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

Ana," said Alice, snatching the bag Ariana had collected with Ollie. "It's my birthday, and you'll grant me this wish. Say goodbye to your sister."

Drying her eyes, Alice looked at Abbie.

"We'll go for option three. Then, at last, I think it'll be over."

Abbie nodded.

Alice took a final glance at her daughter, let the tears come freely, and fled the room.

Thirty-Six

Abbie sat on the bonnet of Gray's car, her head tilted to the sky, her eyes closed. She enjoyed the cool breeze that whipped across her skin and the silence of the night. After each mission, there was always a period of silence, and it was always pleasant.

The clock struck midnight. Day two was over. Alice had survived, and Abbie had succeeded. Abbie wished she could find a reason to smile, but for her, as always, joy was as fictional as the unicorn. Once again, she would have to search for contentment and settle for that.

In her hands were her phones. As yet, she hadn’t rung Ben. Until Alice said it was okay, she wouldn't. There was no rush. Despite the gun going off at the back of Alice's house, no police had arrived. It seemed no one had heard.

Abbie sat on the bonnet for a long time but never grew bored. She was in no rush to get to the final conversation.

But there was no avoiding it. At last, the front door opened. Abbie kept her head tilted to the sky as footsteps approached. Did not let her gaze fall to Earth until the bonnet compressed as one became two.

"All sorted?" Abbie asked, looking down and meeting Alice's eye.

"Tony will be fine. I removed the bullet, disinfected the wound, and patched him up. He'll be on painkillers for a while, but he'll survive. So long as we're careful, he shouldn't lose any mobility in the arm, either."

"That's good."

Alice nodded. "I've given Ariana painkillers and disinfected numerous wounds. I've stitched her up, bandaged her up, and given her about seventeen ice packs. Eventually, she’ll heal, but she'll be stiff and in lots of pain when she wakes tomorrow, and I expect her to struggle to get out of bed for several days."

"That might not be the worst thing."

"My thoughts exactly," said Alice. "I know what she did was terrible. I understand that. But she’s young. Everything she’s suffered has caused damage to her soul, but not irreversible damage. I have to believe I can get through to her. She cannot end up like Angel."

"They're not the same person," said Abbie. "I think you can get through to her. I wouldn't have said this for Angel, but I honestly believe that Ariana's redeemable despite everything she's done. But you know what the first step towards that redemption is?"

"She has to feel guilt over what she did to Jacob."

"Exactly. If Ariana refuses to understand and appreciate the pain she caused, you’ll struggle to rehabilitate her soul. But I don’t think she will. I think in the aftermath of these past two days, the truth of what she almost did will come home to her, and it’ll hurt. As it should.”

"I think you’re right. I hope you are.”

Alice trailed off, looked at the houses opposite. Those poor people from whom Morris had stolen a beautiful view of the cliffs and the sea.

"Angel's dead," Alice said at last.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Alice looked at Abbie, her expression suggesting she did not believe Abbie could mean these words. But Abbie did. Her feelings towards Angel were irrelevant when it came to feeling sorry for Alice's loss.

From Abbie's expression, Alice must have drawn the same conclusion.

"Thank you. When Angel passed, Ollie and I were holding her hands. Tony, Ariana and Alex were all there. We all got to say our goodbyes."

"You did the right thing," said Abbie, "making them stay with her. Especially Ollie. No matter what Angel did, he'd never have forgiven himself for walking away."

"I agree. The question is, how will I process this going forward? Every day, I think of Aurora. From now on, when I do, I'll remember it was Angel who cut open my sweet youngest child's throat, and I will despise her for that. But I'll also remember her as my daughter, and I'll miss her. How can those two feelings exist side by side?"

"More easily than you could imagine," said Abbie. "Believe me."

Alice considered this point but asked no follow up questions. By now, the sixty-year-old had gone through the physical injuries and the deceased. There was more to discuss.

"The man you killed in the en-suite was the first," said Alice.

Abbie didn't need to ask what she meant by 'the first'. Pedro had probably taunted Alex, letting her know—before Scumbag took her upstairs and tied her to a bed—he would give each of his men the chance to use her as they wished. As it turned out, only Scumbag’s wishes came true before Abbie arrived to ruin the party.

"She hasn't told me what he did, but she's hurting inside. We know from first-hand experience what that pain’s like," said Alice.

Abbie nodded, said nothing.

"I'll be open with her about Angel and Adam’s father. I hope I can help her work through what happened, but I'll hire external help if that's what's needed."

"I think that's the right way to go," said Abbie.

That left one person to discuss. Alice clearly wasn't ready to go there yet because she turned to Abbie and said, "What about you? I tried to persuade you life was empty without family. After today, seeing my brood must have reaffirmed your belief that you're better off alone."

"You would think," said Abbie. "But not so. I still can't get it out of my head; everything you said. This will sound pretentious or like a depressed poet or something, but I'm drowning in loneliness. I spend all these days or weeks sitting around, reading, working out, doing anything to take my mind off the sheer boredom, waiting until I'm called to my next mission. I always think, once I'm out there, it'll