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She desperately needed to unpack her overloaded brain and put all the pieces in their appropriate columns. Usually, it was her mum she’d talk things through with. There was no way Abby was going to start that conversation with Zep lurking in the kitchen. A sudden weight descended into her belly; very soon she’d not be able to speak with her mum at all. Ever.
The chair groaned as it skidded backwards over the hardwood floor.
“Darling?”
“Just need the bathroom.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at Rachel. Abby hurried to the bathroom and shut the door. She sat on the closed toilet seat and put her head between her knees, trying to steady the gulps of oxygen that were failing to reach her lungs.
How could her mother be dying? She looked rundown, not terminal. This had to be a mistake. Tears gathered in her eyes and Abby shut them tight, refusing to let them fall. She took a deep breath, then exhaled. Repeating the process until her lungs stopped burning and her hands stopped shaking.
She really needed Zep to leave–the house, the town, her life. Abby just wanted to focus on her mother. There was so much to say and do, and so little time. She swatted at the tears that seemed in never ending supply. If she could just go back a week… when everything had been perfect.
A gentle knock sounded on the bathroom door. “Darling, is everything okay?”
Abby stood, smoothing her ponytail. “All good.”
“It’s just that Scott has called a couple of times.”
Shit! She’d left her phone on the island bench. The last thing she needed was Scott turning up and discovering her mother and Zep with half their clothes missing. Abby pulled the door open.
“I’ll call him back.” She headed for the kitchen and grabbed her phone, turning on her heel.
“Don’t go out the front to phone him.” Zep was still sitting at the island bench.
Abby stiffened. “You worried I’ll dob you in?”
“I’m worried someone will take a shot at you.”
Her stomach dropped. Rachel put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide.
“Make the call in one of the bedrooms.”
Abby forced herself to walk forward. She passed her mother’s bedroom, refusing to look at the unmade bed, and shut herself into the spare room. It annoyed her that her hands were trembling. She flexed her fingers a few times to make it stop.
Scott picked up on the first ring.
“Abby! Is everything okay? Rachel?” His voice was tight.
“Everything’s fine.” She took a deep breath and tried to convince herself as well as Scott. “I was in the bathroom.”
She heard him exhale down the line.
“Any updates at the station?”
Scott had gone into work to check on Ricochet and the investigation. He also wanted to speak with his boss about taking leave.
“Nothing. Everything has gone quiet. They’re pretty sure The Devils had something to do with Kypianos’s murder, but whoever it was seems to be long gone.”
Abby held her breath, afraid she might give something away.
“I’ve taken two months leave,” he continued. “I have so much owing and I’m not working on any active investigations, so it wasn’t a problem.”
“That’s great.” She tried to feel relieved, but the thought of trying to balance her mum, Scott and Zep had her wanting to crawl into a cave and make everyone leave her alone. Not to mention work. She’d not phoned her clients or progressed their designs in days. She sat back on the bed and rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache forming.
“How’s Rachel?”
“She seems much better today.”
“She must have had a good night, then.”
