Chapter Eighteen

(Only a short one...)

Jon lit a cigarette and sat back in the reclining chair. Over the past few weeks he had become a night owl again, as he’d been in the early eighties when he’d been trying to get noticed and had been using the studio in the wee small hours of the morning. He breathed the acrid smoke out and sighed. He was waiting for a call from Obie. Obie had called that morning but as Abby had been around Jon couldn’t really talk and so he was sat smoking at 2am on Christmas Eve. Abby had already gone up to bed at about 1am and he’d spend the past hour reflecting over what she had asked him a couple of days back; about who she was. From the tone of Obie’s voice Jon just knew he was about to find out.

Jon’s blackberry rang softly and he tapped it.
“’lo?”

“Jon, it’s Obie, can you talk now?” Obie sounded a little pissed off.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Jon chose to ignore the sarcasm in the older man’s voice, for once.

“I got some info on Abby and it’s, well, it’s not good.”

Jon went silent. After all his pushing Obie for information, now he was about to hear it he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Go on.” He said, steeling himself for the worst. He just knew she was married and that he was going to lose her.

“I managed to trace what happened to her after she ‘disappeared’ without a trace. She went to live with her paternal uncle and aunt and changed her name.”

Obie paused. “Listen Jon, I’m not sure delving into this girls past is really gonna help you know? “

Jon sat up straight. “Obie…”

“Jon I’m telling you, it ain’t gonna make a damn bit of difference whether you know her past or not.”

“Obie if you don’t tell me right now, I’m going to ram this phone so far up your ass you’ll be able to make internal calls.”

“Ok, but I know how you feel about her, Richie told on you, and I don’t want this to change that, ok?”

“Ok, jeez what the hell could make me change the way I feel about her? What? Did she kill someone?” Jon blew out angry air, his cigarette smouldering away to nothing in the big crystal ashtray by his side.

“Not exactly…” Obie began

“For fuck’s sake Ob, spill it..now!”

“She and her family were attacked on Christmas Eve 1986. Her father was stabbed, her mother was raped and stabbed and Abby was left for dead. I’ve got a newspaper cutting giving the details if you want to read it but I wouldn’t if I were you. It’s pretty gruesome. They were found on Christmas morning by the aunt and uncle who had turned up to spend the day. Abby was in hospital for over 2 months, broken bones, abrasions…”

Jon looked at the wall in front of him, not seeing anything but Abby’s face, smiling at him.

“Was she…?’ he couldn’t even bring himself to say it as a pure white anger spread through his body. He wanted to find this son of a bitch and rip him in pieces.

The hesitation in Obie’s voice told him all he needed to know.

“What happened…after?”

“She went to live with her aunt and uncle and they changed their last name. That’s as much as I’ve been able to find out so far. All the records are sealed and as yet I haven’t been able to access them.”

Jon thanked Obie and set the phone down on the small table next to him. He felt sick. He kept seeing Abby’s face in his minds eye, drawn back in fear and terror and he wanted to kill.

Silently he made his way out of the room and up to his bed. He slipped in beside Abby and wrapped his strong arms around her, hoping her hair would hide the tears that fell. He felt her pain and fragility and wept quietly for what had happened to her.

Abby shifted in her sleep as she felt Jon wrap his arms around her. She snuggled back into him and fell back into a deep, warm sleep, feeling safe and secure.