Save Her by Abigail Osborne (i can read books .txt) 📕

Save Her

Abigail Osborne

Copyright © 2021 Abigail Osborne

The right of Abigail Osborne to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance to the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

First published in 2021 by Bloodhound Books.

Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publisher or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

www.bloodhoundbooks.com

Print ISBN 978-1-913942-49-6

Contents

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Also by Abigail Osborne

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Acknowledgements

A note from the publisher

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Also by Abigail Osborne

The Puppet Master

For Elle – my reset button, my best friend

1

Had her mother-in-law not been a cold, manipulative bitch from the first day she met her, Flora was sure she would have been distraught to be responsible for putting her in the hospital. As it was, she could not deny that the only reason she felt guilty was because of the anguish it was causing her husband.

The waiting room was crammed full of people perched on clinical plastic blue chairs. The collective fear of the anxious relatives was palpable and it engulfed her like a thick fog. Her eyes followed her husband as he paced up and down like a metronome. The squeak of his shoes on the linoleum echoed around the room each time he turned, but he was oblivious to it. Lines had appeared on his face that had not been there before tonight. Flora’s heart ached for him. At least when her parents had died it had been quick. There was no agonising wait in a room full of posters warning about the risks of smoking and spotting the signs of cancer.

Flora was ashamed to admit that it had crossed her mind that if Cecelia died her life would change for the better. She banished this thought to the dark recesses of her mind. Usually mild-mannered and warm-hearted, Flora was devastated that she was now capable of such thoughts. That she had developed such a capacity for hate was as a direct result of the war that Cecelia had waged upon her since their first encounter.

It was laughable that Flora had ever thought that Cecelia Cavendish, the matriarch of the million-pound ancestral legacy Cavendish & Sons, was going to willingly welcome an orphan with no social standing into the family. But having lost her parents in a car accident at fourteen, the thought of belonging to a family had been seductive. Hearing Sam wax lyrical about his family had caused the embers of hope to burn. She had even harboured the possibility that she may find a surrogate mother and father figure. Visions of shopping trips, afternoon tea and family dinners had played like a cinema reel in her mind. It hadn’t helped that Sam had shared in her naïveté. His certainty that his family would accept her and welcome her with open arms prevented her from considering the alternative. The reality.

‘Sam, honey, come and sit down.’ It was a request she regretted immediately as soon as he sat down and his knee began to bounce up and down, shaking not only her seat but the whole row of connected seats. Sending an apologetic glance to the couple sat next to her she wrapped both her hands around his, attempting to calm him. Her two small pale hands were not even close to covering his one large hand. Her gentle giant. To the world, Sam looked like a force to be reckoned with. Intimidatingly tall with perfect blond hair, he looked like he’d stepped off Dragon’s Den. His ocean-blue eyes were never seen without a twinkle. He exuded the easy confidence that came from being born into money and status. But Flora knew that he was so much more than that. He was a man who loved to play Pokémon Go, cried at Love Actually and who loved to walk around in her fluffy pink dressing gown.

‘She’s going to be okay.’

But he ignored her empty words. He stared at the door to the room with such intensity she was surprised it did not burst into flames. She willed the doctor to come through, give them the news they needed so she could get out of this place.

The worst day of her life had ended in a hospital. She tried to ignore the memories, but the sickly smell of disinfectant seeped into her skin like a poison. She dared not breathe through her nose because she knew the memories would overwhelm her if she did.

Sam placed his head in his hands, sighing loudly. She reached out and rubbed his back consumed by guilt and a sense of helplessness. Her husband was a good man. Which was why he had yet to acknowledge the elephant in the room. The fact that it was her fault that his mother was