbott safe. I trust Rory too.
Still, the pull to stay with him is strong, to be by his side in everything and protect him in any way I can, but it’s Cillian who says, “Come on, Dad. We need to go. Trust him. Trust them.”
Abbott nods in agreement before I grab his face again, pressing our mouths together. When we come up for air, our foreheads touch, and I whisper, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I’m going to go home with Cillian. Ashford is closer. Give us fifteen minutes, then call the police. Once they’re here, call me.” Then at least I can be with him, arrive in a vehicle after they’re there. If I didn’t need to do that, I’d be the one to stay here and watch him.
Abbott nods, and I kiss him one more time before we walk out.
“You really do love him, don’t you?” Cillian asks.
“Yes.”
“He loves you too. I can tell…he’ll be fine, okay?”
I nod, believing it a little more when Cillian says it. “Okay.”