Adam bundled Abigail close to his side, and escorted her quickly out of the club to where Wyatt stood at the curb holding the car door open. One of his hands remained hidden beneath his suit coat, while his eyes restlessly scanned the bustling street for any trace of danger. There was no doubt in Adam's mind, if he spotted anything remotely suspicious, he wouldn't hesitate to fire to protect them. The tense actions of his driver, combined with everything that had transpired this evening, only added to Adam's desire to get the fuck out of the city as soon as possible. With his heart pounding in his chest, and every nerve in his body tingling with alertness, the slamming of the door behind him about made him jump out of his skin. Quickly smothering the reaction, he busily secured Abigail's seatbelt.

Right now, he couldn't let his emotions control the situation. His main priority had to be seeing her safely tucked away somewhere. He couldn't afford to dwell on the surging anger inside him, and he couldn't risk staying to make a stand against these assholes who suddenly seem to be controlling his life. No matter how much it infuriated him, he had no choice but to let more time pass before justice was served. He scrubbed a palm over his face as he leaned back in his seat. It was going to be almost fucking impossible to maintain any semblance of calmness when he felt he was about to crumble at any second. He glanced over at Abigail's pale profile, and sucked in a calming breath. For her...he had to at least try.

The stiff way she held her body, and the nonstop trembling of her hands was more proof than he needed to know she was on the verge of cracking. Fuck, he couldn't blame her for that, not when he was experiencing the same. He had felt the blood drain slowly from his own face after learning Garrick Hanover had been the one responsible. The ground had teetered uncomfortably beneath his feet as Clara told her story, and he had been forced to grab hold of the edge of the couch in fear he was about to hit the ground. All he could think of was it could have been her. His sweet, Abigail. And it would have been his fault.

Adam didn't consider himself the kind of man who was faint of heart, but picturing Abigail laying battered and bleeding on that damn couch was more than he could take. It never occurred to him Hanover would be searching for some kind of retribution. It never crossed his mind that losing his company and all his ill-gotten gain, would push the fucker over the edge. He had greatly misjudged the man, and it didn't sit well with him. Adam wasn't accustomed to making those kinds of mistakes, and now...because of his short comings in handling the situation...he had placed Abigail in greater danger. He swallowed hard as guilt assaulted him, making him feel every bit the bastard he knew deep down he still was.

"We're about 34 minutes to JFK, sir," Wyatt said over his shoulder, folding his tall frame behind the wheel. "Less than 25 if the traffic is cooperative."

"I'll triple your salary if you can get us there in under 20." Adam turned, and placed his arm around Abigail's shoulders, gently tugging her against his side as far as her seatbelt would allow as the car lurched at a breakneck pace into traffic. "Hang on, baby," he murmured against her forehead, placing a light kiss above her furrowed brow. "We will be safely in the air in no time."

"I can't believe I'm running again," she said softly, her smoky gaze shaded with doubt and fear.

He studied her for a moment, his gaze moving over her face. Reaching up, he lightly touched the spot he'd kissed only seconds ago, wishing his lips had the power to take away her worry.

"Sweet, Abigail," he murmured. "This time is vastly different than what you have suffered in the past. We are running together." Lowering his hand, he wrapped her cold fingers in his. "But it will only be for a short time. This is nothing more than a necessary calculated retreat to keep you safe." She shut her eyes, closing him and his words out. Gently, he squeezed her hand to bring her attention back to him. "It's going to be okay, baby. I promise you. You are not alone."

"Nothing is okay anymore," she spit out, tugging her hand free. "Nothing has been okay since the day Dean stepped into my life." She turned to face the window, the passing cars highlighting a single tear as it made its way down her cheek.

Leaning back against the headrest, Adam resisted the urge to kiss the sparkling droplet away. The forlorn sound of her voice made his heart ache. There was nothing he wouldn't do...wouldn't give...wouldn't pay...to take her pain away from her. But for all his wealth, he was helpless.

"I know, Abigail. We're going to change that," he said at last. Leaning over, he put both his hands on the sides of her face, and turned her to face him once more. His thumbs skimmed over the smooth skin of her cheek, catching another tear as it fell. "Together we will put an end to this madness."

Her eyes lifted to his face...and took his breath away. She was so incredibly beautiful. Her hair a rumpled mess that made him long to run his fingers through it until it fell in chestnut waves down her back. The way her nose turned slightly at the end, those small smattering of freckles kissing the bridge, her full lips pleading for his kisses, and her soft watering expression marred by smeared mascara...all added up to leaving him breathless. Everything he held most dear in this world, was being held in the palms of his hands. He was so in love with this woman, he could barely function. If anything ever happened to her...it would leave him beyond empty. For the first time in his life, he finally understood what his mother must have dealt with after the passing of his father.

"I won't let anyone hurt you. I swear it," he said fiercely.

She looked up at him. Two grey sparkling pools trained on his face. "What about you and your safety?" she asked, her bottom lip quivering. "Even with all your money and power, you weren't able to stop him. He managed to invade your home...your mother's home...and now..." she swallowed, "there's Hanover with his own personal sick vendetta." She shook her head sadly. "How...how are we going to fight both of them?"

Adam grimaced, and cursed under his breath. "No, I didn't stop your stepfather, but I'm going to. As for Hanover, I admit, I was not expecting that, but do not doubt me for one second, Abigail. He will be swiftly dealt with."

With a shaky hand, she touched the grim set of his lips. "I never doubted you, Adam. Not for one moment have I ever not believed you. In fact, you are a little too good to be true at times, and it scares me." She let out a dry breathy laugh. "I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."

A confusing mix of relief, and sadness filled him. Relief she still believed in him, despite his failures, but it also filled him with sadness knowing she doubted the strength of his feelings towards her. He supposed she had been let down so much in her life, a little distrust was to be expected. But it didn't make the bitter pill easier to swallow. Being with her had become to mean more to him than simply being a pleasurable encounter, and it had happened astonishingly quickly. His feelings had gone from wanting to only have a good time with no strings attached, to truly caring for her. Eventually, he had fallen head over heels in love. Now, he was starting to think he wanted even more from this relationship with Abigail Lane. He wanted something far more permanent.

However, if he was going to be successful in obtaining his greatest acquisition of his lifetime, he had his work cut out for him. How did he get her to understand and realize what he felt was forever, and would remain unchanging? She was so focused on waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under her, that making her see him as the man she needed in her life would not be an easy task. Especially given the fucking circumstances, he thought grimly. But, Adam was certain he would rise to the challenge. Little by little, he would prove to her how very right they were for each other.

And there was no time like the present to start. Grabbing her hands, he held them between them. "I believe I once told you I was no Boy Scout, so I will not sit here and try to convince you how good I am, but...I am good for you, Abigail. And we are good together. One day, you will see that."

"Right now all I can wish is that you had stayed out of this," she said on a heavy sigh. "I didn't want you involved. That's why I kept pushing you away, and kept telling you to stay out of it." She glanced up at him with a cynical smirk curling her lips. "But what did you do? You kept hounding me. You just wouldn't let it go, and now...you could end up dead because of it."

"I'm not going to die, and neither are you." He tried to scoff away her unease, but, deep down, the same anxiety churned his gut. Not for himself, but for her. The magnitude of all that had happened weighed down heavily on his shoulders, along with a hefty amount of guilt. Culpability over having been the one to bring Hanover into her already tormented situation, ate at him. Now, thanks to his fuck up, his demons were now nipping at her heels.

"People have already died." Shame filled her eyes, and she tucked her chin to her chest. "I was too scared and weak to save them, and now...I could lose you too."

Gently nudging his finger under her chin, he lifted her anguished face. "Abigail, you are not weak. You have never been weak. You've been through the very fires of hell, and survived. There are not very many people I know who would have gone through what you have been with such strength and grace. Not only have you endured, but you have remained a kind, generous, and beautiful woman in spite of it." With a quick flick of his wrist, he unhooked her seatbelt, and gathered her into his lap. "We will survive this, together. Now, stop all this morbid talk of death. Nobody is going to die. Not today...not tomorrow...not ever."

"You don't know that for certain."

"Ah, baby, that's where you are wrong. I do know that."

A small smile twitched the corners of her mouth from the conviction of his tone, and she laid her head against his chest. "You can't stop death, Mr. Steele. We all have to go sooner or later."

Adam felt her body relaxing into his, and he inhaled her familiar scent deeply. It's sweet intoxicating fragrance pouring light into the darkness, and chased the doubt lurking in the depths of his subconscious.

"You will see, Abigail. I can be very persuasive when need be."

A light giggle reached his hears, causing his own lips to stretch into a smile.

"Persuasive even against death itself? What are you going to do? Don on your Big Bad Wolf persona, and huff and puff it away?"

He drew her tighter to him, nuzzling the top of her head. "If it kept me from losing you, then I would do just that...with every last breath I have," he murmured against her head.

"You owe me that triple pay, sir," Wyatt announced a short time later with a tight lipped grin in the rearview mirror. "We made it in just under 20 minutes."

Adam looked up as the car pulled onto the tarmac of JFK, and around to where three Steele Industries jets waited lined up in a sentinel row. "What the fuck," he cussed under his breath. Why was half his fleet sitting out on the runway?

"What part of the airport is this?" Abigail asked, lifting her head from where it had been resting on his shoulder. "Are those..." She leaned forward, sticking her head between the driver and passenger seats. "Are those your jets?" She turned to face him, her face a perfect Kodak moment of shocked surprise.

"Undoubtedly," he muttered, easing her off his lap as Wyatt made his way around the car to open his door.

"Why are there three of them?"

Stepping out onto the asphalt, he wondered the same damn thing. "We are about to find out," he told her, catching sight of Jonathan making his way over to them. Offering his hand, he helped her out of the car. Drawing her close to his side, he tried to block the chilly New York wind from accosting her as they waited for his brother to approach.

"You made it," Jonathan said, looking down at his watch. An exact replica of the one now gracing Abigail's wrist. "Damn, you made good time too. I'm going to have to think about stealing Wyatt away from you brother. Apparently, he must have some serious NASCAR running through his blood."

"You can't afford him," Adam stated dryly. Looking pointedly over his brother's shoulder, he nodded his head at the jets. "Care to explain why you have half the Steele armada sitting out on the tarmac?"

"It was Hathaway's idea." Jonathan shrugged his shoulders as if that explained everything.

Which, to Adam's annoyance, didn't actually explain a damn thing. "I doubt I will get a satisfactory answer, but I am going to attempt it again anyway. Why are there three jets?" Adam asked again, his tone growing sharper as his agitation rose.

"If you are going to insist on busting my balls about this, can we at least get inside the plane first? It's fucking cold out here, and you'd have an easier time if my boys weren't sucked up against my liver."

"There's a visual I didn't need." Adam's eyes rolled back in his head, but he grudgingly followed Jonathan to the first of his three planes. Erich was waiting for them at the top of the stairs when they entered the aircraft. A quick glance at the empty cockpit told him there would be no co-pilot for this trip. Erich would be flying solo. That didn't surprise him. He knew Erich was well equipped and certified in single pilot operations. He could fly this baby with one arm tied around his back in the middle of a hurricane. But what did surprise the shit out of him, was the unexpected passengers sitting in his fucking plane.

Abigail gasped beside him. "Jo Jo? Steph?" Her eyes grew wide, and danced between the two of them as they sat grinning at her from their seats on the plush sofa along one side of the plane. "What are you two doing here? And...and what are you wearing?"

Jo Jo gracefully rose, and did an exaggerated swagger over to where they were. Adam had to blink several times to believe his eyes. Standing in front of him, wearing yet another one of his Armani suits, stood Abigail's roommate. Or what use to be her roommate. With his hair dyed the exact same shade as his own, and meticulously styled to mimic Adam's, it was hard to make out the once flamboyant drag queen underneath. Fuck...he must have been wearing colored contacts, because even his eyes were the same shade of brown. It was like eerily looking into a reflection and seeing his own face...but not.

"Holy crap on a cracker," Abigail whispered in awe, her mouth falling open, utterly shocked.

"Lovely to see you as always, baby girl," Jo Jo said as he reached for her hand, and brought it up to his lips allowing them to brush over the back of her knuckles. "Welcome to my private jet." Even his voice, though not an exact match of Adam's, was lacking its usual extravagant inflection.

"Does somebody want to tell me what the hell is going on?" Adam barked.

"I told you, it was all Hathaway's idea," Jonathan drawled, emerging out of the galley carrying his signature tumbler of Grey Goose. It was then Adam realized he was also dressed similarly to himself. "He put all this together." He indicated the group of them with his glass before taking a sip. "Three planes with three identical sets of one Adam Steel and Abigail Madison Lane on their passenger manifests, are gassed up, and ready to takeoff to three separate locations. Not an easy feat to accomplish by the way."

"I'm afraid to ask," Adam grumbled, his gaze flying to the waitress from the club. She gave him a little wave from her seat, fluffing up her wig of hair resembling Abigail's mahogany tresses.

"Let's just say, if you are ever asked to donate a kidney, you had better pony-up."

"And you are supposed to be me as well I take it," he finally said, narrowing his eyes back at his brother.

"Trust me, I'm not overly thrilled by the idea either." He pulled a disgusted face, before taking another swig of his drink, and then setting it on the side table. "But, we all have to make sacrifices. This way, if Swanson tries to follow by hacking into the FAA systems, he'll have a hard time trying to track all three of you." A slow grin spread across his face. "Plus, each flight will be taking a...shall we say...the scenic route to each destination."

Adam loathed when Jonathan used words like that. It usually was a gross understatement of what was about to happen.

"Just tell me where we are going to end up," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. A headache was quickly beginning to bloom in the back of his skull.

"You are going to Stonebach. Jo Jo and Steph have graciously agreed to stay in the Palazzo suite at the Rio in Las Vegas, while myself and my traveling companion will be heading to check on mom."

"Wait...wait...," Abigail stepped up between them, seemingly to have found her voice after the initial shock wore off. "You all are going to be pretending to be us?" She looked at the group with disbelief. "Are you nuts!"

"Well...none of us are overly eager, I assure you," Jonathan said, arching his brow at her. "My companion is doing it under an exuberant amount of protest which is not only costing me possibly a condo, but should also make this trip utterly miserable." The sarcasm of his tone filled the cabin.

"Jillian?" Adam asked with awe, his own incredulity matching Abigail's.

Jonathan didn't answer him, only rolled his eyes slightly, and turned to grab his drink.

"You can't do this!" Abigail whirled around to face him, her eyes wide with panic. "Tell them they can't!"

"Baby girl, we are all aware of what we are doing, and volunteered," Jo Jo said, stepping in. "Besides, did you hear the man? I'm going to be spending at least a week in the Palazzo acting the part of the billionaire playboy. It was a no brainer decision."

"Yeah!" Steph chirped in from the couch. "I haven't had a vacation in...well...shit...never. I'm going to enjoy every second of it." She raised a glass of Champaign. "Too much more of this, and Mr. Steele over their might even get lucky tonight," she added, giggling.

"I can assure you that would never happen."

"She was talking to me, Poppy."

"Nobody is getting lucky because nobody is doing this!" Abigail hissed.

"Oh come on, Abby. Stop being such a drama queen. You have to admit, this is like something out of the movies. Remember that one we watched over the summer with the kid and the bad case of acne?"

"That wasn't acne you twit," Steph scoffed. "It was a scar."

"Same thing," Jo Jo snorted, waving his hand dismissively in the air, before dropping it to check his cuticles.

"How is that remotely the same thing? It was a scar not a break out of zits."

"I don't care!" Abigail loudly interrupted, her exasperation clear. Grabbing Jo Jo by the lapels, she shook him hard. "This is real life. This is not a movie, and you are not a wizard. You could die, Jo Jo. Don't you understand how serious this is?"

"I beg your pardon," he sniffed, brushing her hands off of Adam's jacket. "Did you see what I managed to accomplish?" With a flamboyant wave of his hand that made Adam cringe, he encompassed himself and Steph. "Gurl, it takes more than a wizard to pull this off in the amount of time I had."

"Abigail," Adam broke in, snatching her attention. "Nothing is going to happen to any of them. They will all be completely safe." He chanced a look at his brother, who nodded his head in agreement.

"He's right. As we speak there's a team en route to our locations. They will secure the landing site of each jet, and all parties will have their own security teams." Digging into his suit jacket, he pulled out two plain looking cell phones. "Here. These are burner phones. Completely untraceable. You can keep in contact with anyone of us through these. I don't suppose I need to remind you, but you need to keep your personal phones shut off so they don't go pinging off towers and giving away your locations."

"This is insane," Abigail mumbled, accepting the phone Jonathan shoved at her with a trembling hand.

"Don't worry," Steph said, coming up beside her. Placing an arm around her waist, she gave her a little squeeze. "Everything is going to be just fine, you'll see. Come sit down, I'll get you a cup of tea." With a little encouraging, she escorted a protesting Abigail down the aisle, and settled her into a seat.

"Women," Jo Jo snorted, good-naturally jabbing an elbow into Adam's side before heading off after them.

"You had to give him another one of my suits," Adam groused to his brother.

"Hathaway insisted we keep everything as authentic as possible."

"Then you should have told him to lay off the fucking eyeliner."

Author's Note:

In case you hadn't noticed, I'm back! LOL! I had a simply fun, busy, but festive holiday, and I hope you all did as well. But...with all good things...it came to and end, and now I am back trying to play catchup with my writing. I had so many thoughts and ideas for this chapter, and I had so much fun piecing it together. That last line...it still kills me. I can just picture Jo Jo trying to pull off Adam's persona, but not able to forgo ALL of his makeup. LOL!

I hope you enjoyed this latest installment of Bending Steele, and if you liked it, you will consider giving it a vote. I love hearing from you and comments are always appreciated. I may not have the time to respond to them like I once did, but please know they are very dear to my heart and are not being ignored. If you have any questions, please feel free to shoot me a PM.

If you don't see any updates here, feel free to check out my other stories When Roses Collide, Steal You Away and FANGED.

As always, thank you for reading!

Sincerely,

K