Deep Water Mark Ayre (inspirational books for students txt) 📖

respond to Abbie’s entrance. At least until it was too late.

Crossing from the stairs, Abbie stopped outside the door behind which Louis sounded as though he was very much enjoying himself. She could tell it opened at the far right of the room, and the bed was almost certainly on the opposite wall to the door because of where the window had to be. That meant Abbie needed to open the door, step in, and sweep her gun in an arc until she found a head at which to aim.

Easy. In theory.

As the moaning intensified, Abbie put her shoulder to the door, holding her gun in one hand and the handle in the other.

The door had no keyhole. If, when Abbie tried to burst in, she learned there was a bolt on the door's other side, the result would be embarrassment and a quick rethink. Otherwise, Abbie should be able to step straight in.

Again the man's moans intensified. Tony lay a hand on Abbie's arm. His eyes said, shouldn't we wait for them to finish?

With a silent sigh, Abbie shook off Tony's grip, turned the handle, and pushed.

The door swung open.

Abbie stepped inside, gun raised.

The moans stopped. Someone said, "Oh, shit."

Opposite the door was a wardrobe. From the dark wood furniture piece, Abbie brought her gun in an arc along the wall, over a dark carpet onto a bed covered in psychedelic sheets and in which lay a startled man.

"Shit," the man said again. "Don’t—“

He kicked. From beneath the covers came a scream as both screamer and duvet rolled off the bed and crashed to the floor.

By now, Abbie had the gun trained on the man's head.

"Louis, I presume?"

All credit to the man. Abbie's appearance had been a shock, but he was regaining his composure even as his lover tumbled off the bed. By the time Abbie asked her question, he was sitting up, naked, legs spread, his pride and joy standing to attention as though desperate to be involved in the conversation.

"That's me," he said. "And you are?"

"Uninterested in your penis. Cover it up, will you?"

Louis smiled. "Not embarrassing you, am I?"

"Of course not. It's just, at present, I don't know which head to aim at."

Louis laughed. At the side of the bed, his lady friend was still trying to extract himself from the covers. Louis leaned the other way, towards his jeans.

"I don't think so," said Abbie. "Back on the bed."

Louis sighed. "I thought you wanted—“

"There's a perfectly good pillow next to you."

"I can't use that."

"Please, it's not that big."

"No, I mean these sheets were expensive."

"Then you probably shouldn't have been entertaining on them," said Abbie. "By the way, I was told you didn't bring women back here. Was I misinformed?"

Louis didn't answer that question. Understandably, he had one of his own.

"Why are you here?"

“To talk about my sister," said Tony, entering the room as Louis' lover disentangled herself from the sheets and stood.

"I guess you mean Aurora?" said Louis.

Tony didn't answer. He was staring at the naked woman across the room. Abbie shook her head.

"Tony, I think you're probably making the nice lady uncomfortable. Can you focus, please?"

Tony didn't. He was shaking his head. Tears in his eyes, he stepped back.

"Oh, come on, Tony, no one's that beautiful."

"I'm sorry," said the woman.

"Although," said Abbie. "You are stunning. You look familiar too. Hey, you know who you look like?"

"Alex," said Tony. "How could you?"

"Tony and his sisters," said Abbie. "And that'll be why."

Tony fled the room. Abbie watched Alex throw on a dress and bolt out after her brother. She left her underwear strewn on the floor.

"Well," said Abbie. "That was unexpected."

Thirteen

Keeping her gun trained on Louis' head, Abbie crossed the room to an armchair in the opposite corner. It looked comfortable and felt better. Dropping onto the cushion, Abbie groaned. Relaxation was immediate and so disarming Abbie almost let her gun slip to the carpet.

"Damn," she said. "I didn't come here to rob you, but I might have to steal this chair. Where did you get it? This level of comfort cannot be legal."

Not wishing to entertain any chair theft talk, Louis said, "Shouldn't you go after your boyfriend. He seemed pretty upset."

"Not my boyfriend," said Abbie, "and not supposed to be here. Us finding his sister in your bed has actually done me a big favour. Got you all to myself. Isn't that exciting?"

"I feel sick with glee."

"Understandable, but you might want to hold it in. I have it on good authority you're sitting on expensive bedding."

"I'll work on that," said Louis, "while you explain who you are and what you're doing in my house."

Abbie admired his ability to speak with continued confidence and authority, even with a gun pointing at his head.

"I'm on an aggressive friend-making campaign," Abbie said. She glanced at the gun. "A very aggressive campaign, as you can see. Louis, I want to be your friend."

"What kind of friend?"

"Oh, Lou," said Abbie. "I hope you're not implying what I think you're implying."

"And what would that be?"

Ignoring the question, Abbie said, "I mean platonic friends. People seem to find me cold, unapproachable. I don't know why."

"Maybe it's the gun?"

"Maybe it is. Certainly, when I took my AK47 into church, no one wanted to sit with me. And they're supposed to be the welcoming sort."

"It's a disgrace," said Louis. "Do you mind if I get dressed? I'm feeling a little exposed."

"I'm sure you are, but I'd like you to stay put."

"Like the view, huh?"

Abbie chuckled. Louis was short and stocky. His head, torso, arms, and legs were all infested with dark, curly hair. His nose was squashed; his smile nothing short of sinister. In other words, he wasn't her type.

"I can remove the pillow if you'd like?" he said.

"Please do. I need something to distract me from your toes. Why are they such funny shapes?"

Louis looked, wiggled them. It was repulsive.

"Please don't do that," Abbie said.

"Hurtful. Can I at least cover myself with the duvet?"

Abbie glanced at the lump beside the bed from which