Page 55 of Abel

“Fuck you, Abel.” She says, storming off.

Great, just what I needed. Someone else fucking pissed off with me.

Groaning, I toss my head into my fucking hands, feeling defeated.

I’m not sure how much time passes as I just sit here until I feel my phone vibrate against my hip.

Fishing it out, looking at the caller, I blow out a deeply annoyed breath. Another person I don’t have the fucking patience to deal with today.

“Santiago, what can I do for you?”

“Abel, how are you?”

“Let’s cut the small talk, what is it?”

He pauses before he says, “Diamondhead of the Diamondbacks says he’s got a lead on Clive’s killer.” Now he has my attention.

“What?” After all this time. “Tell me everything.”

I hear rustling in the background. “Why don’t we discuss this over dinner. Meet me at Huntington’s tonight at seven.”

“Fine.” I hang up before he can say anything more. If it doesn’t pertain to Clive or business, there’s nothing more for us to discuss.

I know I’m being a dick, but I don’t need no new friends.

There were only two things I needed, to find Clive’s killer and win Ivy over.

The need to know why she left just like Courtney did, eats away at me like an animal clawing at my chest where my heart used to be. Clive’s death changed me, and I’ll be damned if I let this shit eat me alive without knowing why.

Pressing the intercom on my desk phone, I give Emily a ring. “Em, what’s the rest of my day look like?”

“I’m sure you can pull out your trusty notebook and find out for yourself.” She grunts.

“Look, I’m sorry, Em. I didn’t mean to bite your head off.”

“Well you did and it hurt. Figure it out. I’m done for the day.” She says, cutting the line. A minute or so later, I hear the door slam shut as she leaves.

Fucking hell, I really fucked up.

Ivy has really gotten under my skin, and I’m taking it out on everyone else. Heading to Emily’s desk, I get the folders from today’s appointments, shifting through until I find her file.

Ivy Huntington, age twenty-two, half black/half caucasian… Blah, blah, blah, let me skip down to the information I need the most.

Her phone number and address.

I’m sure this breaches all kinds of patient/doctor confidentiality, but I don’t care. I need to see her.

She left me with a lot of unanswered questions and I want to know why.

I leave the office with one thing on my mind… Go to her house, barge in like the barbarian I am, and demand she speaks to me.

She’ll have no choice unless she wants me to create a scene. I’ll fucking do it, too.

If she even thinks about defying me, I’ll… Have to wait until the baby’s born to do something physical about it, because the last thing I want to do is send her into early labor.

So, instead of caveman Abel, sensible Abel is stopping at Josephine’s Sweet Delights bakery on the way to her home. She’s pregnant, how can she pass up all these goodies?

Since I have no idea what she likes, yet, I get one of everything.

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