The Bad Things (Book 5)

Chapter 12. Engagement Party

I woke up alone in my bed. When I laid down earlier, Abigail and Stormy were still in bed asleep. I didn't want to wake them. They didn't sleep much the last couple of days. I checked my phone, but there weren't any calls or texts.

Abby walked into the bedroom. "Hey, babe."

"Hey, where is Stormy?" I asked and yawned.

Abby crawled across the bed and sat next to me. "In her bedroom playing." She curled herself into my chest.

I laid back and tangled a hand in her hair. My other hand rubbed her back.

"Where is everyone?" Abby looked up at me.

"Gone. They left a few hours ago to investigate Irena's disappearance."

"Do you think that Harold caught up with her or something? She wouldn't just leave and not call you, would she?" Abigail stared at me with wild concern in her eyes.

"I don't know, bebé. If she's anything like Iris, maybe. Iris was the type to be very independent. She never asked for help, which is part of why she wound up dead. I hate saying that, but it's true. I should have pushed her harder to stay here with me. Dad's theory is the only one that makes sense."

"So, you think she ran off?"

"That's what I want to believe."

We stayed silent for a long moment after that. She kept her arms tightly around me. Abby had never held on so tightly to me before, and she didn't have to tell me the reason because I already knew. What happened in Florida scared her. Everyone, including myself, believed that I might not come back from San Francisco. Some part of me knew that I still might not survive the situation with Harold, and Abigail knew it too.

"Mom is planning an engagement party," I said, breaking the long silence.

Abigail stared at me with wide eyes, and her lips parted in shock. "Oops," she mouthed.

I laughed. "That's a super guilty expression you're wearing."

Abigail shot forward and turned to face me on her hands and knees.

I tilted my head, and my eyes fell to her chest, which I had a good view of because of her position.

"Andy, I'm sorry. She grabbed my hand. What was I supposed to do or say? I didn't want to lie to your mother and—"

"Relax, Abby. It's fine." My eyes danced with humor, and a chuckle escaped me. It wasn't like I was upset about it. I figured we would tell them together, but it didn't matter.

Abby pursed her lips. "You're not upset?"

"No."

"Your parents aren't upset?"

"What? No. Why would they be?"

Abby shrugged and sat down cross-legged in front of me. Her hands gripped tightly onto the blanket. Her knuckles turned white from her tight grip. She stared at the bed as she spoke in a low voice. "Sometimes, I'm not sure that they like me too much."

"That's ridiculous, bebé."

"No, it isn't," she argued. Her eyes flickered to mine, and she shook her head. "Maybe they think you deserve better. Stormy isn't your daughter, and they know that. Maybe they won't ever like her as much—"