Lib Novel Page 6
But she stood her ground, looking up at me with those clear, steady eyes that had fooled me for so long. “Nathan,” she said, her voice unwavering, “I meant every word I said. Yes, I’m FBI, but I love you. I really do.”
There was something about the conviction in her voice that punched through the haze of my anger. It was the same tone she’d used when she told me she was on my side, before all this mess. I wanted to believe her, to cling to that glimmer of truth amidst the lies.
But how could I? How could I trust anything now?
“Love?” I echoed, the word tasting bitter. “You’ve got a real fucked up way of showing it.”
“Nathan, please,” she repeated, voice soft and desperate. “I love you—“
My hand found the vase of roses as if it had a mind of its own, and without a second thought, I hurled it against the floor. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the kitchen as petals and water scattered, mixing with the crimson that had already tainted the tiles.
But Abby—she didn’t even flinch.
She just crossed her arms and looked at me with those damn steady green eyes.
“Go ahead,” she said, her voice annoyingly calm. “Break everything if it makes you feel better. I’m not leaving.”
I stared at the broken vase, at the roses littering the floor, now covered in Tyler Matthews’ blood. It was nothing compared to the chaos raging inside me. My chest tightened, breath hitching, and for a moment, I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or something else.
Then it hit me like a punch to the gut—the recognition. Just like that night what felt like a lifetime ago, when I’d first realized she wasn’t an ordinary girl.
How many times had I seen her face down fear without batting an eye? The way she handled herself when guns were drawn, or when blood spilled. She was trained for this—trained by the FBI at Quantico.
It all made sense now.
Her resilience wasn’t just impressive; it was professional.
“Did you know?” I asked, the words rough as they clawed their way out. “From the start, did you know who I was? Were you sent to spy on me?”
Abby shook her head, her gaze never wavering. “No, Nathan. I didn’t know it was you. I was assigned to keep an eye on the Serpents at the cafe, that’s all. The FBI doesn’t have names…unless Tyler knew something we didn’t. In case you’ve forgotten, you’ve kept a tight leash on my communications—and even if you hadn’t I wouldn’t have told them. Because like I said, I love—“
“Is anyone else coming after us?” I demanded, the urgency tightening my voice.
“Matthews should be the only one,” she replied, a hint of assurance in her tone that somehow made me want to believe her.
With a heavy sigh, I turned away and strode to the liquor cabinet. My hands trembled slightly as I grabbed two glasses and poured whiskey into them.
It wasn’t even nine in the morning, and here I was, reaching for booze like it was a lifeline.
“What are you doing?” Abby’s voice cut through the haze in my brain. She eyed the whiskey with a raised brow.
“Trust me,” I said, pushing one of the glasses towards her. “We’ll need the liquid courage for what comes next.”
“Which is…?”
I set my glass down with a clink that seemed to echo against the walls of our precarious reality. Abby’s gaze was fixed on me, her expression unreadable. I reached for a kitchen cabinet, not allowing myself to hesitate as I pulled out the tool that demanded a different kind of courage.
“What is that?” Her voice was a whisper, but it carried the weight of dread.
“This,” I said, placing the electric saw on the counter, “is an electric saw.”
“I see that.” Her face drained of color, and I watched the realization dawn in her eyes. It was a grim acknowledgment of the lengths we’d have to go to survive this mess—of the things I would ask her to stomach. “And what do we need that for, exactly?”
I shrugged.
“Your partner’s body isn’t going to fit in the composter downstairs all in one piece. We need to make him more compact first.”
Chapter Four: Abby