Chapter 31

ABBY

When we walk inside, two officers come with us. They look over the property for any sign of who did this. Jack sits down at his computer and touches the mouse. The screen flares to life. He types quickly, not saying what he's doing. The Brimstone site comes up. There's a new entry at the top with a picture of Jackson's burning car. My heart seizes in my chest. The caption under the image says, "Those who are immoral will be consumed by flame."

Jack scrolls down. There are pictures of the picketers from earlier. He stands and goes to the door. I hear him talking to the cops outside, telling them that the Brimstone group posted pictures before the news coverage of the car fire. "One of them was here," Jack says. His words send a chill through me.

He speaks with them for a few more minutes and comes back inside. I'm sitting in front of the computer, reading with a horrified look on my face. Jack switches the monitor off, but I still stare blankly forward.

"Who would do this, Jack? Jackson had nothing to do with this."

Jack pulls me from the chair and takes me in his arms. I feel safe against his chest and terrified - terrified that he'll be taken away from me. I hold on tight, thinking it may be the last time. "They weren't after him, Abby. I had no idea things would be like this. I would have never started the tour. I would have - fuck, I don't know what I would have done. There was no way to see this coming." He sucks in air. It fills his chest, and some of the anger fades from his voice when he speaks again. "I'm not leaving your side until this is over. Let's go to the house and grab blankets and whatever else we need. I told the police that we'd stay in the main building tonight."

I nod solemnly. I still don't want to let go of him. Fear is consuming me, choking me so hard that I can't breathe. My fingers press into his sides harder, holding him close.

"Abby," he says comfortingly, "they aren't going to take me away from you." Jack kisses the top of my head and wrenches me off of him. He holds my shoulders tightly, but I feel like I'm falling to pieces inside. I can't shake it. I feel horrible that Jackson was here, that he died. Then my mind shifts to what could have been - Jack in that body bag - and I can't stand it. My eyes are filled with tears that won't spill over. He grips my arms hard and says, "Look at me, Abby." I glance up at him. "Nothing could take me away from you. We'll get through this, together. Both of us. I promise."

"How can you promise? You don't know - "

He smiles softly at me. Jack threads his fingers into my hair, pushing it away from the tears that are streaking down my face. "I know that you were made for me. I know that you're my soul mate - that I belong with you. We tried to stay apart; we both thought we were doing what was right. In the end, it didn't matter, and that's the reason why. You were right when you told me that we were connected on a spiritual level. I feel it. I know it. I kept trying to deny it and say that all this happened because I was a greedy dick, that I corrupted you, but it would have happened anyway. It's not fate; it's love. I've never seen anyone else have anything like this. I love you, Abby, with every fiber of my being. I'll protect you. I'll always be there for you." Jack smiles crookedly at me and adds, "Keep the faith."

I smile, even though I don't feel like it. "Are you going to sing now? That's a song you used to listen to."

He nods. "I'd sing forever, if it kept a smile on your face."

I wrap my arms around him again. "I feel so weak, Jack. It's like I'm made of tiny grains of sand, but there's nothing holding me together. Anything could blow me apart right now."

I pull back and look up at Jack. His blue eyes are clear as crystals. "I'll hold you together, Abby. I'll be your water, your glue - anything you need."

Chapter 32

JACK

Abby and Jack hurry off to the house and grab the things they need for the night. Within ten minutes, they're back in the studio. Jack takes Abby's blankets and makes a bed for her on the couch. She lies down and he tucks her in, kissing her softly on the lips.

"Where will you be?" she asks sleepily. The shock of everything is catching up with her, but her body is too exhausted to deal with it.

"Painting." Jack points, "Over there. I won't leave this room without you."

She nods and smiles at him, snuggling into her pillow. "Can I watch you work? Will you move the curtain away?"

Jack grins at her. He wanted to wait and show her when he finished, but after today, Jack realizes, it might not get finished. Swallowing hard, he says, "Yeah. I'll let you watch." She smiles back and it makes his heart swell. There's always been something about the woman. She has the ability to make him soar.

Jack takes one of the drinks from the table and pops the can of soda open. He guzzles it and then goes to pull back the curtain that's concealing Abby's new painting. His heart beats wildly in his chest. This is one of the things that terrifies him as much as it delights him. Jack's hands grab the fabric and he pulls it back, walking the long drape out of the way.

Abby pushes herself up on her elbow. Her perfect little mouth drops open and she just stares. Jack's heart thumps harder, waiting for her to say something. The painting is nowhere near done, but he can see it as if it were.

Sitting up, the sheet falls off of Abby. She pads barefoot across the floor and stops next to Jack. He hears her breathing hard. When he turns to look at her, Abby's eyes are taking it all in. Jack says nothing and waits for her to say something.

"Jack," she breathes his name and continues to stare in awe. "I have no words." Wide eyed, she looks at the painting longer. "No words at all."

Jack's nerves climb up his throat. He can't tell if her shock is good or bad. He's worked so hard on this and wants her to love it as much as he does. Jack wasn't there when she saw her last painting for the first time. He doesn't know what her face looked like, how she took it then. It would have helped judge her reaction now. Jack looks at the toe of his sneaker and swallows hard. "So, is that good or bad?"

The painting lines one wall. It's huge. The result is a life-size painting of Abby. The colors are vibrant and muted at the same time. He got the idea when Abby started to cry. The tears washed away some of the paint and his hugs crumpled the body paint he'd applied that night. It gave the painting the evocative nature he was known for, but instead of it feeling lonely, it feels hopeful. The tears streak the painting like rain, washing away everything that's bad. Abby is depicted as a pale goddess, walking through a garden with her hand outstretched. Everything she touches comes to life. Her tears are rain. They streak her beautiful face, showing the humanity within her. The flowers literally vine from the ground, just trying to touch her. They swirl up around her waist, leaving a vibrant trail of color in her wake. The ground in front of her is vacant, blank canvas waiting for her touch. It says so much about what he thinks of her. The pressure inside his chest increases. He knows that Abby doesn't like be depicted as an angel, so making her into an ethereal creature like this had the potential to go either way - she could love it or hate.

Abby snaps out of her trance and laughs. Her beautiful face lights up. "It's good. Oh my God, you couldn't tell, could you?" Jack shakes his head. Shyly, he looks away from her, but Abby takes his face between her palms. "This is the most stunning, hauntingly beautiful thing that I've ever seen. It's not even done yet, and I'm blown away. I don't know what to say..." Her gaze is locked with his. Jack feels his body respond to her touch, to her praise.

Taking her hands from his face, Jack says, "Then, I can't wait to see what you think when it's done." He holds her for a moment, feeling a peace that has evaded him since he returned from their honeymoon.

When Abby lets go, she says, "You finally understand, don't you?"

He nods slowly. "I didn't take your wings away because you were always mine. I see you through the tears, and it's those tears that brought you back to me. It was that pain that allowed you to start another life. We usually think of sorrow as a bad thing, but sometimes it's what's needed to move forward."

She smiles at him and lowers those thick lashes of hers. When she looks up again, she asks, "And the blank side of the canvas, what's going to go there?"

"Nothing. It's the future and the future hasn't been written yet. It's ours to make."

She smiles broadly. "Good, I like it that way. It's hauntingly hopeful. I can feel the pain seeping through the work, but the way you painted me, the way I'm floating, moving forward into the unknown..." Her voice trails off and she sighs. Abby's eyes cut to mine. "It's the best thing you've ever made. Jack," she shakes her head, "I have no words. I wish I could say how this makes me feel, how much you inspire me." Her green eyes lock with his. When she throws her arms around him, Jack scoops her up into his arms.

He walks across the room and lays her back on the couch, pulling the blanket up to her chin. He leans in and brushes his lips against hers ever so softly. There were so many things she could have said, so many ways to interpret what he'd done, but Abby saw what was written in his art. They have a connection that's only supposed to exist in fairytales. Jack is beaming when he stands up.

Looking down at her, he says, "Rest, Abby. I'll paint for a little bit and then go to sleep in a little while."