Obsessed Heir (Billionaire Heirs #4)

Chapter 39

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Abigail

D ad hadn’t been home in over a week. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. And I didn’t know what to do.

I spent those long, lonely nights terrified of the shadows in every darkened corner. But I couldn’t keep the light on too long because the bill would be too high.

Every time footsteps passed by our door, I froze. I’d prayed to hear the key in the lock. But the steps would fade away, leaving me with the ache of disappointment in my chest.

Where was he? What happened? Did he get hurt? Was he lying in a hospital bed somewhere, alone? Was it something even worse? Not knowing was a constant worry.

Normally, we scraped by, only buying enough groceries to get us to the next week. During the bad times, I learned to fix half the cup of ramen noodles at a time to make them last. Otherwise, I’d have a soggy mess left for the next meal…whenever that was.

After so many days, there wasn’t any food left. I was ashamed to have eaten the noodles that should have been Dad’s. What if he came home and there was nothing at all for him to eat?

I checked every nook and cranny of the tiny apartment, desperately hoping to find a forgotten dollar or even a few stray coins. Nothing. If school was in, I could at least eat breakfast and lunch there, but that wasn’t the case, so I was on my own.

For two endless nights, the shadows growled menacingly. When I was awake, I knew it was the sounds from my empty tummy. But when I was dreaming, I didn’t recognize them, and I would end up having nightmares.

Desperation finally drove me to something I never imagined I’d do. With my stomach cramping painfully, I walked into the neighborhood grocery store and pretended I bought a loaf of bread.

If I’d had any sense, I would have chosen a small item. Tuna would have fit in my pocket. Bologna would have lasted longer. Instead, I went for the cheapest thing I knew of. I rationalized that taking something cheap wouldn’t be as bad.

I should have stopped to think about the consequences. Deep down, I knew it was wrong to shoplift, and I’m still self-conscious over it today. But having an empty stomach for days makes you daring in a way nothing else can.

Of course, I got caught. I was lucky Bonnie Bustos, the daughter of one of Miss Opal’s tenants, happened to be in the store. She saw me dragged into the office by the furious manager.

Bonnie recognized me right away and pleaded with the manager to go easy on me. She paid for the bread and bought me some actual food.

I wasn’t off the hook. The manager had already called the police, and they were on their way to pick me up.

Then I had another problem. I didn’t know what to do when the officer arrived. Dad had warned me, time and again, that we’re not supposed to talk to the police—about anything.

So I waited in terrified silence, hugging the bag of groceries to my chest so tight I flattened half the loaf of bread.

Bonnie waited there, too, keeping me company and promising everything would be okay. My stomach was rumbling so loud, she heard it. But I couldn’t bring myself to eat anything because I was so scared I was afraid I’d throw up.

When the police officer arrived, Bonnie took him aside to explain the situation while I shrank back, wishing I could disappear.

She gently described me as a scared, hungry child who had made a foolish mistake. She begged him not to arrest me and ruin my future, and to let me go with a warning.

But because I was a minor, he couldn’t release me on my own.

He wouldn’t take another step without talking to my parents. With Dad gone, I didn’t know what to do. The only person I thought of having him call was Miss Opal, even though I hadn’t seen her in months.

And she sent her son to collect me.

I still remember the hate in his eyes, the anger when he looked at me as I sat in that hard plastic chair.

How could he, the son of a man with all the money in the world, understand what it was like to be so hungry your stomach hurt?

Barron thanked Bonnie. He smoothed things over with the manager. He thanked the officer for not hauling me down to juvenile detention. Then he pledged a big donation to their annual drive for underprivileged youth, on behalf of the store.

In typical Barron fashion, he spun it so everyone got great press out of what happened.

With the situation defused, he walked me out of the store and herded me into the back seat of his sleek luxury car. He didn’t say a single word to me, but I saw the white-knuckle grip he had on the steering wheel.

The drive to Miss Opal’s passed in agonizing silence. I worried about facing her after what I did. What would she think of me after I’d gotten myself in trouble?

The moment Miss Opal saw me, likely looking as pathetic as I felt, her face melted into an expression of pure compassion. She opened her arms wide, enveloping me in their warmth as I pressed myself against her and broke down into great, heaving sobs.

Hush now, sweet girl. You’re home, and everything’s going to be just fine.

She sat me down at the kitchen table, just her and me. After going without food for so long, I ate ravenously, grateful for every delicious bite.

Once my tummy was full, she had me take a hot shower then put me to bed in the room where I’d stayed before. Feeling safe for the first time in forever, I slept soundly.

And I never went hungry again.

I shake my head, pulling myself from the vivid memory.

Up until today, I’d worried about Dad, thinking something horrible must have happened to him. Wondering if he’d come for me, if he’d think to check Miss Opal’s house. I spent months expecting him to show up, demanding to take me home.

But now I know the truth—that he took money from Barron and Miss Opal then disappeared, abandoning me. The realization makes me curl my fingers into a fist, my nails biting into my palm as anger surges through me.

That’s why we’d been sent away before because he was trying to get money from Miss Opal. Although I was too young to understand what he did back then. Once I did, I was ashamed for him, for what he tried doing to such a kind, wonderful lady.

A sharp knock at the door drags me from my spiraling thoughts. I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting here, staring blankly out at the passing shoreline, but I’m past the urge to throw up. Still, I’m not ready to face anyone.

“Please,” I call out in a hoarse voice, shaking my head, as if the person can see me. “I just want to be alone.”

“Abby?” Holly’s concerned voice filters into the room. “Is everything okay in there?”

Oh no. Holly. With a sinking sense of dread, I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m supposed to go down to the dining area tonight. She wants me to mingle with the guests for a couple of hours.

Clearing my throat, I call out again, trying to sound normal. “I’ll be right there.”

“All right,” she replies, hesitantly.

I run my knuckle under my eyes then push up from the bed. There’s no way to hide how much of a mess I am. I push a stray curl behind my ear as I reach the door.

“Holly,” I say, crossing my arms in front of me, “I’m not going to make it tonight.”

There’s a brief pause, but I know she’s not one to give up so easily. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Okay? I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay again. I take a deep, fortifying breath, knowing I have to keep my emotions under control.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I manage with a remarkably even tone.

“Open the door, Abby,” she says in that insistent way of hers.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “Um, can-can we do this another time?” I plead.

“Abby, open the door,” she says with determination, as if sheer willpower will get her what she wants. That’s probably why she and Barron get on so well.

Damn it. This will only lead to more questions and pushing if I refuse. I take a deep breath then turn the lock, opening the door.

She takes one look at me and exhales heavily.

“ What did he do now?” she asks with certainty.

An unexpected chuckle bursts out, along with some tears. I bring the folded tissues to my nose, shaking my head slowly.

“It’s nothing, really,” I mumble, my voice muffled by congestion as much as from the tissue.

“I highly doubt that.” Arching a brow, she presses her lips together into a flat line.

“Really, I’ll be okay.” I keep my tone as smooth and measured as possible. “I just need a little downtime.”

“Is there anything I can do?” she asks, seeming to accept that I’m not sharing details of what has me in tears.

But her offer may help with something I’ve been thinking about since before the sun went down. Maybe there’s one thing she can do, if I can bring myself to ask.

“Can you get in touch with Steven?” I blurt out in a rush so I don’t have time to change my mind.

Her brows knit in confusion. “The photographer? Why would you need him?”

Heat rushes across my cheeks. “He’s flying home tomorrow.” I swallow hard before continuing. “I thought I’d head back to Seattle with him and wait there for Miss Opal.”

Her features soften, leaving a slightly sad expression. “Oh, Abby. I’m so sorry.”

I lower my head. “No, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about. I’m the one who’s failing you.”

“No.” She’s vehement as she cuts me off. “You’ve done so much more for this tour than you had to.” Holly’s shoulders slump slightly. “If you’re set on flying back early, I can make all the arrangements.”

I’m heartsick at the thought of leaving so abruptly. But it’s better this way. I couldn’t deal with Barron’s contempt every time we’re in a room together.

With me out of the way, Miss Opal and Barron will be able to enjoy the rest of the trip without my personal drama.

“Yes,” I say at last. “I think that’ll be best.”

“I’ll be by in the morning,” she says with a hint of sadness, “once I’ve set everything up for you.”

I close the door softly and lean against it, letting the tears flow freely.