Page 28 of Abigail's King
Chapter Twelve
Kye
Iwas struggling to be back in Madeira. There were too many bad memories here for me, ones that I had tried to put behind me for the past nineteen years. I had never managed it, though. They were always forefront in my mind, especially when it came to falling in love.
Abigail was desperately trying to get me to open up to her, every day pushing a little harder to know about my past. I tried to give her enough information to placate her, but I still didn’t think it was enough for her. The problem was, if I did tell her, I knew she would feel differently about me. If she knew what I had done in my life, she would run a mile, and where would that leave me? Devastated. I didn’t think I could take another rejection, because that’s what they were. All the women I loved in my life had rejected me. They may not have said the words, but by falling in love with other men, that was what they had done. They didn’t see me as worthy boyfriend material, so they decided to just be a friend.
The more time I spent wIth Abigail, the more real it was becoming. All I could think about was her. Wanting her to hold me and to feel her soft lips against my skin. It was becoming obvious to me that I was past the point of falling for her; I was in love with her. She was everything I could ever want in a woman. Gorgeous, intelligent, and funny. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. But how long would it last before she fell in love with someone else and I was cast aside again?
I couldn’t let it happen. Not with her. A rejection from her would finish me. Life wouldn’t be worth living without her in it. I just had to contend with being her friend for as long as she needed me – or better, treat her as the job that she was. A woman that needed protecting from a stalker.
The issue was, I already knew I was sending her the wrong signs. Calling her “Bonita” was my first mistake. Yes, she was beautiful, but using the Portuguese term as an endearment was probably the worst thing I could have done. When she suggested walking along the beach, I immediately hesitated. That was something that two people in love would do, not a bodyguard and his detail. I saw the look in her eyes, desperately hoping that I would say yes. I wanted to say no, but that wasn’t something I could say to Abigail. I would forever say yes to her.
As soon as I took her hand in mine, I felt the electricity between us. It wasn’t the first time, but every time it happened, I felt another chink in the armour I put around my heart fall away. As we walked along the beach, I continued to hold her hand. Yet another sign that I wanted to be with her. Then I went and put the final nail in the coffin. As we sat down, I immediately pulled her to my side. When she rested her head on my shoulder, the armour around my heart shattered. No matter how much I loved her, though, it really didn’t matter. I didn’t deserve her love. I didn’t deserve the love of any woman.
None of that really was important, though, as I had more worrying things to think about. My brother was arriving tomorrow, and it wasn’t something I was looking forward to. I had said some terrible things to him before I left home. Things I regretted as soon as I walked out of the door. It was one of the reasons I had tried to get Nathan to forgive Tyler. Although they weren’t true siblings, they had grown up together. To me, they were brothers in the true sense of the word. I couldn’t let them throw away that relationship like I had with Mateus. I still couldn’t believe that he had not only taken my call, but also agreed to come and help me. I know that he haad said he loved me, but how could he forgive the things I’d said? I had basically accused him of convincing Sofia that I was no good for her. That he only wanted her because I was in love with her and was jealous. If I looked back now, I realised that none of that was the case. She, like the rest of them, only saw me as a friend. A non-blood brother that would always be there for her. Pick her up when she was down, or protect her from the evil of the world. The problem was, for a while, I was part of the evil of the world.
I had let my entire family down with my actions over the past eighteen years. I was proud to say that I had never personally killed a man, but I had been present several times when someone had. That made me an accessory. I had managed to stay out of prison every time, but I still felt as though the blood of those men was on my hands. I woke up most nights from the nightmares those days had left me with. It was one reason why this kind of job was good for me. I hardly slept, so I would usually be awake to make sure nothing happened to whoever I was looking after. I was sure Kelsey had realised a few times that I had been up most nights talking to Nathan whilst she was asleep. It was the only way I got through the night. That, or alcohol, and that was something I would be steering clear of until I knew Abigail was safe from harm.
Kelsey assumed I used alcohol to get over not having a woman in my life. Or to mask the pain of Sofia. I’ll admit that was partly it, but mostly it was to allow me to actually sleep. Hence why most weekends I could be found unconscious on my sofa on a Sunday afternoon after a binge over Saturday and Sunday morning, if I was still awake by then. The horrors that plagued me most evenings would have been enough to send any normal person insane. I, on the other hand, used them to remind myself of the person I had become. I had tried to change my life, and for the most part, I had, but part of me would always be that mercenary, hiding in the darkness ready to pounce. It was all I knew. Which brought me back full circle, the reason I was alone.
I could feel the darkness descending on me again. The one that would usually see me grabbing a bottle to drown my sorrows. But I couldn’t do that here. I had to make sure that Abigail was safe at all times, and being drunk on duty was something I would never forgive myself for. As I sat on the deck looking out at the ocean in front of me, watching the clouds pass over the moon causing shadows, I felt them slowly getting closer to me and encasing me in their cloak of darkness. I knew I couldn’t stay here. The depression I had always managed to fight off with alcohol was quickly taking over my mind and soul.
I decided to turn to the only other thing that kept me sane: music. It had been years since I had played the piano. Once, I had been part of a band. We had played all kinds of music, but I was never happier than when I was playing one of Jim Steinman and Meat Loaf’s classic theatrical pieces. I got up from my seat and walked back into the house, grabbed a bottle of water, and headed into my study. I called it my study, but I hardly ever worked there. The room was big enough that over in one corner, looking out onto the grounds of my house, was a grand piano. The company that looked after my property when I was away would send someone in each year to tune it correctly, and as it had been done recently, I knew it would sound perfect. The other reason why I had chosen this room to place it was that for some reason the acoustics in here were perfect.
I placed the bottle of water down on the floor, walked around, and opened the lid of the piano. I sat down in front of it, placed my fingers on the keys, and felt the energy from them start to cast away the shadows surrounding me. Before I knew what was happening, I was playing a tune. One that I probably wouldn’t have chosen myself. However, my subconscious self must have thought I needed to hear it. I ran through the words to the song as I played, not daring to sing because of the pain it would bring me. The song was “Heaven Can Wait.”
I could feel the tears starting to form in my eyes as I played. How I would have loved for Abigail to hear this. It was one thing I knew I could do, and do well. No one apart from my friends and family here knew that I could sing and play the piano. My associates would have made fun of me if they knew. The mercenary of the night being a soft musician.
I felt a presence behind me. Not close, but I knew someone or something was here. I waited for them to get closer, wondering if my past had finally caught up with me, or perhaps the Grim Reaper had finally come to cast my soul down to hell for the life I had led. But it never moved closer. It was just there in the background, enough to make its presence known, but far enough away not to be a threat. The old me would have thought it was a sign from God, and perhaps it was. Perhaps the song I was playing was sent to me by him, telling me that my time wasn’t now and I still had a chance to redeem my sins of the past.
I’d lost my faith a long time ago, but at this moment, I felt a light within me, one that hadn’t been there for years. Was it me allowing God back into my heart? Or was the light actually a person that I had slowly allowed to break down the barriers I had surrounded myself in? Was Abigail my light?
I played the final chords of the song and turned to look at the person standing there. But there was no one. I walked over to the door, opened it, and looked along the corridor. Just darkness. But I no longer felt the cloak that had been surrounding me. I just felt the light in my heart.
I walked back to the piano and placed my fingers back on the keys. But this time there was nothing. I didn’t feel the need to play. I just felt weary. I hung my head for a moment as the tears fell down my face. I felt the sudden need to repent all of my sins. I knew I should do this in the church confessional, but I felt as though God was listening to me. At that moment, he had been here for me to remind me of who I once was.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been eighteen years since my last confession.”
I sat there in silence for a while. I knew there would be no answer, no Father sat there listening to my confession. But still, I continued, hoping that God himself was listening, and would hear my prayers.
“I know you have seen what I have done. The sins I have committed. And I know I will be judged by you when I face you at my death. I hope you have sent me these signs this evening. And I thank you for answering my prayers and saving Nathan. He didn’t deserve to die, not like me. I just wanted you to know that I have opened my heart to you again, and whatever punishment you feel I should face, I will take it.”
I sat there for a moment in silence, reciting the Lord’s prayer in my head and for the first time in years I felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from me. I felt as though I could face anything or anyone, including my brother. I wiped the tears from my face and headed into my bedroom to get ready for the sleep I knew wouldn’t come. Placing my head down on the pillow, I felt a calmness come over me, and for the first time in years, the darkness of the night didn’t come over me. Just the peacefulness of sleep.
