Deep Water by Mark Ayre (best free ebook reader txt) 📗

"I'm not playing this game," said Abbie.

"What game?"

"The game where you serve me questions to which you already know the answer. If you don't want to think about it, don't. If you do, do. But don't get me to lead you to information you're perfectly capable of figuring out on your own."

Tony fell into a hurt silence. Abbie closed her eyes, guilt folding around her. Abbie's frustration was not Tony's problem. He was a sweet guy; he didn't deserve what she was dishing out, especially given what he'd just been through.

"When you first said they were after us," said Tony, "I assumed they were sent by Louis. I got it in my head you were going to apologise, to tell me you were wrong and Louis was the murderer all along. I was terrified, but I kind of thought you'd deal with these guys, then we'd deal with Louis. Together. Avenge my sister."

"Well, I'm sorry," said Abbie, "but I never apologise."

She felt Tony's head shift on the bed and knew he was looking at her. Abbie kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling, refusing to meet his.

"That was on purpose, right, that joke?"

"Of course."

Tony gave a little chuckle. Then moved on.

"You knew straight away Tony hadn't sent those men, didn't you?"

"I didn't know anything," said Abbie. "I suspected."

"Strongly suspected," said Tony. "You told me to say my name. You must have been almost certain that would keep me alive. Because you knew these guys would have been told not to hurt any of Alice's children. Right?"

"The name might not have been necessary," said Abbie. "They were sent after me. They might have knocked you around a bit then checked to see who you were. But I guessed they would have been warned not to harm you or any of your siblings or your mother, yes."

"Because those men were sent by Angel?"

"I didn't find an employee-employer contact on Baldie's person to confirm," said Abbie. "But I'm working under that assumption, yes. After all, Angel did threaten to punish me for attacking Ariana. Though I have to say, I didn't expect her to act so quickly."

"She's always been like that," said Tony.

"Makes me worry even more for Jacob and Kyle. I hope Louis got to them in time."

Tony nodded and looked back at the ceiling. For a few seconds, they lay side by side, in silence. Abbie knew more questions were coming, so waited.

"Do you really think a united front will be enough to convince Angel and Ariana to stop?"

"I don't know," said Abbie. "They're your sisters, you tell me."

"It's possible," said Tony, "that Louis and Alex will convince mum he isn't guilty. Possible I'll be convinced as well. I don't think there's any chance they convince Angel and Ariana. I think those two’ll keep coming regardless of what mum says. The only way I can think of to stop them is—"

"I'm not going to try and find Aurora’s killer," Abbie cut in.

"But I think—"

"Tony, no. That isn't the play, I promise you."

Even without looking at Tony, and although he stayed silent, Abbie knew he was sulking. This was frustrating. She hated sulking and could only imagine what he would throw at her next. Before he could say any more, she tried to explain.

"I believe the greatest danger to your mother will come tomorrow. The police have investigated Aurora's murder. That they've not found the killer suggests there is little or no evidence. Like I said, I'm not an investigator. There's no reason to believe I would succeed where the cops have failed, and I certainly wouldn't be able to do so in a day. I know why you want to find Aurora's killer. Still, for now, we must focus on keeping everyone else alive rather than worrying about those we've already lost."

"I'll never stop worrying about Aurora."

Abbie looked at Tony for the first time. Only for a second, then back to the ceiling.

"Yeah," she said. "I know."

She hoped that would be the end of it. Maybe Tony hoped the same, but something dragged the words from him. A deep need to talk he hadn't known he had.

"It's like a pit in my stomach. A deep, endless, churning pit, and it never goes away. Sometimes, when I'm alone, in the dark, I can curl up and take deep breaths. These deep, long breaths and the feeling dims. But not for long, and not by much. The rest of the time, it's just there, and I can feel it from my stomach to my throat. Like aggressive, poisonous butterflies tearing me apart." He stopped, his fists clenched by his sides. There were tears in his eyes. "That probably sounds stupid."

"It doesn't."

Abbie could say no more. She felt Tony's eyes on her—burning into her—but she wasn't going to look at him.

"You said you lost your sister too."

"I did," she said. "Long time ago."

"How long?"

"Does it matter?"

She had snapped. She hadn't meant to. Tony looked away. "I guess not."

He was hurting again. Thinking of Aurora and thinking of Blondie, melding the two events. Soon he would have nightmares in which he would raise his gun as Blondie approached; he would pull the trigger and watch Blondie’s face morph into the beautiful face of his sister. As the bullet travelled in slow motion towards her eye, Tony would scream and would still be screaming as he murdered Aurora and woke in a clammy sweat.

The human mind was predictable.

"Violet, my sister, died a little over ten years ago," said Abbie. "For months afterwards, I was consumed by grief. All these years later, I still think about her every day, and it still hurts every time I do. But it has got easier. I can live my life, mostly unhampered by the darkness in my past." She looked at Tony. "So that's the message. You will move on, but it will never stop hurting. I'm afraid that's the best I can do."

They distracted each other again, then Abbie