Page 23 of Abyss

It’s quiet inside the subway car tonight, with only a handful of tired commuters, giving me a chance to get my thoughts straight.

There’s a medley of emotions floating around inside my brain, each one outweighing the next—hesitation, unease, excitement . . .

Desire.

It’s that last one that has me the most worried, because it has me fantasizing about things I have absolutely no business doing. Like waking up in the same apartment as Hudson Case, or making breakfast together . . .

And then eating it with him in bed.

The thought is so ridiculous, I find my reflection smiling back at me through the glass before my nose wrinkles.

Like he said, it would just be a mutually beneficial,temporaryliving situation. And of course that’s what it would be,ifI decided to take it.

What the hell were my thoughts doing having gone in that direction, anyway? He might be insane—evident by the fact that he actually came up with the idea—but I’m definitely not.

The elevator doors had pinched shut with his last request, and that damn plea in his eyes, hanging in the air between us. It had kept me rooted to my spot, wondering if I’d imagined the entire exchange well after the elevator ascended with him in it.

Because that had to be the only explanation, right?

Moody, broody bosses, who practically snarled every time they saw you, didn’t go around offering pay raises and asking you to move in with them. It simply didn’t happen.

But it had . . .

And I wasn’t any farther along in my consideration of whether I was going to take it.

I mean, how would it even work? The man couldn’t tolerate me, not that I was much of a fan of him, either. But how could we live together? And what about Madison? What would she think if she found out?

But the money . . .

A paycheck like that, even for a little while, was unfathomable to me.

At least for a little bit, it would be life-changing for my family. At least for a little bit, we could feel like we weren’t all working a million jobs between us, trying to keep the lights on. At least for a little bit, we could all breathe easy.

But did I need the doubled salary for the same workifI was going to live with him? It seems excessive and unnecessary . . .

And what about the promises I’d made to myself—to him—after everything? What about all that talk about not letting someone make me feel shitty ever again?

Was Hudson’s offer worth testing my self-preservation all over again?

As if my mother can tell I need a reprieve from my thoughts, my phone rings inside my purse and I see her name flash on the screen. Except, her words, her voice, higher-pitched than usual, are laced with thick static on the other end when I pick up.

“Mom?” I bring the phone up to my face, making sure I haven’t lost the call. It wouldn’t be surprising since we’re going through an underground tunnel. I press a finger to my other ear, hoping to silence the cacophony of the subway. “You there?”

Her words come out fragmented. “Neil . . . we’re at the . . . taking him into—”

The call ends abruptly, leaving me with a sense of unease and foreboding. It’s not common for Mom to call around this time, but maybe she felt the need to tell me something. But what?

I raise my phone, looking for a signal that’s not there before sending a text to my mom, telling her I couldn’t hear her. While waiting for a response, I remind myself that I’m likely getting worked up over nothing.

The subway comes back above ground, and I call my mom’s phone, not getting an answer, before trying Neil’s. She said something about taking him somewhere. But when he doesn’t answer, I decide to just wait to talk to them when I get home.

Except, an hour later, instead of the coziness of Mom’s living room, I find myself in an uncomfortable chair inside an emergency room waiting area with my arm around my mother’s shoulders while she prays for my brother.

Unknown Number

How is your brother?

My phone vibrateson the countertop just as I’m putting my second contact lens in its case. I squint, trying to read the name on the screen, but quit trying after a few unsuccessful seconds to secure my hair into a ponytail using the black rubber band around my wrist.

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