Page 111 of Wasted
“Would you?”
“Sure. After all, that’s why you came out here, right?” He grinned.
“Yes, know-it-all.” Victoria almost wished Treese was there to give him a swat. The thought of her youngest sister brought a frown. “Did you know Treese tried to convince Sydney to have an abortion?”
He looked out the windshield again.
“You’re not surprised.”
“She’s not you, Vicki. People do have different opinions on the issue of abortion, you know.”
Victoria bit back the urge to ask what his opinion was. She’d faced enough bad news and unpleasant surprises today. She wouldn’t risk more. At least she’d secured help for Sydney. “Well, I trust you won’t try to convince Sydney to kill her child.”
He gave her a patient smile. “No, I can promise you I won’t do that. But you do know I won’t be able to tell you anything she shares with me in our session, right? She’ll be a pro bono client with all the same rights to privacy as my other clients.”
“Of course.” Victoria nodded.
“Even if she tells me the name of her child’s father.”
“I understand. But you can advise her to tell me who he is to help her break free from her dependency on him.”
Robert lifted his eyebrows. “Have you developed a devious streak?”
“Perhaps I’ve always had one.” She smiled.
“I think you’d better stop hanging out with that boyfriend of yours. Or maybe it’s being a murder suspect that’s loosened you up.”
“Oh, honestly.” She opened the passenger door with a shake of the head. “Good night, Robert.”
“Night, Vicki.”
She chuckled as she shut the passenger door and glanced both ways before starting across the street.
The cold wind flowed through her sweater, and she folded her arms to try to retain some war?—
A squeal cut through the silence.
Her head jerked toward the sound as she stopped.
Headlights beamed at her.
The roar of an engine.
“Vicki!” Robert, shouting.
A car barreled at her.
She dove for the curb.
Chapter
Thirty
Robert answered the front door instead of Victoria. Was she that badly hurt?
The thought cinched Cillian’s ribs even tighter than the crushing squeeze they’d been under since he’d read Robert’s brief text. “Where is she?”
“Living room.” Robert stepped aside and pointed up the hallway.
