Deep Water by Mark Ayre (best big ereader TXT) 📕

called represents the company that supports what I do, financially and in other ways. They're professionals. They'll ensure no one ever discovers what we did. That we don't have to worry about explaining our actions to the police, so we can focus on explaining them to ourselves."

Tony processed this. Thought it over. Abbie hoped he wouldn't try and delve deeper into what she did and for who. Luckily, he was too grief-stricken to go there.

"Allow me to explain it to myself, you mean," he said. "Because I'm weak. Because I can't even handle killing someone in self-defence. I'm not strong like you."

"I'm not strong," said Abbie. "Experience helps you handle situations like these, but taking a life always takes an emotional toll. No matter who the person you've killed was. I like to think that continued emotional toll is a sign you're still a good person, deep down, if nowhere else. I like to think I'm a good person, but that's up for debate."

"I don't think it is. I think you’re good.”

"You don't know me," said Abbie. "Now, take off your trousers."

Abbie started for the door.

"No, wait, please."

Abbie turned back.

"Don't go. If I'm alone, what I did’ll consume me. Please, I need…"

"To be distracted?"

"Yes."

Abbie had her hand on the bathroom door. She understood how he was feeling. She also needed distracting, and not only to remove the image of Baldie's slit throat from her mind. Because of Bobby. Because of that slice of normal life she could no longer have but which continued to taunt her.

Yes, she was in desperate need of distraction.

From the handle, Abbie moved to the bolt, sliding it across, locking them in. Stepping away from the door, she kicked off her boots and picked them up.

"Annoying," she said. "I like these boots. It's always so hard to find quality replacements."

She chucked them in the bag and pointed to Tony's shoes.

"You'll want to do those before the trousers. Socks too, not because they'll stop you taking off your trousers but because people dressed only in underwear and socks look silly." She leaned over and took off her socks, chucked them in the bin bag. She was wearing a change of clothes, but who knew what she had on her skin. Better to get rid of everything and buy new clothes.

Tony leaned over. Took off his socks and shoes. Abbie took them and put them in the bag. When she turned around, he had his hand on his chinos, his fingers on the button. Abbie looked to him, bare feet on the cold floor.

"What happened outside the cave, the kiss," she said. "That was acting. I was trying to fool the people who wanted to hurt us."

"I know," said Tony, though she could see the hurt in his eyes.

Abbie removed her top, unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down. In only her underwear, she crossed the room and turned on the shower, adjusted the temperature dial. Hot but not as hot as the showers Abbie took alone. She doubted Tony could handle that kind of heat.

Returning to him, she nodded to his fingers which remained on his button. She put her hands behind her back.

"If you want this, it's on the understanding that it's distraction only. It means nothing more than that. Is that what you want?"

Tony nodded. "Yes."

"And you understand?"

"I do."

"Then take off your trousers and whatever's underneath."

Without a word, Tony did as told, his eyes remaining on Abbie as she removed her bra and knickers.

Naked, they examined each other.

"Yep," said Abbie. "That'll do the trick."

Tony's eyes said he was thinking much the same.

"Come on then," Abbie said, taking his hand, pulling him towards the shower. "Let's get you clean."

Eighteen

Afterwards, they lay in Tony's bed, side by side, staring at the ceiling. Tony had found Abbie a spare towel, and they were both wrapped up, though their free hair was soaking the pillows beneath their respective heads.

At some point during the preceding events, Abbie's phone had slipped off the bed and landed on the floor. Abbie could see it now; it's screen dark. When it had fallen, Bobby had leapt into her mind, and she had almost thrown herself from Tony but had managed to reclaim the distraction and blur her thoughts.

Afterwards, she didn't feel much better but could tell Tony did. That was the main thing. Thoughts of the murder would return to him, probably in his dreams, but Abbie figured he'd be secure for a little while. Their time in the shower and in his bed seemed to have given him clarity and perspective. Most of it was good. Not all.

"You said it was okay that I shot Blondie because he was going to kill me."

Abbie resisted the urge to groan. She knew where this was going. "Yes?"

"I wasn't thinking straight. Was barely focusing on what was going on. It's amazing I even noticed the gun, but… I heard you shout my name, and then the guy on you said something to the one I murdered. What did he say?"

Abbie said nothing. She kept her eyes on the ceiling. Bobby was trying to force his way back into her mind, to make her consider the content of his texts. She didn't answer Tony's question.

"He told the guy I shot not to kill me, didn't he?"

"Don't go down that road," said Abbie. "Trust me, it doesn't lead anywhere good."

"If I hadn't shot him, they would have killed you, right? Then probably beat me up so they could get away."

Abbie was reasonably sure she could have caught Baldie's hand and dealt with him, even if Tony hadn't shot Blondie. Of course, this was something she could never say.

"That's right," was what she told Tony.

"I saved your life by pulling the trigger?"

Abbie had to force herself to say, "Yes."

Tony fell into silence. These questions were frustrating, but they gave Abbie something on which to focus. Once more, she could push Bobby away. In the end, he would mean nothing. Everyday life wasn't for her. She would get past that.

"How did