Trial by Fire Page 10

  The sensation of her tucked against him as they wound their way through the halls to the justice of the peace’s chambers set him on fire.

  Sloan’s eyes never left his fiancée as she took in the judge’s office. His gaze wandered over each curve of her body. He smiled at her wide-eyed wonder of the moment. He wanted nothing more than to end his wedding day the proper way—with his new bride naked in his bed, exhausted after hours of lovemaking. However, that wouldn’t be happening. She believed he was gay, and for the moment, it needed to stay that way.

  The justice began the brief ceremony. Abbey’s cheeks pinked in embarrassment when she missed her vows. Then she spoke the words that bonded them together for life. She thought she did it as a temporary solution to Sloan’s immigration problem. He had other ideas. If he had his way—and he frequently got his way—she would remain his eternally.

  The judge finally spoke the words Sloan had been waiting for, giving him permission to kiss his bride. He thought he caught a glimmer of disappointment in Abbey’s eye. She wouldn’t be upset for long. He gathered her into his arms, drawing her to him and parting her lips with his.

  He felt her surrender, her fingers weaving themselves into his hair, as he gently brushed his tongue with hers. As they parted, he couldn’t help but notice the dreamy look on her features. He chuckled. Ah, yes. This lass is mine.

  The click of his cell door opening brought Sloan back to the present. With a smirk, he stood and offered his wrists to the guard. Today was the day he regained his freedom. He certainly wasn’t about to put up a fight.

  He chuckled as he was led through the prison corridors to the exit where the transport van waited. They’d almost had him. But once again he would walk away from Northern Ireland a free man.

  Logan was waiting outside of the courthouse with a goofy grin. Sloan laughed. The guards and officials around them scowled at their joyous attitude. It was very apparent how the outcome of the day would be. They were proceeded by the guards into the crowded courtroom, and then they settled at their table. Shemus waited for them, dressed in his robe and powdered wig. He was also wearing a big smile.

  Sloan looked around the courtroom. “Where’s Fitzgerald?”

  “Arrested, lad. He and Blake Cox. Before Scotland Yard could dig up an old VHS player, Blake Cox turned on Fitzgerald. Full confession for a lesser charge. Cox dripped your blood on the fence while Fitzgerald set the bomb.”

  “Sloan,” Logan whispered as he cocked his head toward the double doors that allowed the public access to the room. Sloan stared at him for a moment before he turned to where the lawyer had indicated.

  There she was, standing in the doorway, dressed in white, just as she had worn on their wedding day. Instead of a dress, however, Abbey was wearing a white suit coat, silk top, and slacks, portraying her position as the COO of Sloan Enterprises.

  Sloan’s heart leaped into his throat in excitement. It had been weeks since he had last seen her, and he had missed her every second they were apart. Her warm hazel eyes met his. She shuddered a deep sigh. He smiled. She had clearly missed him, too.

  Abbey was surrounded by their family. Gordon held Ame in his arms while Mary cradled Ethan to her shoulder. He groaned as his gaze flickered from his daughter to his son. He had missed them nearly as much as he had their mother. He couldn’t wait for them to be a happy family again.

  The entire room turned at the sound of a door opening. The bailiff hardly had a moment to announce the judge before the small, gray-haired man scuttled in behind him. By the skewed expression on his face, it seemed he was overwhelmed by whatever had happened over the past forty-eight hours. He slapped the folder in his hands on the desk. “In light of recent events, Mr. Morrison you are freed with the court’s apology. Thank you to the jury for your service. Case dismissed.”

  With that, the justice rose and rushed from the courtroom. The chamber erupted in loud chatter. Sloan jumped to his feet, shoving his bound wrists beneath the nose of the closest guard with a growl. Once he was free, he spun on the toe of his boot in the direction of Abigail. He pushed his way through the gathering, each person he encountered gaping at him in astonishment. He didn’t care what they thought. He wanted his wife.

  Sloan stopped dead in his tracks as Brown appeared. The former British commander brought an instant snarl from his throat. Brown summoned an officer then ordered him to grab Abigail’s arms. The officer wrenched them behind her back, slipping the cold steel of handcuffs around her wrists. Her eyes calmly met Sloan’s as she willingly let the man bind her.

  “What in the bloody hell?” Sloan objected.

  “Abigail Morrison should be arrested for witness tampering.”

  “Let her go,” Sloan threatened. Ice-cold panic coursed through his veins. Abigail smiled assuredly at him.

  “I don’t believe so, Morrison. Who…

  A voice cut through the crowd that had gathered around them. “Whatever you think she did it wasn’t her, Brown. I have proof.” Logan pushed through, shoving a photo and several pieces of paper in the guard’s face. The image of Abigail, Mary, Maggie, Vicki, and the children exiting an airplane taunted him. “Time stamped this morning. As you can tell by that little sign behind them, it’s the Belfast International Airport. They just arrived in Northern Ireland this morning. What witness could she have spoken to from the United States? Not to mention I have the statements of the pilot, a couple of stewardesses and a couple of airport employees who saw her get off the airplane.”

  “How could you possibly have a photo—?”

  “Because I knew you would pull this kind of crap. Keep it up. I have the United States Embassy on speed dial. Don’t make me call them.” Logan interrupted Brown confidently.

  Brown snarled at the lawyer as the guard whipped the cuffs from Abbey’s wrists.

  Sloan took the final steps through the mob, not stopping until he held Abigail tight in his arms. He turned to Brown, his ice-blue eyes piercing him. “Leave me and my family alone. Do you understand?” he warned.

  Gordon and Liam ushered them from the courtroom before anything else could be said. Somewhere in the melee, Sloan found Ame set in his grasp. The little girl threw her arms around his neck, peppering his face with butterfly kisses while she giggled, “Daddy!” He lost his grip on Abigail, but quickly found her being shepherded out by Logan.

  Flash bulbs from cameras lit the already brilliant corridors. Sloan pressed Ame’s face to his shoulder to protect her from the invading television cameras. He needed to get his family out of this chaos. Now.

  Gordon and Liam led them all outside the building to a fleet of black Expeditions, the same vehicles that rushed Sloan from Belfast previously. Sloan wasted no time. He shifted Ame to his hip and then grabbed his wife by the arm to direct her to the first SUV. He felt her flinch at his touch. Helping both Abbey and Amelia inside, he took Ethan from Mary and climbed in as well, slamming and locking the door behind them.

  He handed Ethan to Abigail as Ame latched the seat belt and then snuggled against him.

  “Can you keep him a moment?” Abbey requested as she slipped her suit coat from her shoulders. “I need to get this off. It’s rubbing my wound.”

  The white linen slid down her arms, revealing a large bandage. He had grabbed her in that area. No wonder she winced.

  Her cheeks tinged pink as she shrugged. “Blake Cox. He found me in his apartment when I went looking for the empty vial of blood. He cut me in an attempt to torture me but I got away and knocked him out with a bat. It could have been much worse.”

  Sloan felt the blood in his veins grow cold as the full realization of what had happened hit him. Yes, it was because of his precious, wee wife that he had been freed. But to do so, she’d become him—a cold, calculating, soulless creature.

  He slowly closed his eyes. It was as he had feared. Being around him for this long had destroyed his innocent, perfect angel. He opened his eyes again, meeting hers. There was a hopeful gaze seeking his approval for wh
at she had done. Unfortunately, he couldn’t give it.

  Abigail frowned. “Do you want me to take Ethan, Tom?”

  “It’s Sloan. Not Tom. Tom is dead forever now.” Sloan looked up to the passenger seat. “Bartholomew, could I borrow your phone? Mine is still with my belongings at the prison.”

  “Sure.” Bartholomew handed the cell over the seat to him. Sloan quickly typed out a text and pressed Send. With a smile he handed the phone back to Bartholomew. Then he snuggled Ame closer to him as he stared out the window.

  After a stop at the prison to get his things, the Expeditions turned down the road that led to the private airstrip of the Belfast International Airport. Sloan smiled as the hangars came into view. It was just as he had ordered. Waiting for them was the Sloan Enterprises jet, ready to return to the United States. Beside it was parked a smaller luxury plane, fully capable of international travel.

  The vehicles came to a stop before the two planes. Sloan stepped out and then took Ethan from Abigail so that she could do the same. She slipped her jacket back on and followed.

  She glanced at the two aircraft, clearly puzzled. “Why are there two? We can all fit in one.”

  “Because I’m going to Hong Kong,” Sloan answered flatly as he fixed his gaze on the airfield ahead. “I’m assuming construction has fallen behind while I was incarcerated, correct?”

  “Maybe a little,” Abigail gasped out. She took a breath. “I’ll go with you. We’ll take Ame and Ethan.”

  “You need to take the children. They need their mother. I’ll go alone.”

  “They need their father, too. They missed you. And Hong Kong was our project. We were going to work on it together,” she objected, a slight whine in her voice.

  He turned to her, glaring coldly. “I go alone. Non-negotiable.”

  Sloan didn’t wait for her to speak again. He stormed off to the smaller jet and jogged up the steps. Once the door was closed, he collapsed into a plush, leather seat and buried his face in his hands.

  He had hurt her. The tears in her eyes had made that clear. But he needed some space from her. He shook his head as he slowly exhaled. None of his sins compared to this one. He promised no one would ever hurt her again. Over and over again he broke that promise. Someday it’ll be too late. Someday someone will take her from me forever.

  Chapter Eight

  Abbey curled against the arm of the sofa as she stared out the floor-to-ceiling window. It was one of the best decisions she had made for her office. She loved to work in comfort while watching the busy streets of downtown Minneapolis below. Today, though, she wasn’t working. She couldn’t get into the task at hand.

  It had been two weeks since she had left Northern Ireland with the family and Sloan had disappeared for Hong Kong. He didn’t communicate with her except by corporate emails that were addressed to the entire board of directors. He never called. No texts. Nothing.

  She was happy that things were back to normal. The children had fallen back into their routines without any trouble. But it broke Abbey’s heart when Ame asked about her daddy. Mommy wanted Daddy home, too.

  Abbey sighed heavily. She’d had no idea that Sloan would be so angry about what she had done. Couldn’t he see why she’d done it? She needed him. She couldn’t live without him. She’d had to do whatever it took to free him. Unfortunately, now he despised her for it.

  A knock at the door pulled her from her musing. Gordon leaned against the frame, smiling as he gazed at her. “Hello, little one.”

  Abbey sat up and straightened her skirt. “Hi, Dad.”

  He crossed the room and sat next to her. “I haven’t talked to you for a few days.”

  “I’ve been busy catching up with work. Hong Kong was further behind than we thought. And now, Sloan wants to start on London. Plus, I’ve been spending as much time as I can with Ame and Ethan.”

  “They missed you.”

  “They did. And they miss their father too.”

  “I know.” Gordon paused as he folded his hands on his lap. “Abigail, as much as I love my grandchildren, I need to take you from them again. Liam and I have talked. What you did to free Sloan took a great deal of cunning and courage. We feel it would be a great benefit to your husband if you train. Your name is now known by some very despicable characters. It’s well attached to Sloan’s. We need to know you’ll be safe.”

  Abbey frowned. “Train? Train how?”

  “In combat. How to handle firearms. Basic survival.”

  “So…how to be a mercenary.”

  Gordon chuckled. “For the most part, yes. But not a mercenary, more like an assassin."

  Abbey shuddered at the word. “An assassin means killing.”

  Gordon took her hand. “No one would ask you to kill, not unless Sloan’s life was in danger. We want you to do this to protect you both. If you can protect yourself, Sloan has to worry less and can concentrate more on defending himself.”

  “If I learn this, he won’t have to worry about me at all.”

  Gordon laughed again. “Little one, he will always be more concerned about you than himself. You’re his everything.”

  “He’s in Hong Kong, Dad. Not here. I doubt that.” Abbey took a deep breath and then let it go. “So, when do I start this training?”

  “We leave in the morning.”

  “Leave? For where?”

  “Bangkok, Thailand.”

  “Bangkok? Why Bangkok?”

  “When the four of us—Robert, Bartholomew, Sloan and I—became a happy little family, Sloan bought a warehouse to train each other in. We named it the Gauntlet. Up to this point, only we have trained there. Now, we will add two more to its ranks.”

  “Two?”

  “Have you noticed that your Executive Council hasn’t answered an email for over two weeks? Logan is finishing the final steps of his training. Now that he’s been in the spotlight with Sloan, he’s a target. Best to prepare him.”

  “And what does Sloan think of this?”

  “Liam and I think this is best. Believe it or not, Abigail, we’re still the commanders. Despite Sloan’s money and notoriety, he’s a soldier. We’ll take his opinion into consideration, but we do what’s best for the team.”

  Abbey stood and strode to her desk. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning. What do I wear in Bangkok?”

  “Wear clothes that you’re flexible in. Cool exercise clothes. You’ll be doing some physically exhausting things. Besides, Bangkok is rather warm this time of year. I’ll pick you up at six o’clock and drop off your mother to take care of the children.”

  “Great. Can’t wait.”

  Gordon stood and then walked to her, giving her a quick hug. Silently, he slipped from the room. Part of Abbey wanted to call Sloan, to tell him what was about to happen. Instead, she turned off her computer, picked up her purse, and trudged her way to the parking garage.

  Abbey spent the night cuddling her children close, making Ame’s favorite supper, and watching her favorite movies. It was well after their bedtime before she packed. It didn’t take long. She didn’t have much for exercise wear, and she didn’t think there would be much use for things like makeup, lotions, or jewelry. Where she was headed, she’d be lucky if she got a shower.

  Gordon and Mary were on her doorstep at six o’clock just as he promised. Abbey kissed Ethan in his crib as he slumbered. Tears filled her eyes when she kissed a sleepy Ame goodbye as Mary held the little girl in her arms. She followed her stepfather, swallowing back sobs as he drove to the airport.

  She didn’t say a word during the flight. There was too much on her mind. She already missed her children. The idea of becoming an assassin terrified and intrigued her at the same time. Most of all, her mind was consumed with thoughts of Sloan. Was he alone? Did he love her anymore?

  Bangkok was breathtaking. Abbey was awestruck as the hired car sped through the city. The kaleidoscope of colors mesmerized her. The ancient temples and beautiful architecture of this Asian metropolis were unbel
ievable. But she knew this incredible scenery wouldn’t last, that where they were headed wasn’t found in a tourism brochure.

  She didn’t realize just how right she was until they arrived.

  The mammoth warehouse was larger than she had ever seen. It was surrounded by thick, chain-link fences lined with barbed wire, leaving enough area inside for a dirt and cement courtyard. The top edge of each external wall was lined with grimy windows that couldn’t possibly let any light through. Three dock doors were embedded in the far corner of the south wall.

  The only evidence of who this building belonged to was one rusty plate attached to the fence that read Sloan Enterprises.

  “Welcome to your home for the next couple of months,” Gordon announced, his thick Irish brogue hopeful as he took the two bags that were his and Abbey’s luggage and stepped from the car.

  Abbey’s stomach turned. This was an adventure she wasn’t sure she was going to survive. She scanned the building warily. “Home?”

  “Yes. You will eat here. You will sleep here. You will train here. You won’t have access to five star hotels on most of your assignments.”

  Abbey let a laugh slip from her lips. She had been born and raised in Iowa. She had gone camping. She had used the port-a-potty at the county fair. She knew the meaning of roughing it. However, she couldn’t remotely imagine her billionaire husband doing without his twelve-hundred-thread-count luxury sheets.

  Gordon tugged the chain-link gate open and ushered her through, picking up the bags he had set on the dusty ground. After they passed, he pulled it shut and locked it. She followed him into the warehouse.

  Abbey was astounded by the interior of the structure. A long, wide, empty room, easily the size of a football field, was lined with doors. A staircase led to a second floor. In the far distant corner were several pieces of expensive weight equipment.

  Gordon led her to one of the doors and motioned inside. She stepped into the room, finding a small, wooden table with a rickety chair. Alongside the far wall sat a cot covered with a plain white sheet. One light bulb in the ceiling lit the tiny room.