“Don’t fucking touch me.” He pushes Layla.
She drops her hands, only rocking back a step before she pushes right back. Teddy trips over his own feet, falling onto his ass.
“Stop,” I whisper, not wanting a fight to break out. The other man in the suit Layla brought with us is now a step away from Teddy, who is cursing and picking himself up off the floor. His eyes flick to the bag at my feet. “Just take it.”
My eyes sting with tears but I fight them back. So many tears have been lost on Teddy. Too many. The realization that I risked my marriage to a beautiful man for this threatens to overwhelm me, but I push it down. I know that I need to be strong and take care of this thing with my brother once and for all.
“Abby.”
“Don’t!” I snap, jumping up from my chair that falls back, hitting the ground. I try to kick the bag over to him but it barely moves. “Take it and go before I change my mind.” He hesitates. My stomach turns as I will him to not take it, to say he’s sorry, but of course he doesn’t. He grabs the bag from off the floor. He gives me a long look before he turns to leave.
The tears stream down my face as I watch him go. I can’t save him. I feel like I’ve let my parents down. No matter how hard I tried with him, I could never bring him back. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be a mother. I can’t even save my own brother. I lie to my husband. I obviously don’t have the greatest judgment. Maybe me not being able to have a baby is a sign that I’m not cut out for it.
“Abby.” Layla reaches out to grab my hand. I step back, shaking my head as my emotions overwhelm me.
“I’m going to vomit.” I turn, running toward the bathroom. I barely make it into the stall and the breakfast Con made for me is coming up. Black spots dance in my eyes as I fall to my ass on the floor. I feel Layla grab me before everything goes dark.
Chapter 19
Constantine
I’ve heard the expression having your heart in your throat, but I didn’t know how it felt. I didn’t know that fear can be a visceral thing that wraps itself around you, stops your breath, and blinds you. I didn’t know that kind of terror existed until I got the call from Layla that Abby was being rushed to the hospital.
I break about a hundred laws in reaching her and stumble out of the back of the car before it stops. Bursting through the doors, I race for the emergency room desk. Out of nowhere, Layla catches my arm.
“Come with me,” she says, far too calmly.
“Why aren’t you with her?” I demand as we head toward the elevators.
”I left her side only to come and get you. She’s fine, though.”
“Fine?” I’m boiling mad. “How can she be fine? She was taken to the hospital by ambulance. What’s wrong with her?”
“She’ll tell you herself” is all the bodyguard will say. There are other people in the elevator so I can’t wrap my hands around the woman’s neck and choke the information out of her like I want. Layla refuses to say another word as she guides me off the elevator and down to a private suite. When I enter the room my eyes fall on the bed—the empty bed. My heart stops. “Where is she?”
“Here I am.”
I whirl around to see Abigail, dressed in her street clothes, rising from a chair. I’m by her side in two strides and push her back down.
“Why are you in your clothes? Why aren’t you in a hospital gown? Why aren’t you in bed?” I scoop her into my arms and stride over to the bed. She wiggles and slaps at me to get me to put her down, but I don’t let go until I reach the bed. I set her on it, but to my frustration, she slides right off.
“What the hell, Abigail?”
She gives me a soft smile and pats the end of the bed. “Maybe you should sit down.”
Oh fucking no. She’s about to tell me she’s got some terminal illness. As if my anxiety couldn’t ratchet up any higher. I grab her by the shoulders and inspect her as if I can visualize her illness on her face. She looks good. Her color is good. Her eyes are focused. I don’t see any tremors. I press my hand against her forehead. It feels cool.
“Did you not get enough to eat today?” Maybe she’s diabetic? Maybe she has some blood sugar problem. Maybe it’s vertigo. I try to think of any reason that would cause her to faint that doesn’t involve some life-ending illness. I draw a blank. Fuck. I should’ve gone to medical school.