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Her voice raised as she said, "Why didn't you show up, may I ask?"
Chris hated the fact that Giselle was in his room where this argument was all too audible.
"If you would give me a moment," he said softly, "I'll tell you what happened last night. Giselle was—"
"Of course!" She laughed without humor. "It's always your precious Giselle. The damsel in distress. Always needing to be rescued!"
"Abby—"
"Don't Abby me!" She pointed her finger at him with a snap. "Don't you have an ounce of self-respect? Doesn't she? She has a boyfriend, right? Don't tell me she wantsyouas well. What a whore!"
He stayed silent, talking himself out of the urge to grab her throat. He wasn't a violent man. No amount of disrespect could provoke him enough to act, for he believed in killing with silence. But disrespecting Giselle in front of him was a dangerous move.
He was unable to see any other color except red if she was hurt. He didn't possess the patience to distinguish between right and wrong when it came to protecting her. If it was morally wrong to hurt someone on her behalf, he didn't care for a single split second. If it made him a bad person, then he was.
But he calmed himself. He was the reason Abby was angry, and the least he could do was endure.
The door to his room creaked, and both of them turned toward it. Giselle peaked from behind the door, which he thought was a very wrong move because now Abby could see her in his shirt.
With gaped mouth, Abby whirled at Chris who raised his arms in surrender, silently pleading for her to let him explain. He didn't really care about himself. Giselle, however, was found in a compromising position, and he didn't want Abby to spread rumors about her throughout their community. As separated as they were from the town they lived in and as modern as their city was, rumors could destroy a person's standing in Nicoladafus.
"Abby—"
"Did you cheat on me?"
He sighed. "No, I wouldn't do that."
"Are you being serious? She's wearing your shirt! What? Did you tear her clothes off?"
"No, Abby," said Giselle, stepping out. "It's nothing like that."
Abby looked at her in disgust. "You should keep your filthy mouth shut. I wonder the places it's been."
"Abigail!" Chris warned.
She laughed in his face. "You think you can scare me with your voice? Why, because you're a man and I'm a woman? You think you can intimidate me with your misogyny?"
"Abby," Giselle called her softly. "We found out last night about the gang that killed my father, and I couldn't—"
She rolled her eyes, raising a hand to quiet her. "I've also lost my mother, but I've never used her as an excuse to cover up my dirty secrets. Honestly, he's died only recently, Giselle. Have some respect."
He watched as Giselle's chin wobbled.
There was a moment of all black, and before he knew what had happened, he found Abby pressed against the wall, his hand on her throat as he choked her. Her hands were on his chest, pushing him away. Giselle had grabbed his arm, trying to pull him back, screaming for him to stop.
He left her instantly, horrified at his loss of control, realizing that he'd blacked out, and shocked at what he'd become.
Staring at Abby who gasped for air, guilt and regret drenched him from head to toe. And he realized how far gone he was. Giselle's love and her rejections had finally broken him.
"I'm s-sorry... I..."
Abby glanced at him in horror after gaining her breath, then ran out of the house without another word.
"What was that?" yelled Giselle.
He turned to her, his eyes burning, and grabbed her arms. He'd had enough. "You've broken me, Giselle!"
"Me? What have I done?"
