Obsessed Heir (Billionaire Heirs #4)

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Abigail

“ L et’s get you up to the cabin,” Barron announces, his gruff tone disappearing.

“I can take her,” James volunteers.

Barron’s comment spurs me into action. I jump to my feet.

“I’ll take her,” I offer, stepping forward to take control of the wheelchair. This is exactly why Miss Opal wanted me to come with her.

“I’ve got her.” The icy, dismissive edge in Barron’s voice cuts through me like a knife. I flinch, jerking my hands away and curling my fingers into my palms.

With anyone else, I would have a retort ready for such a rude remark. But this is Miss Opal’s son, the person she cherishes above anything in this world. If I fire the scathing reply on the tip of my tongue, it will deeply upset her. Nothing in the world could make me hurt her further after the accident I inadvertently caused.

Resigning myself to silence, I restrain myself and step back. Barron turns the wheelchair in one direction then another, like he’s trying to figure out what to do.

Does he know how to maneuver when using a chair? I had a steep learning curve when I first had to do it. We knocked into walls and furniture until I got the hang of it.

Watching him is painful. I want to speak up and offer guidance, but I don’t want to provoke his ire any further. I’ve already annoyed him just by being here. Still, I have to think of Miss Opal.

Taking a breath, I hesitantly instruct, “It’ll be easier if you back out.”

His broad shoulders stiffen. Okay, that’s my cue to get out before I make things even worse. I pivot and head to the door. James has already disappeared into the hallway. The poor guy schools his features into a neutral, diplomatic expression. Smart moves on his part.

As soon as Barron appears, James marches off. “The elevator is in this direction,” he states in a no-nonsense manner, leaving me to hurry after him. Anywhere is better than waiting here to have Barron stare me down.

How is it I can almost feel his gaze boring into my back when he hasn’t uttered a single word? The silence radiating off him feels as oppressive and overwhelming as the strange wave of vertigo I experienced earlier.

James presses his key card to the sensor then folds his hands behind him. He keeps focused on the floor numbers lighting up as we wait for the elevator to arrive. Barron is standing there, his powerful presence making him appear bigger than life.

The doors finally glide open with a muted hiss, and I clear my throat. “Back into the spot, so you’re facing the door. It’ll be easier for you to exit.”

Miss Opal is unusually quiet as her imposing son wheels her into the spacious elevator. I can’t help wondering if she senses the tension as acutely as I do.

James holds out a hand, gesturing me ahead politely. “Please, Miss Abby.”

Barron did exactly as I instructed, only he stopped in the middle of the elevator. I have no choice but to squeeze into the confined space next to him, no matter where I stand. It’s as if he takes up more area than a man of his size should.

James follows me inside, making the area feel even smaller and more oppressive. He taps his card on the control panel, and the doors glide shut.

Tension fills the air, and that spot between my shoulder blades tightens painfully. The elevator begins its smooth ascent, with a faint hum. The numbers on the indicator crawl by at an agonizing pace—far too slowly for my rattled nerves.

This must be what it feels like to be inside a pressure cooker.

Miss Opal breaks the strained silence with a sigh. “I’m so glad you decided to come along, Abby,” she says.

Exhaustion is etched into the fine lines beside her eyes. It makes her appear older and more fragile than she did yesterday. A crushing wave of guilt chokes me. I’ve caused her this pain through my carelessness.

Yet I can’t bring myself to agree and claim I’m happy to be here. That would be a bold-faced lie. Instead, I paste on an encouraging smile and reply, “I’m here to help, Miss Opal.”

“Wonderful, my dear,” Miss Opal responds warmly, though the weariness remains evident in her tone.

Barron’s exhale might have been a little more pronounced than usual. I fight every instinct not to cringe outwardly. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about his mother drawing attention to me.

Despite her tired admission, the atmosphere doesn’t reflect the spirit. I could almost feel the waves of hatred radiating off Barron as we waited for the X-ray.

He blames me for the accident. While he’s not totally wrong, I would never purposely hurt Miss Opal. Still, I should have been more aware of the situation when I left her unattended. His resentment may be well deserved, even if the extent is a little excessive.

The elevator stops, holding steady, as if the brakes were applied to keep it in place. The doors open to a landing with a full-length mirror. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases sit on either side, leading in opposite directions.

James exits first, allowing me to follow, then moves aside so he’s out of the way. He flashes me a reassuring smile. I’m sure it’s intended to silently convey he understands the tension Barron’s moods create.

After working with the man, it would be impossible for James not to recognize Barron’s simmering annoyance. What’s worse, there’s no way to defuse the situation.

Barron maneuvers Miss Opal’s chair out next then stops abruptly in the middle of the small alcove. He allows James to lead us down the hallway. The steward swipes his key card again over the familiar brushed-metal panel beside the entrance. It’s part of the same security system Miss Opal has at home.

The light on the top turns green, and heavy thunks sound as multiple high-security locks disengage in rapid succession. James grasps the handle, turning it as he pushes the door open. Disappearing inside, he holds it while Barron goes through. Luckily, this doorway is wide enough that he doesn’t have to worry about hitting the wheels this time.

While I linger in the hallway, I peek at the book titles on the nearby shelves. They’re bestsellers, all of them. The genres vary from true crime to mysteries to business. The collection offering a glimpse into the reading tastes of the cruise’s elite clientele.

Barron clears the doorway, the entrance wide enough that he doesn’t have to worry about hitting the wheels this time. James peeks out and motions for me to follow them. I hesitate, fighting the urge to make the sign of the cross. Though I’m not sure it would do a lick of good in this situation.

Squaring my shoulders, I force myself to move in a brisk clip. I close the door in time to hear Miss Opal exclaim, “My goodness. This is lovely. You’d think we were in a home.”

The expansive sitting area has two plush couches and a pair of overstuffed armchairs in buttery leather. It allows people to chat or watch television monitors on the walls.

In one corner, there’s a fully stocked bar with several stools. Built-in wall racks hold a glittering array of liquor bottles, secured by a metal rod running across the front.

A woman wearing a stylish red dress emerges from around the corner, casually sipping from a water bottle.

“Hello, Mrs. McClelland,” she greets Miss Opal, sounding warm and chipper. “I’m Holly.” She leans in slightly, a hand resting on her chest to prevent her red dress from gapping.

“I’ll show you the rooms,” James whispers as he shuts the door. “If you’d like.”

“Yes, please.” I nod enthusiastically, trying to make a quiet exit before Miss Opal pulls me into the conversation that would include Barron.

“Follow me,” he whispers, so we don’t disturb the introductions.

We start along the side of the room as Holly straightens with a jingle of bracelets.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Miss Opal replies, regaining some of her usual charm.

We’ve speculated about Holly and Barron’s relationship over the years. Her presence here, in Barron’s personal quarters, puts her in the friends-with-benefits zone, at the very least. He’s never shared much about his relationships, but she called to invite Miss Opal to the inaugural cruise.

“I’m so sorry. I heard what happened.” Holly’s expression is full of empathy as she glances my way.

I offer a quick smile then lower my gaze, returning my attention to James. Maybe we’ll make it by without distracting them.

“That’s Abby,” Miss Opal pipes up, stopping me mid-step. “Come say hello, dear.”

And just like that, any hope of fading into the background evaporates. While I don’t move any closer, I turn and face them, mustering up a smile. “Hello, ma’am.”

“Hi there,” she replies in that same friendly lilt, her interest obviously piqued as she gives me a once-over. “And there’s no need for the ma’am. I’m Holly.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, trying not to encourage more conversation.

“She’s my ward, companion, assistant,” Miss Opal continues, explaining my presence, while Holly listens attentively. “And the closest to a daughter I’ll ever have,” she adds with unmistakable affection.

Her words warm my heart then, from the corner of my eye, I catch Barron stiffening. Oh, no. Dread washes over me. The innocent words would have unintentionally wounding implications to her son, being her actual flesh-and-blood.

I manage to keep my expression neutral, but I can’t help tensing over what’s to come. With him standing behind her, Miss Opal can’t see how his jaw hardened and his nostrils are flaring.

“Not as though you have a son of your own, Mother,” Barron retorts, his tone flat and devoid of emotion.

The sarcasm in his voice is like a slap in the face. It’s enough to shatter any peace or assurance I could find in her loving words. The affectionate comments struck a deep nerve, and I end up trapped squarely in the crosshairs as her son’s target.

Holly’s perfect eyebrows rise, her expression one of thoughtful scrutiny as she picks up on the undercurrents of tension between the McClellands.

I wish I could make myself smaller, to slink away from the growing hostility and lick my wounds. But I’m frozen, choking on the knot in my throat. “If you’ll excuse me. I need to see to our things.”

I turn on my heel, desperate to find an escape. James is standing at an entryway, facing away from everything happening with the McClellands.

“You seem to forget,” Miss Opal replies, with her usual sweetness, “you haven’t needed a mother in over twenty years.”

The sudden silence is deafening. While her statement is true, I’m not sure Barron was expecting it. He’s been absent from her life since I arrived. She’s been alone in that big house while he’s in some other part of the country or the world.

It’s been heartbreaking to see her go from missing him to an eventual resigned acceptance of being on her own. How many times has she said, With him being a man, and his father’s son, he’s bound to be bold and ambitious .

Then, blessedly, James clears his throat and turns toward the hallway. “This way,” he says, not quite meeting my eyes. No doubt he picked up on my desperation to escape.

“Yes, please,” I reply with a tremulous smile, nodding perhaps a bit too vehemently.

Any excuse to remove myself from the volatile situation is a lifeline I’ll latch onto. James pauses beside the open door, gesturing with a subtle dip of his chin.

“Follow me,” he says, his tone lowering in deference to the charged atmosphere.

I don’t need to be told twice. I hurry after James as he slips through the doorway and moves away. Behind me, I can still hear the distant echo of Holly’s tinkling bracelets. No doubt she’s preparing to engage Miss Opal in lighter conversation.

I’m glad to escape the strained exchange between the three. My heart is pounding in my ears as we make our hushed escape.

The more distance between myself and Barron’s icy disdain, the better. With any luck, I can make it through the rest of the cruise by being neither seen nor heard. It’s the only way to avoid being in his crosshairs again.

“I’ll get you a key card within the hour,” James says in a low, reassuring tone. It’s as if what just happened is nothing out of the ordinary. “I apologize. I wasn’t prepared for an additional person, and I didn’t think of it until now.”

“There’s no rush,” I assure him. “I won’t be going anywhere without Miss Opal.”

We continue down the corridor, our footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. James leads me to a spacious bedroom. The furnishings and luxurious decor make it apparent this is where Miss Opal will stay.

“The en-suite bathroom is through here.” He gestures to the left.

“This might be a tight fit for the chair.” While the room itself is large, the doorway is a bit narrow. I have a sudden flashback of Barron trying to wrestle Miss Opal’s wheelchair out of the infirmary.

“I’ll tell Mr. McClelland.”

That’s the last thing we need.

“Let’s see once we bring her in,” I hedge, not wanting to cause any more trouble. “Maybe I’m overestimating.”

He picks up on my reluctance to make waves and simply gives an understanding nod.

“I set the luggage by the closet,” he continues, indicating the lone suitcase sitting off to the side. “The television remote control is here in the tray.” He walks to the large wooden dresser opposite the sumptuous king-sized bed and its decorative array of plump pillows.

“The desk has connections for a computer and a power center. You’ll find the Wi-Fi password here on the corner.” He taps one of the small cards positioned beside a flatscreen monitor.

“And for the balcony…” James hits a button on the wall panel. The curtain lining the glass doors glides across its track with a soft mechanical hum.

I imagine they expect guests to relax on the sofa and enjoy the panorama once they’re at sea. Currently, the view includes the bridge we crossed on the road to the port, stacks of shipping containers, and a sliver of shoreline. Land…dry land is good.

Then he flips the latch and slides open the door leading out to a private balcony. The gentle ocean breeze wafts in, stirring my hair and bringing with it the briny scent of saltwater.

Does that floor stretch out over the water? I think it was farther in, but I can’t be sure. And I don’t know that I want to find out. I stare down at the base of the glass door, knowing I won’t go near the railing. I shudder involuntarily.

“Mrs. McClelland won’t be able to get across this easily,” he remarks, glancing toward the rail. “But if she’d like to, I’d be happy to take her out there,” he offers.

Managing a strained smile, I force out a strangled, “Okay.”

Mercifully, James closes the balcony door, blocking out the dizzying view. “Being out at sea can be a bit overwhelming at first. Most passengers find their sea legs after a while.”

“Thank you.” I’m glad he’s perceptive enough to understand my fear.

“You’re right down the hall.”

I follow him automatically. My limbs tingle with relief at the thought of reaching the safety of my own space, even if temporarily. Part of me is dreading having to eventually cross paths with Barron again. Being able to barricade myself in my own room for a reprieve sounds incredibly appealing.

“Abby,” Holly calls from behind me, her tone one of open curiosity.

I turn slowly. “Yes, m…” I catch myself before saying ma’am. “Yes?”

“We’re heading up to celebrate the launch,” she says with an expectant lilt. Does she assume I’ll be joining them? I’m rooted to the spot in stunned silence, saliva pooling under my tongue.

“It’s tradition,” James explains. “Passengers and crew assemble on deck to see the ship pull out of port and get underway. More so because this is the ship’s maiden voyage.”

The bottom drops out of my stomach, leaving me feeling hollow and lightheaded. I can’t fathom anything more terrifying than being out on deck, watching us casting off into deeper water.

“Is…is Miss Opal planning to attend?” I ask in a strangled voice. I’m silently praying she’s staying in.

“No,” Holly replies, disappointed. “She’s not up to it.”

The knot of dread eases a bit, offering some relief. “I’ll stay and help her get settled,” I state firmly.

Nothing on this earth could compel me to willingly put myself through that kind of torture. I’ll happily take refuge with Miss Opal.

“Okay,” Holly accepts with only the barest hesitation. “James can give you directions, in case you change your mind.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, knowing full well that won’t happen.

Barron comes up behind her, bringing his mother to her room. I duck through the open doorway into my own room, giving him enough time to wheel her in.

Holly’s words ring in my ears. We’re heading up…

I should be there to take over, since he’s about to leave. I check the closet area and find the smaller suitcase. Extending the handle, I roll it out to the hall just as Barron leaves.

“Miss Abby.” James halts in the doorway. “If you need anything, I’ll be available.”

I can’t think of a single thing at the moment. However, we’re usually having our meal at noon, and it’s way past that back home. “Miss Opal may be ready for lunch.”

“Oh, I am,” she says from inside the room, sounding more chipper.

We share a smile.

“I’ll return shortly,” James promises.

“Thank you, James,” I reply, oddly reassured by his professionalism. “We may have to rely on you, at least for today.”

With me being unfamiliar with the ship, and so many people on board, this is certainly the best alternative.

“That’s not a problem, Miss Abby,” he assures me without a hint of judgment. “I’ll be taking care of you personally, night and day.” He turns and strides back down the hall.

I give a relieved smile as he walks away, only to freeze as I catch Barron’s hostile glare directed our way from the living area.