Page 72 of Single Girl in the City
Her injuries told a horrifying story.
“I can almost hear you thinking,” she said, her sleep-roughened voice making him count the footsteps to the kitchen counter. “What’s going on in your head?”
He pressed his answer firmly against her butt and she gave a tired chuckle. “The other head.”
“You need to specify or he’ll think it’s go time.” He debated whether to even broach the topic of family. First impressions of Abi were that she was a big, friendly, open book. But on closer inspection, there were a lot of layers that she kept locked up tight. It was that part of Abi that he wanted to know. The side of her that she was too afraid to show people. And layers usually start with the past. “Tell me about your parents.”
She looked at him over her shoulder as if he’d gone mad. “We’re naked and you want to talk about my parents?”
He feathered his fingers down her arm in soothing lines. “I want to know about you.”
She took in a deep breath and held it, so long he was certain she’d change the topic with one of her smart-ass jokes, but when she exhaled, he felt her body sink into his. “I’m the surprise baby in a yours-and-mine sandwich.”
“So you were the Ours?”
“Not really,” she whispered. “My mom and stepdad were going through a rough patch. My mom met my dad at work and, surprise, here I am.”
Owen couldn’t imagine a situation where either of his parents would stray. They set the bar high for marriage and love. Even a decade later his mom still mourned his dad in her own way.
“How did that work? With your parents?”
“My mom and stepdad eventually pushed through and stayed together, but it was rough. At least Dotti said it was. I was a baby, so I don’t remember.”
“But Dotti told you how bad it got?”
“Mainly my brother, Steven. He and Michael are my dad’s. Dotti’s my mom’s.”
The way she said it, the wistfulness in her voice, told him that while each of her siblings had a parent, Abi had none.
“And your dad?”
She rolled on her back, those gorgeous brown eyes shining up at him. “He was married too, but it didn’t last. A couple of years after the affair, he and his wife divorced. She got the house and my brothers lived with her full time. My dad just got them on the weekends, along with me. So I had three siblings. All of them older. Dotti is the closest to me in age and friendship, but we’re separated by five years and an opposite-personalities problem.”
Jesus, Dotti was her closest sibling? Having met Dotti in public he could only imagine what she was like behind closed doors.
“So, you lived with your dad?”
“My parents could never agree on who got me when, so I spent a lot of time being shuffled back and forth.”
Shuffling around had bled into her adult life. He wondered if she even realized why she didn’t stay in one place too long and what it would take for her to stick.
He brushed his nose across a big, angry scar that sat below her collarbone, then pressed a kiss there. He’d seen this same scar before, only from the back, right below her shoulder blade.
“The metal casing from the bench seat in front of me tore free. The bus skidded for a few yards, then stopped when it hit the side of a pole. I slid forward and caught on the metal.” More like the metal went through and through. She looked at him and, as if knowing where his thoughts were headed, she said, “I didn’t feel it. They said I was in shock.”
She might have been in shock, but she’d felt it. He could see it in her eyes, the way they skittered away briefly and how she worried her lip. It was her tell.
“I know, I’m a terrible liar.”
He knew what she was doing. Humor was her way of avoiding hard topics. But he wasn’t going to let her off that easy. “And this?” He ran his hand ever so gently over the yellowing mark on her side.
“I bruised my kidney.”
Rolling on his back, he took her hand, studying all the tiny scars and discoloring. He tried to kiss her palm, but she took her hand back. “I don’t remember how I got those. The doctor said it’s road rash.” She turned over to lie on him, resting her cheek over his heart. “It will eventually go away.”
He’d bet there was a lot she couldn’t remember. Trying to process all of that at a single time would overload anyone’s brain. It broke his heart that what she did remember was the image of Jenny and the children.
As for the rest of her injuries, he doubted anyone else knew the extent. Abi wouldn’t want to worry anyone or be too much of a burden, it was something he’d noticed around the bar. Abi was always the first to volunteer and the last one to leave. And no matter how crappy her day was, she was always smiling and joking, making sure everyone felt included.
