40. Chapter Forty Nathan

Chapter Forty: Nathan

T he FBI boat sliced through the thick fog, the sound of the engine muted by the eerie silence surrounding us. Abby's father, Owen Harper, stood at the helm, his hands steady on the wheel. My mind raced with thoughts about my family, Knuckles, and the baby I had just found out about. Anger toward Owen for keeping this secret from me bubbled beneath the surface.

I'd spent the majority of the night down in the hull, checking on everyone, making sure they were safe. But my nerves were frayed, and I needed air.

More than that, I needed her .

Climbing the steps to the upper deck, I found Abby and her father talking quietly. They stopped as I cleared my throat, announcing my presence.

"Hey," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. Abby looked over at me, her eyes filled with concern, while Owen's shoulders stiffened.

"Everything okay down there?" Abby asked.

"Yeah, everyone's fine," I replied. In truth, I was far from okay. The weight of our situation pressed down on me like a vice, squeezing the life out of me. And yet, I couldn't let them see how much it affected me.

I had to be strong for Abby, for all of them.

"Good," Owen muttered, turning his attention back to the helm. Clearly things were tense between us, but I knew that now wasn't the time to hash out our differences. We had bigger problems to deal with.

I took a deep breath and moved to sit beside Abby, placing a hand on her back and rubbing gently. "Are you doing okay?" I asked, my voice strained.

"Considering everything," she replied with a weak smile. "It's all relative at this point."

"And the baby? Are you both comfortable?"

"Yep, the baby's fine," Abby reassured me, patting her belly tenderly. It still wasn’t visible at all, but every time she was in danger I worried something would happen. She’d been precious to me before—now, she was everything.

Owen's expression remained tense as he glanced over at me. "I'm glad you got out, Nathan," he said gruffly.

"Are you?" I couldn't help but ask, my eyes narrowing.

"Of course I am," Owen snapped, his grip tightening on the helm.

"Really?" I pressed, my anger rising. "Because it seems like you've been keeping secrets from me, Owen. Important ones, like my own child."

“Nathan,” Abby chastised, glaring at me. “Now isn’t the time.”

I took a deep breath, trying to rein in my emotions. She was right—we had bigger issues at hand. But that didn't mean I'd forget Owen's betrayal.

The fog swirled around us, obscuring the boat's surroundings and leaving us with just the sound of water gently lapping against its hull. I could feel the tension crackling in the air between Owen and me, as sharp and dangerous as a live wire.

"Let me ask you something, Nathan," Owen said, breaking the silence. "Do you remember the conversation we had before you got put away?"

I hesitated; memories of that time were overshadowed by my mother's death. "Not exactly," I admitted. "There was a lot going on back then."

"Right," Owen said, nodding. He paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. "We talked about Abby's safety, about what would happen if something went wrong for you." His voice was steady, but there was an underlying edge to it that I couldn't quite place.

"Sure," I said, trying to recall the specifics of that conversation. But before I could say anything else, Owen continued.

"During that conversation, we agreed that our priority was to keep Abby safe. I promised you that I would do whatever I could to get her away if something happened to you." He looked me straight in the eye, his gaze unwavering. "And when something did happen, I tried my best to keep her safe. But I failed."

I clenched my jaw, feeling the urge to argue rise in my chest. But as much as I wanted to fight back, I knew he was right. We had made that agreement, even though it seemed like a lifetime ago. And with everything that had happened since then…

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah, that makes sense," I admitted.

Abby flashed me a grateful smile, her eyes softening the tension that had been building between Owen and me. She reached over and squeezed my hand, her touch warm and reassuring.

Even in the midst of this chaos, she managed to ground me.

"Look," I said, turning to face Owen, "I know we've had our differences, but we need to work together now, more than ever. Our family's safety is all that matters."

"Agreed," Owen replied, his voice carrying the weight of our shared responsibility. "So…where to next? What's the plan?"

I rubbed a hand over my face, feeling the rough stubble that had grown since my imprisonment and being on the run. I hadn’t had a chance to shave. I probably looked like a wildman.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Any ideas?"

Abby and her dad exchanged a look, their faces betraying signs of a shared secret. Owen cleared his throat before speaking. "Abby told me about Diane Hayes being on the wrong side. We can get your family to a safehouse while everything goes down, but Abby's got a plan."

“Why does that sound like a bad thing?” I muttered.

Taking a deep breath, Abby turned to face me. "We need to take confront your father."

“I think we all agree on that front,” I said. “Unfortunately, he’ll almost definitely be barricaded into his office in Chinatown. The tunnels alone are a bitch to navigate, and security—”

“We’re not going to his office,” she replied. “We’re going to his house.”

I cocked my head, narrowed my eyes. “And how do you suggest we get him there when he’s on high alert?”

Abby bit her lip. “Well…we use me as bait.”

I had to stop.

Do a double take.

"Wait, what?" My heart hammered in my chest. "What the fuck—"

“Listen,” she said. “We call and say we want to make amends. You tell him that you want protection for your child. We go together …then we take him out together.”

“But he’ll kill you–”

“He wants me alive, Nathan,” Abby said. “He wants…he wants an heir, and I’m—”

“Even more reason not to send you in,” I said, practically snarling. “We should wait, and I’ll…I’ll lock you up again if I have to.”

Owen shot me a glare, but I ignored it. Abby, however, seemed even more pissed.

“No, we’re not waiting,” she insisted. “Your father thinks he’s won right now. He thinks he has us on the back foot, is probably expecting concessions…so we go in. But what he doesn’t know is that you’ll be there, too.”

“And his security?”

“We isolate him,” she said. “Use our allies that are left to do what they’ve been doing and light up a few of his businesses. Get security to go out all over the city while we strike. He’s comfortable right now, cocky. We can get him .”

I stared at her, unbelieving…but knowing she was right. If we didn’t do this now, he would just rally his forces once again.

It was either kill him now or leave our lives behind.

"Trust me, Nathan," Abby insisted, her expression resolute. "It's the only way to take control of this situation. For us, for our future…for Violet."

Her words struck me like a fist to the gut, the reality of what was at stake hitting home. I crossed my arms, steeling myself as I stared into the impenetrable fog ahead.

"I want you safe," I said, the desperation clear in my voice.

"None of us will be safe until all of us are safe, Nathan," Abby replied, her eyes meeting mine. “You, me, our kid…and Justin, Derek, Lily, Alex—even the damn cat. Kenny won’t stop gunning for us until he’s dead.”

I knew she was right, but the thought of putting her and our unborn child in danger tore at my heart. I clenched my fists, trying to find the strength to accept this insane plan.

But we had no other choice—we needed to end this war once and for all.

"Alright," I muttered, giving in to the plan. "Let's do it."

"Good," Abby said, a small smile appearing on her face. "We won't let you down."

Owen looked at me, his expression telling me he didn’t like this either. But he’d told me his daughter was stubborn once…and it proved to be right. "Where to, Nathan?"

"Take us to South Beach."

"South Beach it is," Owen replied, adjusting the wheel as we headed towards our destination.

Abby fixed me with an incredulous look. “South Beach?” she asked. “Your house has gotta be crawling with feds at this point—”

“Not my house,” I said. “I have a car in a garage by the harbor. We’ll take that…then we’re going back to 118 California.”

She looked at me for a long time…then she smiled.

“Where it all started, huh?”

I nodded. “And where it will end.”