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“Oh my fucking god!”
“Darling–”
“No! Are you seriously going to defend him?” Abby lowered her voice, but the outrage was still present.
“Abby.” He held his hands up. “I won’t apologise for the things I’ve done, or the things I’m probably going to do. I don’t want or need yours, or anyone else’s, forgiveness. But like it or not, we’re blood and I’m going to make sure no harm comes to you.”
She slammed her hands down on the bench. “All hail the mighty protector!” Her laugh sounded crazed. “What makes you think I want your protection? I did just fine without you for twenty-nine years, you know.”
“I know.”
“I never even wondered about you.” She was on a roll now, and by the look in her eyes, she was after his blood. “Never once did I ask Mum who my father was. I never fucking cared.” She articulated every syllable.
He let her words bounce off him. He was glad she never cared. That’s the way it was supposed to be. Rachel stared into her coffee cup.
“Are you done?”
“How long are you going to be in my mother’s house?”
“I’ve got no plans to leave anytime soon.” There was no way he was leaving Rachel and Abby unprotected.
“Then I’ll go.” She sprang to her feet.
“Darling, where are you going?” Rachel stood as well.
Abby shook her head. “Demi’s.”
“Where?” Zep asked.
She looked at him, anger still blazing deep inside her. “To visit my friend.”
“No.”
“What?” Her face contorted, her mouth snarling.
Zep remained seated. “It’s too dangerous. You need to stay here or go home.”
“Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”
Rachel stepped closer to her. “Darling, please listen. These people are dangerous.”
“How much danger is there in driving five minutes to see my best friend?”
“For you,” Zep shrugged. “Probably not much. But for your friend, you could bring down a whole lot of misery on her.”
Rachel and Abby spun around as one. “They’d come after my friends?” Abby sounded as if all the wind had been knocked out of her.
“Peter Isobel wants to send a message–the bloodier the better. Best not to give him any other targets.”
Rachel slipped her hand into Abby’s. Standing side by side, they looked like lost angels. He rubbed a hand over his face and smoothed his moustache. He needed to put this new plan into action, sooner rather than later.
Chapter 20
Her head felt like it was going to explode. The diagnosis, the so-called death threats, and now Rachel and Zep were playing happy families! What alternate dimension had she stepped into? She sat, sipping her second cup of coffee. According to Zep, making coffee was about all he was good for in a kitchen. Abby was inclined to extend that to his place in the world. Except for one thing.
Her mum looked so much better this morning, almost like her normal self. Granted, she was out of hospital and in her own home and her own clothes–what little she was currently wearing. She seemed calm, at peace. Abby would almost go as far as to say happy, which was a massive leap after finding out she only had weeks to live.
Denial. That had to be it. Rachel was in denial and living in some kind of warped fantasy. It was obvious Zep had spent the night, and evidence suggested it wasn’t on the sofa. Abby grimaced. She couldn’t see the appeal.
