Stripped(65)
“I know. I’ll miss everyone there.”
Mickey pulled a chair up to the bed, sitting down and leaning in close to her.
“Listen, you don’t need to worry that Ron will come back for you,” he said in a whisper.
Abby looked at him skeptically.
“He wasn’t gone when we got there. I had Joe and Curtis with me. He was still beating the shit out of you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Joe took him and Curtis and I stayed with you and Amber.”
“So where is he?”
Mickey’s face darkened with anger.
“Gone. He’ll never hurt anyone again.”
“Oh.”
“Obviously, that’s just between us.”
“Of course.” Abby sighed, her mind swimming with emotions.
“I’m happy for you, Abby. You’re one of the few I always knew would keep your head on straight. That boyfriend of yours seems incredible. It’s a shame he’s straight.”
“Thanks, Mick,” she said, smiling.
“Will you come visit me sometime?”
“Not at the club, no. I don’t want to go back there. Why don’t you come visit me?”
“Deal. Maybe we could go to the salon together when you’re feeling up to it so you can get those roots touched up.”
“Look at my face. I don’t think anyone but you will notice my roots.”
“I just don’t want you to let yourself go because you quit dancing.”
“As soon as I’m better, I’d love to go to the salon with you. Then you can gripe at the stylist instead of me.”
“We’re on. You have a standing open tab at my salon for as long as you want.”
Chris came back in with a cup of coffee.
“Damn,” Mickey said softly, eyeing him from head to toe. “I’d like to get a physical from him.”
“I ordered you some ice cream,” Chris told Abby.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Mickey said. “Abby, stay in touch, okay?”
“I will. Thanks, Mick.”
He left the room, and Chris took the chair he’d been sitting in.
“How bad do I look?” she asked as he traced his fingertips along her arm.
“You were beaten badly, Ab. It’s nothing that won’t heal, but it’s going to take a while. I think you’ll be discharged Tuesday morning.”
“I need to see if Marla can keep the girls for a while. I don’t want them seeing me like this. It would upset them.”
He nodded.
“I talked to Marla, she said they can stay as long as you want. She told them I took you on a surprise vacation, so that’s where they think you are. But when you get discharged, I’m taking you to my place.”
“Chris, I’ll be okay.”
“No arguments. You’re staying with me.”
“Okay. I haven’t been awake very long, but I’m tired again.”
“Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
She woke to the fragrant smell of roses mingled with coffee. It must be morning. Abby never knew because of the blackout curtains on Chris’ bedroom windows, which helped him sleep during the day after working all night.
He had moved the flowers she’d gotten in the hospital into the bedroom, and had been waiting on her hand and foot for nearly a week. He was sitting at the kitchen table, reading on his laptop, when she walked in.
“Morning,” he said, getting up. “You want coffee? And scones from the bakery?”
“I can get it.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Really good. A lot less sore. The bruises look worse than ever, though.”
“Yeah, let’s stay in for lunch today. I know that waitress at the diner yesterday was giving me dirty looks because she thought I did that to you.”
“Another movie marathon?”
“Sounds good. And I have to go back to work tonight.”
“I can go home, Chris. Really. I should let you get back into your routine.”
“No, I want you here. Do you mind getting on my schedule? Up at night and sleeping in the morning?”
“No, I don’t mind. It’s all the same to me.” She wrapped her arms around him from behind, running her hands over his firm, broad chest. “You feel good,” she said, kissing his neck softly.
Chris groaned as one of her hands trailed down between his legs.
“Abby…” he said in a low voice.
“Hmm?”
“You need to heal right now. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. Come back to bed with me.”
He closed his eyes, seeming to fight his urge to follow her.
“Please,” she whispered, standing next to him. She pressed one of his hands under the t-shirt she wore – which was his -- to the skin of her stomach. “I miss you touching me.”