Stop at Nothing (24 page)

“Emma!” he called, his voice competing with the driving rain that pounded the roof. “Baby, I'm home! Tyler! Where are you, buddy?”

Abby wanted to hurl. The audacity of this asshole, acting like his wife and son should be rushing to greet him with open arms after all he'd done to them—after all he'd done to countless other innocent victims.

Abby waited, listening intently, but the silence wore on. She couldn't sense any movement, couldn't get a bead on his position. Any sound she might've caught was drowned out by the storm raging outside.

Unable to take the waiting any longer, Abby inched forward again and was on the verge of peering around the wall when she heard a quiet shuffle in the foyer.

He was growing impatient. She could almost feel his irritation at being delayed, being
denied
. Then she heard his slow steps as he made his way deeper into the entryway, coming to a halt just outside the living room.

Abby held her breath.

“You're a clever woman, Abby,” he called out casually. “I'm sure we can sit down and talk about this and clear up any
misunderstandings
.”

He paused as if he truly expected her to reply, then moved farther into the house, going down the hallway toward the kitchen. Abby took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway behind him, her gun raised.

“Don't take another step, Curtis,” she barked. He instantly halted and started to turn around. “Hands where I can see them!”

He obediently lifted his hands, but when he slowly turned to face her, a smug grin curved his lips.

“You're under arrest,” she informed him. “Get down on your knees and put your hands behind your head.”

He gave her a patronizing look. “Abby, Abby, Abby,” he said, shaking his head with each utterance of her name, his golden-brown hair still perfectly styled in spite of the wind and rain. “C'mon…you've known me for years.”

Her face twisted in revulsion. “Oh, I know you better than you think. You
disgust
me, you son of a bitch. Now get on the floor!”

“I'm afraid not.”

Her brows came together in an angry scowl. “You might've missed the part where I have a gun. And at the moment, that gun is aimed at the center of your chest.”

He took a step forward, his arms held out in a conciliatory gesture. “Abby—”

“That's close enough!” she shouted. “Stay back, Curtis. I'm warning you.”

He came to a halt again, his grin growing. “I just want to talk, Abby. Clear up a few things.”

“Go to hell, Curtis,” she spat. “I know all I need to.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Do you?”

“The only thing I don't understand is why you offed Whitmore to fake your own death,” she admitted.

He chuckled. “Ah, yes, Preston. An unfortunate business. He began to have second thoughts when his godfather became suspicious. Whitmore thought that if he recommended you to look into things, your family loyalty would prevent us from being outed if you found the truth. Little did he realize you're a traitorous bitch.”

Abby ignored his barb. “So you killed him.”

“Oh,
I
didn't,” he said with a shrug. “I have people to handle that sort of thing for me. But it offered a rare opportunity for me to make everyone believe I was dead, take my money, and disappear for a while to start over. Who wouldn't do the same if he found himself in such a situation? I just need to tie up one particularly troublesome loose end.”

“I won't let you hurt Emma and Tyler,” Abby spat. She thought she heard the soft rumble of the garage door rising under the sound of the thunder, but she couldn't be sure. She prayed Emma and Tyler were making their escape as she'd instructed them.

Curtis hadn't seemed to notice, his eyes still trained on her, his demeanor unconcerned. “I would never
harm
my wife and son.”

“You'd just fake your own death and abandon them to clean up your messes, is that it?” Abby said, her tone dripping with disdain. “Don't you give a shit what this will do to your wife? Your
son
?”

He tilted his head to the side, regarding her with that patronizing look of his that made her want to nut punch him. “Don't
you
?”

Abby took a menacing step forward, her grip on the gun tightening. “That's
all
that matters to me, asshole.”

“And yet if you go forward with all of this nonsense, my assets will be frozen, my properties confiscated,” he pointed out. “Your sister and nephew will be completely destitute. They will have nothing.”

“You're wrong,” she argued. “They'll have
me
.”

He chuckled, shaking his head pityingly. “Oh, Abby. No, they won't.”

Abby heard the floor creak and spun around. The shot ripped through the flesh of her left arm. She reflexively fired the gun, putting two rounds in the center of Curtis's bodyguard's chest. Arlo stumbled back a couple of steps, his eyes wide with surprise, but in his shock he managed to fire two more wild rounds before his gun slipped from his fingers and hit the hardwood floor.

Abby heard Curtis grunt as one of the rounds struck him. But glancing behind her to assess the situation cost her. In spite of being severely—perhaps mortally—wounded, Arlo lunged forward, wrapping his powerful arms around her and throwing her to the side, back toward the living room. But the momentum carried him with her. Abby's gun was jarred from her grasp as she and Arlo tumbled to the ground.

She struggled to wiggle out from under the unconscious bodyguard, Arlo's weight on her chest making it difficult to breathe. She shoved at him with her wounded arm and stretched out her free hand, her fingers straining to reach her gun just a few inches away.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Curtis came limping toward her, snatching up Arlo's gun from the floor. His face was twisted with fury, blood stained his thigh where Arlo's shot had caught him, and his hand shook as he raised the gun.

Abby frantically tried to pull herself toward her own weapon, panic giving her an extra surge of adrenaline as her heart beat furiously, pounding in her ears. Her fingers had just reached the butt of her gun when she heard a male voice shout, “Maxwell!”

Her hand closed around her weapon, and she brought it up just as Curtis whirled around, gun aimed at the person who'd called his name. Abby fired a split second after another shot rang out. Curtis's body jerked with the impact. For a moment he stood there, his eyes wide, his face slack. Then his knees buckled and he fell to the floor.

Abby's entire body began to tremble as relief washed over her, but she kept her weapon trained on the entrance to the living room, poised to protect herself again if necessary.

“Abby? It's me! I'm coming in, sweetheart.”

Kyle.

She lay back on the floor with a little sob of relief. A moment later, his beloved face was peering down at her, his expression taut with concern.

“Curtis?” she managed to croak out, her throat dry.

Kyle gently took her weapon and set it aside. “Dead.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. In the next second, Arlo's deadweight was rolled off her and Kyle was dragging her into his arms, covering her face with kisses and capturing her lips in a brief, hard kiss that stole her breath.

When it ended, he scooped her into his arms and rose to his feet, cradling her against his chest. “It's alright, sweetheart,” he murmured against her hair. “I've got you. And I'll never let you go.”

Kyle had just finished wrapping Abby's arm when the first of the local police arrived. He kissed Abby on the forehead. “Stay here,” he murmured against her skin. “I'll handle this.”

He turned to go but Abby grasped his hand and twined her fingers with his. “I'll come with you.”

Her hand was cold in his. Her body still trembled, but her gaze was steady, determined, as she pushed back from the kitchen table and got to her feet.
God, he loved her.
He had to work to suppress a proud grin as he said, “Okay. But you let me know if it's too much.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

“
Police!
” came a voice from the front porch.

Kyle grabbed his badge from his pocket and crept slowly forward, keeping Abby slightly behind him, just in case these local boys got a little too eager for action. “We're Agent Kyle Dawson with the FBI and Deputy Abby Morrow with the Fairfield County Sheriff's Department. We're coming out.”

Kyle blinked against the sunlight that was breaking through the few remaining rain clouds as they made their way out to the porch.

“We got a call about a domestic,” one of the officers—a kid who looked like he was fresh out of the academy—informed him. “What the hell is the FBI doing here?”

Kyle shared a glance with Abby. “It's a little complicated. Two assailants have been shot and killed inside.” When the rookie stared at Kyle like he might vomit on his shoes, Kyle bent forward a little and said quietly, “You'll want to call it in and get a team out here.”

The kid gave him a terse nod and walked a few steps away to call in to dispatch.

“My sister,” Abby said in a rush, clutching at the arm of the other officer. “Emma Maxwell. Where is she? Is she okay? Where's my nephew?”

He gave her a sympathetic look. “She's fine, Deputy. Mrs. Maxwell and her son are at the station. They're pretty shaken up but they're unharmed.”

Abby released the officer and Kyle led her over to the porch swing where he pulled her down onto the seat beside him. He put his arm around her and drew her in tight against him, careful of her wounded arm.

“Are
you
okay?” he whispered.

He felt her shudder against him, but she nodded.

“How's your arm?” he asked as more sirens approached.

“Just a scratch,” she murmured. “I think it's probably already stopped bleeding.”

“We'll have the paramedics take a look when they get here, just in case.” Kyle jerked his chin as the rookie came up the steps and sent Kyle a grateful look. As soon as the kid was inside, Kyle chuckled. “God, it doesn't seem like that long ago that we were that guy, fresh-faced and eager to make the world a better place. Didn't take long to figure out it was even worse than we'd thought.”

Abby pulled back so that she could peg him with a stern gaze. “There are always going to be more assholes like Curtis and Preston Whitmore out there,” she said. “But we're making a difference, Kyle. What happened today—what we put
an end to
today—it means Rosalie Sparks didn't die in vain. You kept your promise to bring her killer to justice.”

He studied her face for a moment, letting his gaze travel over every beloved inch, then reached up and caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “When I saw Maxwell standing there with that gun on you…it scared the shit out of me, Abby. Jesus. If I ever lost you…”

Kyle looked away and cleared his throat. But she put her fingers under his chin and turned his face back to hers before leaning in and pressing a long, lingering kiss to his lips.

“It's over,” she assured him, nestling close. He wasn't sure if her words were meant more for him or for her. But he'd take them anyway.

* * *

Three days later…

Abby brushed her hands on her jeans, having loaded the last of Curtis's things into the moving truck that was going to put them in storage until his affairs could be put in order. The house staff had been dismissed with letters of glowing recommendation. Since Curtis's will would be in probate until the legal system could determine how to dispose of the assets acquired as the result of his criminal activity, there were no funds to support Emma and Tyler. And only the items from the house that had belonged to the Morrow family prior to Emma's marriage or that Emma could prove she'd purchased were allowed to stay with her. The rest was forfeit until further notice.

“I'm so sorry about all of this, Emma,” Elle McCoy was saying for the hundredth time that afternoon, feeling guilty because of her role in the legal process. She'd come over to help load the truck and to help Emma move to a house owned by Mac Dawson until she could come up with a more permanent solution.

“Don't worry about it, Elle,” Emma said. “You can take everything for all I care. I don't want anything that I shared with that man.” She cast a look over at Tyler where he was sitting on the front steps, his shoulders slumped, the truth of what his father had done barely even making sense to his young mind. “I have the only thing he gave me that is of any value.”

Elle briefly squeezed Emma's arm. “If there's anything I can do—”

“You can grab one of these boxes and make yourself useful, sweet cheeks,” Gabe interrupted, straining to carry a heavy box of books to the moving van containing Emma and Tyler's things.

“Bite me, Dawson,” Elle shot back, but she moved to go grab a box anyway.

Gabe chuckled and offered Abby a conspiratorial wink. “She wants me.”

Kyle was shaking his head as he sidled up to her. “I think that's about everything. I just have—”

Abby turned to see what had caused his words to die abruptly on his tongue and could feel the charge in the air around Kyle even before she recognized the approaching car as belonging to Mac Dawson.

“Shit,” Kyle huffed.

“You're going to have to talk to him some time,” Abby reminded him quietly. “You can't keep dancing around the tension between you.”

Since everything that had happened at the cabin, Abby had devoted nearly every moment to helping her sister and nephew cope with their loss and assisting them in making plans for their future. That meant she and Kyle
still
hadn't had a chance to talk about where things were between them, and she felt a twinge of guilt at her own hypocrisy. But when she slipped her hand into Kyle's, silently offering him support as they walked out to meet Mac's car, she could feel something shift within him.

Mac's face was stoic as usual, revealing nothing as he got out of his department Tahoe and came toward them. “Just wanted to stop by and make sure Emma has the key to the house.”

“She does,” Abby assured him. “Thanks so much for doing this, Mac. It means a lot to Emma and to me.”

He gave a terse nod, acknowledging Abby's gratitude, but it clearly made him uncomfortable. “Just helping out is all. It's not Emma's fault what happened.”

Abby gave Kyle a subtle prodding in the ribs, then widened her eyes at him and sent a glance Mac's way.

Kyle took the hint and cleared his throat. “Sadie and Joe are having a cookout next weekend since the last one they tried got derailed on account of everything that's happened. You coming?”

Mac turned his gaze back to Kyle and stared at him for a moment before giving him a terse nod. “Guess I might stop in.”

The three of them stood in awkward silence until a honking horn brought their attention back around to the moving vans. “Get your asses in gear!” Gabe shouted. “Daylight's wastin', and there's no way I'm letting Tom drive one of these vans. He'd have it in a ditch in no time.”

“Piss off, Gabe!” came Tom's muffled response from inside the van's cab.

“Need I remind you of a certain joyride in a VW bus when we were teenagers?” Gabe asked.

“Excuse me, sir,” Kyle muttered to his father, turning to go break up the argument that was brewing between his big brothers. “Duty calls.”

“Kyle.”

Abby stiffened, her gaze darting back and forth between the two men. She wasn't sure what she expected, but in all the years she'd known the Dawsons, Mac had never once referred to Kyle by his first name.

“Yes, sir?”

Mac put his hands on his hips and suddenly took a great deal of interest in a clump of dirt at his feet. “I, uh, gave a friend of mine at the Bureau a call. Seems you'll be reporting to him in your new assignment.”

Abby felt Kyle tense and squeezed his hand tighter.

“And?”

Mac cleared his throat a couple of times, kicking at the clump of dirt with his toe. “Told him he's getting one hell of an agent and that he'd better treat you well or he'd have
me
to answer to.”

Abby's gaze snapped to Kyle's face to gauge his reaction. For a long moment, he stared at his father in stunned silence. Then he extended his hand. Mac hesitated for a moment but then clasped his son's hand in a firm handshake.

Abby could hear the emotion in Kyle's voice as he said, “Thanks, Dad.”

Mac gave Kyle a nod and turned back to his car, but there was no way Abby was going to let him get away that easily. “Mac!” she called, jogging the couple of steps to him. When he turned around, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

“Oh, well now,” he muttered, giving her an awkward hug. “What's this all about?”

She pulled back and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For raising such an amazing son.”

With that, she turned on her heel and jogged back to Kyle, lacing her fingers with his once more as they headed toward Emma's moving van.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Just saying thank you. That's all.”

* * *

That night, Abby lay in Kyle's arms, her head resting on his chest. Every muscle in his body ached after moving several vanloads of Emma and Tyler's belongings out of her house and then getting her settled. But it was all worth it. He would've done it for anyone who needed his help, but today's work had the added benefit of allowing him to shoulder some of the burden that Abby had taken on in her determination to look after her family. Besides, if all went as he hoped, Emma and Tyler would be
his
family too soon enough.

He trailed his finger lightly over Abby's arm, avoiding her still-healing wound from a few days before. “You awake, sweetheart?”

She stretched, moaning a little with pleasure. “Barely. I thought you'd be too tired after everything today to be so…
energetic
tonight.”

He grinned. “What can I say? The thought of getting you naked later was all that kept me going today.”

She chuckled, low and sexy, nuzzling closer and melding the soft curves of her body into his. Instantly, he felt desire stirring deep in his belly. Good God, the things this woman did to him. He couldn't get enough of her.

So when she lifted her face to his, seeking his kiss, it was impossible for him to resist—not that he'd wanted to. He grasped the back of her neck, deepening the kiss, drawing her closer until she was stretched out on top of him. Her soft moan of pleasure as she slowly sheathed his throbbing cock nearly undid him.

He sat up, wrapping her legs around his waist and grinding his teeth together to keep from giving in to the release building at the base of his spine. “Jesus, Abby,” he ground out. “I love being inside you.”

She let her head fall forward so that her mouth was near his ear, her breath hot against his skin. Another little moan escaped her as her muscles began to tense, and then she cried out as her release shook her, drawing Kyle along with her.

For several moments, they clung to each other, panting, hands gently sliding over sweat-slicked skin. When their heartbeats finally began to slow, Kyle pressed a kiss to Abby's shoulder.

Then he pulled away just enough to run his fingers through the length of her silky hair, assuring himself that the beautiful woman in his arms was real and not an illusion. “I love you,” he told her. “I want to spend every day of the rest of my life loving you.”

“I love you, Kyle,” she breathed, her fingers trailing along the curve of his jaw, her eyes filled with the truth of her words. “I want that too. I want to start over. I want to see if we can have a life together. But I know that you wanted to be somewhere more exciting and make a name for yourself away from your father's shadow. Please just promise me that you won't let me get in the way of your dreams. I don't want to be what keeps you here when you want to be somewhere else.”

Kyle took Abby's face in his hands. “There's nowhere else I'd rather be than right here. With
you
.” He captured her lips in a heated kiss, making sure she had no lingering doubts. When he finally ended the kiss, he pressed his forehead to hers, not sure if he deserved this much happiness but determined to hang on to it for dear life anyway. “And as for my dreams…the most important dream I ever had was
you
.”