Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
ABIGAIL
Iwas seconds away from taking that fucker out. He might’ve gotten the upper hand, jumping me in the alley, but I was about to right that with one of the moves my dad had taught me when the other guy showed up.
At first, I thought he was tag-teaming, that they were both going to carry on the attack, but he told me to run, and I did. Why wouldn’t I? It was a Wednesday night, and I wasn’t in the mood for a fight. I had work tomorrow.
I guess I should’ve booked the Uber I told my parents I’d got.
I hated lying to them, but I couldn’t afford it, and little white lies didn’t hurt if they were well meant.
Mine was well meant. I didn’t want to worry them.
I was a strong, independent woman who had her own apartment.
They didn’t need to know that I was drowning in a mountain of debt.
.. amongst other things. I was their baby.
I wanted to make them proud. And yes, they’d given me money for the Uber, but that money could be spent on much better things, like food.
After the balaclava guy had told me to run, I’d bolted down the alley as fast as I could and didn’t look back.
I ran across the road and down the street that led to my apartment block.
My legs moved at a ridiculously fast pace, my feet pounded the pavement, and I couldn’t stop.
I wouldn’t stop. Not until I was inside my apartment, safe.
When I got there, I unlocked the main door, ran inside and up the stairs, then headed to my apartment, unlocking my door and shutting it behind me, resting my body against the closed door and sighing before I kicked it in anger.
Fuck.
I hated that I’d let myself down like that tonight.
I hated that someone had gotten the better of me.
Always stay alert, never let your guard down... and don’t take the shortcut home, my dad had always told me. It was something I always told myself, too. I was a fucking idiot.
I put the light on, took my jacket off and hung it on the back of my door.
Then I kicked my shoes off and marched across my living room towards the door to my bedroom.
I only had a little one-bedroom apartment, but I loved that it was so neat and compact.
It was perfect for me. A little sanctuary to hide from the world. Somewhere I could be myself.
I switched the light on in my bedroom and went over to my dressing table, sitting on my stool and staring at myself in the mirror. I looked a disgrace. My hair was dishevelled, my cheeks bright red from running. I had to do better.
I pushed my stool back and climbed onto the floor.
Then I crawled under my dressing table, where an air vent was attached to the wall.
I pulled it off to reveal the space hidden in the wall behind it and slid out the box I kept in there.
Then I sat down with my legs crossed, cradling the box in my lap.
I needed to remind myself who the fuck I was.
I took the lid off and smiled when I saw the trinkets shining back at me.
Abigail fucking Walters.
That’s who I was.
And I would never forget it.