A career in acting definitely wasn’t for him.
Phoning Alex was not on her list of solutions; she couldn’t bother him yet again and she was fed up of being saved. Pushing her shoulders back, she mustered as much attitude as she could given the clutches and did a one-eighty, heading towards the man who was following her.
“What do you want?” she said as soon as she was close enough. The road wasn’t quiet and she was directly opposite where Scott lived, and he was at home, so if she needed help – which she wouldn't because crutches were a legitimate weapon – she could yell.
Eyes looked into hers, ones she recognised.
“You really do look like each other.” He dropped the arm with his phone in. “She knows I’ve come to try to speak to you.”
There was no question whoshewas. Abby leaned on her crutches to stop herself from crumpling to the ground. “How is she?”
“She’s really really good, just pissed off because we’re hiding. She’s done her first year and a half at Leeds uni…”
“She was at uni before you… you took her.”
He laughed and she wanted to leather him there and then with her crutch.
“I didn’t take her. She wanted to come.”
“So why didn’t she tell me?”
“Because it would’ve put you at risk, Millie.”
“It’s Abby now.”
Kenny nodded. “Abby. Sorry. She was gutted when you stopped doing your blog. She cried for a week. Your sister can cry.”
Abby had no idea what to say. “So she’s okay? She’s not dead?”
He laughed again. It was a nice laugh. Warm. “Grumpy.” There was a pause. “She’s pregnant.”
A sob left her throat and echoed down the road.
“Please don’t cry. I have no idea what to do with crying women. Even living with Til for two years hasn’t taught me what to say. Don’t fucking cry. Please.”
She shook her head and tried to choke it back. “I thought she was dead.”
“No. No. She was well and truly alive this morning when she was yelling at me for leaving the toilet seat up. Want to see some pictures? Proof of life?”
He moved round to be next to her, holding out his phone and opening the photos. There were selfies of him and Tilly, pulling stupid faces. One of her in a large garden. Another cradling a neat bump. Then there was a scan, the image of a baby, Abby’s niece or nephew.
“Do you know the gender?”
He beamed. “No. We’ll find out when they make an appearance. I want a girl. A mini-Tilly, although they’ll probably finish me off between the pair of them. Your sister isn’t one for a calm ride.”
“She never has been.” Abby looked up at him. He was good looking and his smile was genuine. He also looked to be totally besotted with her sister. The rage at the fact he was the reason Abby had upended her life and lived without knowing if Tilly was alive or dead was dampened with the news that she was alive and having a baby. She could lose her shit later when she wasn’t in public and after she’d seen her sister.
“I learned that early on. Look…” he started to scroll through his phone. “Let me send you our address. But you need to keep it quiet. Come up and see her this afternoon – surprise her. But you can’t be followed. Take a detour and go somewhere on the way there.” His expression told her that he knew she had an idea of what was going on. “Your boyfriend, the cop, don’t get him to come with you. It’s too suspicious.” Kenny sighed. ‘I feel like shit because you’ve not had two years with your sister, but – it was a case of trying to keep you both safe. It’s all fucked up, man.”
Her phone made the noise that told her she’d received something through Bluetooth.
“Is that your address?”
He nodded. “Bring your friend if you want, but not Maynard. If you’re followed, head to a main road or motorway and come home. Send me your number.”
She pulled her phone out of her bag and sent it to him the same way. Her phone chimed again.
“Is that your number?” she looked at him.
