"Whoa! Now I can breathe. Abby, you did great back there." Nicole said as the car sped onto the road.
"Anytime doctor Ingermanson. It’s nothing; really. I can do better than that. But I'm glad I can help"
"I'm glad you helped. You won't believe what pressure I'm in right now. I've been through a lot already and I don't know what's going to happen next. I'm afraid of what's likely going to happen next" Nicole stared uneasily out of the window.
"And what's that?" Abby asked
Nicole turned back at Abby. "I don't know Abby; I really don't." Then she looked on the windshield, fixed her eyes on the road as if she's trying to get a clearer vision. Her heart kept telling her what's coming is bigger than what happened.
"You know if you need more help on this, you can talk to me." Abby said noticing that Nicole was far into her thoughts.
"Thanks; but I think I can handle it."
"I don't think that’s true. I mean, considering your knee problem and how you've been traumatized lately, going solo on whatever it is you're trying to do isn't wise."
"I said I can handle it." Nicole snapped.
"Alright Dr, I'm sorry"
About a mile to Maggie's house, a black Ford Focus raced through with the X in it. He had turned off the radio as his mind focuses on two things: the cellar and the bitch.
Being armed erases fear; the feeling of the gun tucked in his pants not only gave him some confidence, it firmly stabilized his ill will: he must get what he wants at all cost. That was a firm decision; it's also a good feeling. And in a few minutes; it'll be show time.