Chapter 362 The Debt and the Bottle
Sebastian’s POV
I glanced at her. “If you knew how to pick something up, you ought to know how to set it down. That’s all I’ve got for you.”
A bitter smile crossed her lips, tears shining behind it. “Fine. Understood. Thank you for the kind words.”
She snatched up the iced tea and drained it in one long pull, then rose to her feet. “I’m going. Goodbye.”
I watched the door swing shut behind her. Sat there a moment longer. Then I grabbed my jacket and headed out.
When I stepped through the entrance, I stopped short. She was still there, lingering by the curb.
“Why haven’t you left?”
“Waiting on my car.”
“Want a ride?”
“No need.”
I didn’t push it. I crossed to my car, yanked the door open, and dropped into the seat. The engine roared awake. I shifted into gear, ready to pull out, and then something in the rearview mirror snagged my eye.
Four, maybe five men had closed in around Abigail. Her face had gone white, mouth open, eyes wide with fear.
I frowned and gripped the wheel. Part of me didn’t want to wade back into her life. The other part couldn’t stomach leaving her to that.
Then one of them cracked a hand across her face. She hit the pavement, tears streaking down her cheeks.
That settled it. I shoved the door open and stalked over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Every head turned at once. The one in front sneered. “Her mother ran up a mountain of gambling debt and never paid a cent. Now the little bitch won’t cover it either. Debts pass down, don’t they?”
My face went cold. “How much does she owe?”
“Three years of interest tacked on? Eight and a half million. On the nose.”
“That slap just now. Take it back.” I pulled my checkbook from my coat. “And I’ll give you seventeen million.”
They froze. Before a single one of them could so much as blink, I’d already covered the ground between us. My palm connected with the leader’s jaw, hard enough to snap his head sideways. Then I scrawled my name across a check and flicked it at his chest. “Twenty million. Keep the change.”
He pressed a hand to his flaming cheek and looked me over, slow. Whatever he read in me, it was enough to make him swallow his pride. “For the sake of this check,” he gritted out, “I’ll let it slide.”
Then his gaze slid to Abigail on the ground, and his mouth twisted. “Goes to show. A pretty face always pays off. Girl like this could work a street corner and still have men lining up to foot the bill. Serve your new boss well, sweetheart, and you’ll never want for a thing.”
My fist caught him before the last word left his mouth. Whatever I felt for Abigail had died long ago, but I’d be damned before I’d stand there and let a man I once loved be dragged through the mud like that.
And that punch lit the fuse. The rest of them surged at me all at once. I’d trained for years, and Ryder prowled just beneath my skin, hungry for it, so throwing a few thugs around came easy enough. But numbers wear a man down.
While I had my back half-turned, the leader snatched an empty bottle off the ground and hurled it at my head.
“Ah!”
Abigail slammed into me. At the last possible second, she’d thrown herself between me and the glass. The bottle burst against her forehead. Blood spilled down over my shirt, soaking through the fabric in seconds.
The moment they saw her go down bleeding, the whole pack scattered into the dark.
“Abigail? Abigail!” I caught her as she sagged, panic rising in my throat.
Sirens wailed nearby, but the police arrived too late to matter. I couldn’t wait for them. I scooped her up and ran for the car, then sped toward the hospital.
She was lucky, in the end. The bottle had only grazed her, leaving a shallow gash across her forehead and missing anything serious. The CT scan came back clean. A nurse cleaned and dressed the wound, and the doctor said she was fine to go home.
We walked out of the hospital, but the anger in my chest hadn’t cooled.
“Is your head made of iron?” I snapped. “Did I ask you to catch a bottle with your face? You should’ve stayed back and let me handle it. That’s what anyone with half a brain would’ve done.”
“You were defending me,” Abigail shot back, pressing the gauze to her forehead. “How was I supposed to stand there and watch you get hurt? Either way, I owe you for tonight. Thank you.”
I waved her off. “Don’t bother. I’d have done the same for a complete stranger.”
Something flickered in her eyes, then faded. She understood what I meant. I hadn’t done it for her. It had been instinct. The right thing to do. Nothing more.
“I’ll pay back the twenty million,” she said.
“Keep it. Call it payment for the evidence.”
“No. I gave you that evidence because I still love you. You didn’t write that check for the same reason.” She lifted her chin. “So I’m not letting it go. If you’d done it because you still cared about me, that would be different. You didn’t. I’ll pay back every cent.”
Love couldn’t be put on a balance sheet. Everything else had a price, and she wanted to settle the account.
I shrugged. “Do whatever you want.”
I wasn’t about to lie and pretend I still loved her just to spare her the debt.
“Get in,” I said. “I’ll drive you home.”
This time, she didn’t argue. She slid into the passenger seat, and we drove in silence as the city lights passed outside the windows. I pulled up in front of her building.
She lingered with her hand on the door. “Do you want to come up for a while?”