2. Chapter Two Abby

Chapter Two: Abby

T he adrenaline was wearing off…and I was so close to fainting.

But no. We had gotten away. I had to pull it together, for Nathan.

The air was thick with unspoken dread; 118 California felt empty without Nathan’s leather jacket draped over the back of a chair or the sound of his soft steps on the wood floor. I couldn’t stay here, I needed to find him–

"Abby, you're bleeding." Derek’s voice cut through my haze of pain. I looked down, realized my hand was clutching my torso.

Shit .

I hadn’t even noticed, but Derek and Justin were both watching me, eyes trained on the wound I’d stitched up hours ago…the wound that just wouldn’t stop bleeding.

"Just hold on, Abby," Justin murmured. He was rifling through the first aid kit beside me on the counter, as if he would find some magic pill to fix everything. "Lily's good at this kind of stuff, she'll stitch you up in no time.”

“You called Lily?” I asked. “Justin, I told you–”

“I had to tell her,” he insisted. “Abby, you look terrible. And besides…isn’t she safer here?"

I opened my mouth to argue–I wanted to keep Lily out of this if at all possible–but choked on a cry of pain instead. The world was starting to lose focus, blurring around the edges as I felt the warmth spread across my side and seep through my top. Justin was opening up another bandage, but we were quickly running out of supplies.

"Lily will be here soon," Justin reassured me again, tearing open the packet with shaking hands. "We just need to stop the bleeding until then."

Suddenly everything seemed distant and muted, like I was sinking into a deep abyss. All I could feel was Nathan's absence filling every corner of the room.

And then the door swung open.

Not Nathan…fuck, I wished it was Nathan.

Lily’s hair was a mess, scraped into a haphazard bun, dark circles under her eyes. “I got here as fast as I could. What happened?”

“She got stabbed protecting us,” Justin told her. “I don’t…we can get into that. Just help her first.”

“This is unnecessary—fuck!” I said, clutching my side.

Lily’s eyes widened. “Seems unnecessary, yeah.”

"Sit," Justin commanded gently, hand on my elbow guiding me toward the worn couch that Nathan had shackled me to once upon a time. God, that felt like it was years and years ago. Slumping down, I tried not to wince too much. His concern was nice, but I couldn't let myself get comfortable—not yet.

"First aid kit?" Lily's voice came sharp and quick.

"On the kitchen counter," I muttered between gritted teeth, trying to keep my breathing even. My training kicked in—panic wasn’t an option, especially not when Nathan was probably sitting in a cell right now because of me.

But there'd be time for guilt later. Right now, I had to focus on the wound and the Zhou siblings looking to me for the next move. We were all pieces on a chessboard, and with Nathan gone, it was up to me to call the plays.

I just needed to make damn fucking sure I was awake and healthy enough to do it.

"I’ll grab it," Justin said, his eyes darting to his boyfriend, a silent conversation happening between them. “I think we already used up all the gauze though.”

“Shit…okay,” Lily said. “Just grab whatever you can–and find some towels, please. Grab anything that could help.”

Justin and Derek exchanged a look and took off.

"Let's see it," she murmured, her fingers deft as she moved my blood-drenched shirt up with a care that suggested she'd done this more times than any college student ever should. Justin’s cat, Bao, came over to investigate, but Lily just batted her away. Lily’s hands were steady, completely different to the rapid drumming I could feel against my ribs. My breath hitched, not from the pain, but from the cold touch of her fingers on my skin.

"Sorry," she whispered, sensing my discomfort, though whether for the chill or the situation, I couldn't be sure.

"Don't be." I managed a tight smile. "Risk of the job."

Lily gave a small huff, a ghost of a laugh–then she peered up at me. “That job being Nathan’s fiancee?”

I grimaced. “Uh…we can get into that later.”

Thankfully, Lily accepted my answer and focused on the wound. She was nineteen, but in that moment, she might as well have been a seasoned medic, her movements practiced and precise. She took the bandage I had put on it off and looked at my attempt at stitching myself up.

“I mean, this could be worse,” she said. “You did a good job. But we can do better.”

The wound was a crude reminder of the life I had chosen—or maybe the one that had chosen me. It was a sharp, burning sensation every time I dared to breathe too deeply. But then there was Lily, barely an adult, patching me up like it was just another Tuesday morning. It shouldn't have been her reality, but our world, the dark underbelly of San Francisco didn't care about should-haves.

"Looks like you've got quite the knack for this," I commented, trying to keep the atmosphere light despite the gnawing pain.

"Pre-med…plus coming from a family of gangsters," she replied curtly, never taking her eyes off the task at hand. She kept pressure on the wound as she rifled through her bag, pulling out some supplies. "Comes in handy."

"Seems like it," I agreed, gritting my teeth as she cleaned around the stab wound. Her touch was gentle, yet firm—confident and reassuring.

"Hey, Abby?" she asked suddenly, her tone shifting into something softer, almost vulnerable.

"Yeah?" I responded, bracing myself for the sting of antiseptic I knew was coming.

"Thanks…for looking out for Justin back there. He didn’t give me all the details on the phone, but he said you were a badass."

“Ah, no problem—fuck, that hurts.”

“Yeah, being stabbed will do that,” she said matter-of-factly.

I grimaced, holding back a sarcastic laugh.

"Sorry, I know it stings," she apologized, her brown eyes flicking up to meet mine for just a second before returning to my side. "But hey, if it makes you feel any better, you're not the first stab wound I've had to patch up.”

“Yay?” I replied weakly.

She laughed. “I’m just saying. Seems like you keep saving my brothers’ asses, so…”

I let out a laugh that morphed into a wince as the pain sharpened, a reminder of the reality we were in. The laughter faded quickly, leaving an edge of discomfort hanging between us.

"Alright, Abby, deep breaths for me, okay?" Lily instructed, her voice steady. It was clear she'd done this many times before, her demeanor shifting from the kid sister to the practiced hand of someone who knew the human body's responses to trauma.

"Deep breaths, got it," I echoed.

Then she started to stitch up my shoddy work.

I kept steady, focusing on the rise and fall of my chest, trying to ignore the throb pulsing through my side. Weirdly enough, it was almost less painful when I’d stitched myself up–it gave me something to do, at least.

She pressed two fingers to my wrist, counting silently. As her brow furrowed slightly in concentration, I couldn't help but notice how young she still looked, despite the clinical detachment she displayed. This life had forced her to grow up fast, to learn skills most would never need—skills that saved lives in the shadows where law and order struggled to reach.

"Your pulse is a little fast, but that's to be expected. You’re, you know, in pain. I’ll get you something for that,” she said after a moment, her tone professional. "You're going to be fine."

"Thanks to you," I managed to say with a small smile, grateful not just for her medical assistance, but for the strength and resilience she embodied. “You’re going to be a great doctor, Lily.”

"To patients, not family. Hopefully," she replied, her hands unwavering as she prepared the antiseptic. She looked up at me with those wise-beyond-her-years eyes. "I can’t exactly put this on a resume."

I chuckled at that, despite the situation. Leave it to Lily to find humor in the bleakest of moments. The chuckle was cut short when she began dabbing at the gash on my side. The sharp, sterile smell of the antiseptic filled my nostrils, and something inside me lurched violently.

"Need…bathroom," I gasped, stumbling to my feet. The sharp pain flared with the movement, but it was nothing compared to the queasiness that threatened to overwhelm me.

"Abby, wait—your stitches!" Lily called out, but her warning fell on deaf ears.

Clutching my side, I made a beeline for the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me before sinking down onto the cool tile floor. And then, it all came pouring out—the contents of my stomach, the pent-up stress, the fear—all echoed against the unforgiving acoustics of the tiny room.

"Abby?" Lily's voice was laced with concern from the other side of the door. "Are you okay in there?"

"Fine," I croaked, not even convincing myself. "Just give me a minute."

I leaned against the cold porcelain, trying to gather the shards of my shattered dignity. Fuck. Bending over hurt so much.

After a few deep breaths, I pushed myself up and staggered to the sink. The fluorescent light flickered above as I turned the tap, the cold water a brief respite as it washed over my clammy skin. I dared a glance at the mirror, meeting the gaze of a stranger with bruised eyes and pale skin.

"Who even are you?" I muttered to the battered reflection before me. My hands trembled as I splashed my face, trying to erase the signs of weakness. I swished some cold water inside my mouth, trying to get rid of the lingering bile on my tongue.

Droplets clung to my lashes as I straightened up, eyes inadvertently dropping to the diamond on my finger—a beautiful, delicate engagement ring that now felt like an anchor pulling me down into the abyss of "what ifs." The diamond caught the light, mocking me with its sparkle. I didn’t know if Nathan would be okay…and that really fucking ate at me.

I swallowed hard, the bile rising again at the thought of him hurt—or worse. But I forced the nausea down; I couldn't afford to fall apart. Not now.

With one last look at the girl in the mirror, I willed her to transform back into the woman who could handle anything. Then, fixing my hair into a messy bun and smudging away the last traces of mascara, I stepped out into the dimly lit hallway.

Justin was leaning against the wall, concern twisting his mouth into a thin line. “You okay?”

I looked at him. “Great. Never better.”

Lily laughed.

“Guess I deserved that,” Justin said.

“No, I’m fine,” I said. “I really am starting to feel better. It wasn’t too deep.”

“It wasn’t,” Lily said. “If it was, you’d be in the hospital.”

“See? I’m totally fine,” I said, making my way back to the sofa and slumping down on it.

Justin nodded. “You know," he said, "for someone who just killed three guys in our apartment, you seem awfully squeamish."

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I don’t know…just throwing up like that? You seemed pretty damn unflappable before.”

He was right; I wasn’t the type to throw up, not for anything. Even in all the time I’d spent trapped here with Nathan, I’d never been sick.

My heart skipped—no, not skipped, more like tripped and stumbled over a possibility I hadn't considered.

Was I pregnant?

The room felt impossibly small as the word echoed in my mind. Was it possible? A surge of panic twisted in my gut, mingling with the earlier sickness. My cycle, the stress of it all—it could just be a false alarm, right? I hadn’t had a period since Nathan had abducted me, but I’d just figured…

…yeah. There was no way. I had an IUD. Missed periods happened.

“You guys keep some Ibuprofen around here?” Lily asked, interrupting the silence.

“Yeah,” I said. “But I already took some. Need to just…wait it out.”

“I wish I had something stronger,” Lily said. “We could–”

“No,” I shook my head. “I’ve got to stay sharp. We need to figure out how to get Nathan back.”

“Okay–let’s pause,” Lily said. “All Justin told me was that you needed help. I’m still not in the loop, I have no idea what’s going on or what this weird apartment is…like, can you fill me in?”

I looked up at Justin, who’d gone pale at her question–but Derek said what I was thinking when he asked, “You didn’t tell her?”

Lily frowned, looking between the three of us. “Didn’t tell me what?”

Justin took a deep breath, his brow furrowing. His eyes were sparkling with unshed tears, and Derek came over and squeezed his hand. “Lily…you might want to sit down,” he said.

She shook her head, crossing her arms. “No way. Tell me now.”

“Okay,” he sighed, squeezing Derek’s hand back. “Lily…Nathan’s been arrested. And Ma…Ma’s dead.”

Everything seemed to come to a screaming halt, the silence so dense you could have heard a pin drop. Lily stared at Justin like he’d just grown another limb, then she slowly– very slowly–shook her head.

“No way,” she said. “Ma…I just talked to her this morning. She’s…”

She covered her mouth and Justin took a step toward her. I got up with a wince, planning on going to take her hand, squeeze her shoulder, give her a hug…anything.

But she rounded on me.

“Does this have something to do with why you’re hurt?” she asked. “Did you do this?”

“Lily, no–” Justin said. “She saved our lives.”

“And why did your lives need saving?” she said. Her voice was choked, panicked–a night and day difference between the girl who’d patched me up and the one who was breaking down right now. “I don’t…no, she’s not dead. She…”

Lily collapsed on the floor and I went to her without thinking, kneeling beside her. To my relief, she didn’t push me away; instead, she flung her arms around my neck and clung to me, sobbing into my shoulder.

“We’ll explain everything,” I whispered as Justin joined us on the floor. “I’m sorry, Lily…I’m sorry.”