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“I… no… wait,” I tried to speak but everyone was talking over me.
When I turned back towards the house I saw something that shocked me silent. Sitting at the kitchen table talking like civilized adults were Robbie, Logan, Knox… and my father. All looking attentive and concerned. That was a sight I never thought I’d see.
My mother appeared next to me, grabbing my face and squeezing so hard I thought my cheekbones would shatter. Her makeup was perfect and there wasn’t a hair out of place. “My baby, my Abby.”
I let her hug me, numbly wrapping my arms around her. But very quickly she was pulling back and adjusting her coat.
“Here,” she said when she pulled away, pushing a silver flask into my hand. “Have a little sip.”
Skeptically, I took a sip and gagged as I swallowed, the vodka burning my throat. “Jesus, mom!”
She waved a hand and rolled her eyes. “Hush and tell me what happened.”
I repeated the story for what I hoped was the last time that night. All of it felt surreal, like an out of body experience. The detachment I felt was numbing and exhaustion was quickly sinking into my bones.
At the sound of someone clearing their throat I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Dr. Van Sant?” I asked, confused. “What are you doing here?”
“I called him,” my mom said as she tucked her flask back into her purse. “I’ll leave you two to talk, okay?” she squeezed my hand and, in a gesture that was very unlike Genevieve Ashford, she tucked my hair behind my ear and said, “You know I love you, right? You’re my baby, my only girl. I love you.”
Emotion slammed into me and clogged my throat. I stood there silently as she walked into the house, laying a hand on my father’s shoulder. It was small, fleeting, but still I saw the look in her eyes as she looked around the table.
“Abby? Would you care to tell me what happened?” Dr. Van Sant asked as he tucked his hands behind his back.
I shook my head and collapsed on the stairs, talked out. Resting my head in my hands, I let out a deep sigh, not expecting it to end on a sob. The dam broke and sobs wracked my body, tears falling freely down my cheeks. I was so overwhelmed with fear and love and confusion. Fear for whatever this psycho was and what he would do next. Love for my family, for Knox, for everyone who showed up to protect me tonight. Confusion for, well, everything else, what to do next and if Caleb was truly my stalker.
“I’m so scared,” I sniffled and scrubbed my hands over my face. My chest felt too tight and it was so hard to breathe. I was sweating, shaking. It was ugly. “I feel so weak.”
I felt rather than saw Dr. Van Sant sit down next to me. He placed a hand on my back as I continued to cry. “Breathe, Abby. It’s alright, just concentrate.”
I felt like I was choking, my breaths coming in short pants. I fought for breath and squeezed my
eyes shut, trying to find something to focus on. Simone. My parents. Knox. Robbie. Logan. I repeated the words again and again, chanting them in my head like a mantra until the ache in my chest dissipated. Every second of it was excruciating and I wondered how much more I could take before I reached my breaking point.
Curling up, I rested my chin on my knee and blinked at Dr. Van Sant a few times. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here.”
He flashed a megawatt smile, his hand still rubbing up and down my back, although I really wished he would stop and give me a moment to myself. “Nonsense. I’m here for whatever you need.”
The back door squeaked and I turned around. Knox was standing there with his hands in his pockets and his head cocked to the side. God, I love him. He stepped forward and gave a gentle smile but I could see his guard was up. He was as tense as the rest of us. “Ready to go?”
“Go?”
The question came from the man to my left who seemed to make Knox’s features go all hard and edgy again. “You are?”
He stood and stuck out a hand. “Dr. Henry Van Sant, Abbigail’s therapist.”
Knox gave a firm shake, his expression not changing. “Knox Fitzgerald. I’m Abby’s boyfriend.”
My inner teenage girl was having a virtual orgasm at the mention of the word “boyfriend”. You need to get your shit together, I scolded myself. So not only was I madly in love with him but now we were officially a couple. We had a label. What the hell was up with tonight?
“Is that right?”
“That’s right.”
I stood, exhaustion weighing me down. “Where are we going?”
“Me and the guys thought that maybe it would be a good idea if you stayed with me for a bit until they catch this fucker.”
