52 - "Promise me you won't do anything stupid."

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Make sure you've read chapter 51 first xx

"Where did you even find this?"

It had kept me awake last night. The need to know the truth. I'd texted Abby earlier, asking if we could meet at New River café.

She stares down at the ring I've produced. It sits idly on the table; the gold glinting from the fluorescent lighting. She reaches out to touch it, but her hands stop midair, shaking.

"In—in Tom's car," I whisper, tentatively.

When she looks back up at me, it only confirms my suspicions. Not only is this her grandmother's ring, but Tom is her attacker.

"Abby," I shake my head, my eyes falling shut on their own accord. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," she brushes a stray tear from her cheek, picking up the ring. She brings it to her pointer finger, sliding is down the skin. "I'm grateful you found it. Thank you."

"I don't want you to feel pressured, but I want to go to the police," I whisper, "if you'd like to."

She looks up, apprehensively. "CeCe..."

"I won't make you," I reassure her, holding up my hands. "But just know that he deserves to be reprimanded for what he did to you."

The feeling of disgust is just as strong as the feeling of betrayal. For years, I have admired Tom. I used to think he was the grandfather I never had. Now, all I see is evil.

"Thank you," she nods. "I'll—I'll think about it."

"You shouldn't have to live your life in fear of seeing him on the daily," I remark. "He's the one who should live in fright of being fucking brought down for his actions."

She grasps my hand across the table. "You're like—like the little sister I've never had."

"It was so hard not to say anything to him in the car," I shudder, remembering the drive home. "That false innocence he upholds, it sickens me."

"It's how he—he lured me," she sniffs. "Innocence. He told me he was too old to climb his ladder and that he needed me to grab something off the top shelf in his storage room. I was naïve."

"Don't," I growl, "blame yourself. People like him are the reason we have to second-guess everything we do already. What we wear, how we act."

"That's the exact reason I shouldn't have trusted him so easily," she closes her eyes.

"How were you to know?" I dispute. "It doesn't matter whether you're rich or poor, everyone in this godforsaken town loves him. They respect him. You had every right to trust him," I shudder, knowing that it could have easily been me in Abby's position.

"What if people don't believe me, though?" she whispers, her eyes casting around the café. I look over towards the counter, watching as Cameron writes a customer's order. He barely looks up, but he offers me a small smile which I return, tightly.

He'd finally taken Teagan out on a date last night. Even made it official. Thank fuck. I'm sick of seeing those two moping over each other.

I turn back to Abby, eyeing her sternly. "They will," I say. "He had your ring in his car. He—"

"I don't think it's enough," she says, with finality. "And it's been five years. I know what the defence will say if this goes to trial. Why d'you wait so long? What stopped you from coming forward sooner?"

I want to rebut her argument, but I can't. There's a chance that when they hear her story, that they won't listen.

"I should have left the ring," I curse under my breath. "I should have gone back later to get it, wearing gloves. That way, his fingerprints would have still been all over it."

Abby squeezes my hand. "You had no way of even knowing that it was really mine. I'm just thankful you brought it back to me. I never believed I'd see it again."

"There must be something else," I urge. "Something else he has of yours. A piece of your hair or—"

"CeCe," Abby sighs. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid."

But it's too late. The seed has been planted and I'm already forming one of my riskiest plots.

"I promise," I lie.

"Why exactly did you ask for my help?"

It's dark; the moon hanging over me and Lucas as we exit his car quietly, our feet pattering against the concrete sidewalk.

"Because Ryan still won't answer his phone. Dory and Wesley have taken his side, and Cam and Tea are on another date. Which doesn't leave me with too many options."

"I'm glad to see I'm your first choice," he remarks, sarcastically. "Surprised I'm in front of Rhys, though."

I exhale. "Lucas, you know that we're over, right? Like, for real this time. He made it pretty official when he came to see me in the hospital."

"That was for your benefit," he deadpans. "If you told Rhys you wanted him, he'd jump right into your arms, Cora. You see that, don't you?"

I ignore his comment, pulling on the black gloves I'd brought with me. I throw a pair at Lucas, which he barely catches. "No more chitchat. This is serious shit."

"I can't believe I even agreed to this," he sighs. "What if I get arrested?"

"Kevin Winter is your father," I deadpan. "He's rich enough to bail out an entire country of people."

"You haven't even told me why we are breaking into Old Tom's house."

I spin around, bashing straight into him. "Can't you just accept that we have to do this? For Abby?"

"Yeah, but why—"

"I can't tell you," I whisper. "It isn't my place. But just—if you find anything that even looks like it belongs to Abby, or—or even another girl roughly her age, take it."

"Are we going to split up when we get inside?" he questions.

"Yes," I nod, walking by his side as we continue up the footpath. "Make sure your phone is on silent, but text me if you find anything."

"And he's definitely not going to be home?" he asks, apprehensively.

"He works until eleven tonight," I reassure him. "That gives us at least three hours."

"How are we even getting inside?"

"Do you usually ask this many questions?" I remark.

"When I'm about to break the fucking law, yes, CeCe, I do," he berates.

"You're forgetting that I know Tom well," I shiver. "I have specialised knowledge on where he keeps the spare key. So, technically, we aren't even breaking in."

We stop short at the small iron gate leading up towards his house. "You ready to do this?" I ask, turning to face him.

"Nope," he admits. "But I'm not about to back out. Even if my heart is about to fall out of my chest."

"Damn, I really thought someone like you would live for this kind of thing."

"Breaking the law? No, that's definitely more Rhys's style."

"Yeah," I whisper, "it definitely is."

We lapse into silence as I push open the gate. It squeaks loudly and we both cringe, looking up at the dark, empty house.

"This shit looks like something out of Monster House," Lucas whispers.

"I love that movie," I grin.

"Of course you do," he remarks, dryly.

The giant palm tree that sits in the front of Tom's garden casts shadows over the rusted drains running the length of the roof. Even with just the illumination of the moon and Lucas's torch as he switches it on, I can see how rundown this place has become. Unloved and unwanted. Something I would have never placed in a sentence regarding Tom at one point in my life. Now, anything seems to be possible.

We walk up the front steps quietly, the only sound coming from the distant waves crashing against the shore. I reach down, pushing aside the pot plant and unearthing the spare key underneath. Picking it up, I place it in the lock noticing the slight shake of my hands.

I turn it slowly, listening for the click as the door gives way and opens slowly. I turn back to Lucas. He nods, squeezes my hand once, and then walks in after me.

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