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“Good night.”

She closed the car door quietly. If Max was asleep, then the last thing she wanted to do was wake him. He seemed to spend every day sleeping then he was awake all night, eating her food and monopolizing her T.V.

Asshole.

She was tired, she was grumpy and she just wanted her house back. It was horrible when you dreaded going home. She never knew what sort of mood she’d find him in. Mostly, she spent all her time in her bedroom.

How long was he planning on staying? At some stage, he had to go right? That asshole would be back soon and she still didn’t know what to say. She was on edge, unable to eat. She’d barely slept these past few days.

The only thing getting her through each day was the phone calls she got every night from Kent. Had it only been two days since he’d told her that he wanted to explore things further with her? Since he’d pinned her to the front door and kissed her?

That was crazy. Sometimes it felt like she’d known him forever. He was amazing. They talked about mundane things like how their days had gone, to their desires and needs. She’d never talked about any of that stuff with anyone before.

But she was still holding something big back from him. And the guilt was eating away at her. If he found out the truth, that she’d been lying all along...

Well, he wouldn’t want anything to do with her anymore.

She was reaching for the door before her brain warned her that something was wrong. The door was open, the wood around the lock splintered.

Oh shit.

He knew as soon as he got to her place, that something was very wrong.

Yeah, the cop car sitting outside was a big fucking clue. As he pulled up outside her place, parking in behind her piece of shit car, he hoped he hadn’t made a huge mistake in waiting so long to come back.

Two days. It had been all he could give her. And he’d taken that time to set a few things in place. He’d re-organized some meetings to free himself up. He’d also done a bit of online shopping for some things that might help her feel more at ease with him. To make up for the mistakes he’d already made with her.

But none of that was important if she was hurt...

He jumped out of the truck, not even bothering to shut the door as he raced towards the house. The front door was at a strange angle and he noticed the dent in it as though someone had rammed their boot into it.

When he walked inside, he came to a stop. His heart was racing. He stared around in horror. If there was anything that hadn’t been turned over or smashed, he couldn’t immediately see it.

He heard the quiet murmur of voices coming from the living room and headed that way. Inside, he could see the couch cushions slashed, the insides pulled out.

What the fuck? The T.V. was pushed over. There was glass and shit everywhere. This wasn’t a normal robbery.

“Kent?”

He moved his gaze towards the kitchen where Abby stood next to Ed. He studied her, not going to her immediately, wanting to calm himself slightly. If she’d been here when this person had broken in... he had to swallow against the bile rising up his throat.

Fuck. Fuck.

“What are you doing here?”

She appeared unharmed. Physically, anyway. She had her arms wrapped around her waist defensively, as though hugging herself. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him, her face pale. In shock.

“Abby.” He took a step forward and she stepped back. He stilled.

Ed shot him a look, filled with curiosity and something else. “Kent, what are you doing here?”

“I came to see Abby.”

“That so?” Ed shot his gaze back to Abby. “You said there was no one you wanted me to call, Abby.”

She’d said what?

“Abby, why didn’t you call me immediately?” he asked in a low, calm voice. Much as he wanted to lecture her, he was going to have to give her a chance to explain.