Miss No One, Mark Ayre [romantic love story reading .TXT] 📗

"I'll certainly try," said Abbie, smiling at Lakes, resisting the urge to say, Hello Christine.

Eleven

Kliman led Abbie back to the interview room she had earlier shared with Ndidi. Following the Christine Lakes reveal, Abbie didn't expect another big surprise for at least a few minutes.

Reaching the interview room door, Kliman knocked, turned the handle, pushed.

"Your attorney wants to go over things with you first. We'll be in soon."

Kliman turned away. Abbie entered the room and stopped as though she'd walked into an invisible wall. Behind her, someone closed the door.

On the other side of the table to the door, where Abbie had earlier sat, was a stunning woman of 23. But it wasn't the beauty or age of Abbie's attorney which caused her to stop in her tracks.

"Ariana?"

Ariana had been writing notes on a pad. Like a student. Like a beautiful student. A beautiful, dangerous, possibly psychotic student. And you could drop student from that last sentence. And  possibly.

When Abbie spoke, Ariana rose. She gave what appeared to be a rueful smile and smoothed her skirt, which was a little too short to be professional. It also didn’t need smoothing. Ariana looked uncomfortable. Abbie got the impression the young woman wished she hadn’t stood.

“I guess you don’t want to hug?” Ariana said.

“There are a few categories of people I don’t want anywhere near me, for any reason. Attempted rapists and people who tried to kill me are high up the list. You happen to fall into both categories."

“And I suppose,” said Ana, “you’re not going to say one cancels out the other? You’re not raising your arms, so I guess a hug really is off the table?”

“Get out,” said Abbie. “I don’t want you here.”

Ana raised a hand and rubbed her thumb along her bottom lip. A nervous tic, like biting one's nails. When she pulled her hand away, she gestured towards the table, the seats.

“We should sit, talk this out.”

“Nothing to talk about,” said Abbie. “I’ve made myself clear.”

Ignoring this, Ana pushed her chair back a little. “I’m going to sit.”

“Then I’m leaving.”

Abbie turned and made for the door. Behind her, Ana’s chair scraped along the floor as the beautiful psychopath pulled into the table.

“I feel sick about what I did.”

At the door, her hand half raised to knock, to ask to be released, Abbie paused. Ana’s words seemed to creep over her shoulders and sneak into her heart. There was something strange in the sound of them. Something Abbie at first couldn’t place because it didn’t fit the picture of what Abbie knew about Ana.

Was that contrition? Guilt? Regret? Abbie struggled to believe Ana could experience any of these emotions.

Despite herself, Abbie turned back to the woman at the table.

As though Ana was a vampire and Abbie the rising sun, the younger woman raised her hands to cover her face as Ana turned.

“No,” she said. “I can’t do this if you’re looking at me.”

“Your actions might have destroyed a teenage boy’s life. That you can joke says it all.”

Ana dropped her hands to the table. There was no smile on her face and only regret in her eyes.

“Fine,” she said. “You got me, I struggle with emotion, and I'm not a good person. In fact, I’m a foul bitch.”

“Something we agree on.”

Ana waved this way. “On more things than one. What I almost did to Jacob was disgusting, disgraceful. I thought making him sexually service my boyfriend would cause no more than slight humiliation. I never comprehended the long term damage I might inflict. In the aftermath of my little sister’s murder, I wasn't thinking straight. Often, I wasn’t thinking at all. I’ll never forgive myself for what I almost did to Jacob, and there are no excuses.”

“You’re right,” said Abbie. “My sister was also murdered. I understand the pain. The need to sexually abuse teenagers, not so much.”

“One teenager.”

“I’m out of here.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Abbie stopped at Ana’s words, pausing near the door. “I'll never make up for what I did to Jacob. Trying to murder you was also, you know, not okay.”

“As bad as that?”

“Fine, it was a shitty thing to do. I agree, but maybe something good came of it.”

“You accidentally stabbed your boyfriend. And he drowned. And died.”

“Okay, so I don’t feel great about that.”

“Stop it,” said Abbie, her voice dry as concrete, “you’re too hard on yourself.”

“No, but look, he was an arsehole. A sadist. He used to beat the crap out of people for fun. He was a thief and a drug dealer, and he refused point-blank to watch soap operas with me.”

“I don’t even want to know which of those you think is the worst,” said Abbie.

“No, I guess you don’t, and it isn’t the point. The truth is I’ve never been a good person, but I allowed the death of my little sister to turn me into a monster. What I tried to do to you and Jacob was unacceptable. But when I fell off mum’s balcony, and when my boyfriend clutched onto my top and dragged me deeper and deeper into the sea, I was 100% sure I was going to die.”

Ana shuddered, and Abbie felt a tremor race along her own spine. Because they had both experienced something similar that night. Abbie’s boyfriend hadn’t dragged her over the edge, but she had also plummeted from the balcony into the sea. Like Anna, she had felt the drag of the water as she sunk deeper and deeper. The tide had shoved her into the rocks, stealing her strength.

Trapped in the dark and the quiet, Abbie had feared she would never again take a breath of air. There could be few more frightening experiences than that.

“When I broke the surface,” said Ana. “When I took that first gulp of air, it was like a resurrection. I was like—"

"Don't say Jesus."

Ana stopped herself.

“Fair enough,” she said. “Not the best comparison, I get that. All I'm saying is the near-death experience gave me perspective. It showed me what I’d become and