Chapter 4 PARTY TIME

CHAPTER FOUR

Abby silently prayed that Frank was lying about remembering her because she didn't want him to. However, her hopes were dashed as he bluntly asked, "You are the Witch, right?" Abby shook her head in response, mustering the courage to speak. "I'm Abigail," she said, avoiding direct eye contact with him. She began folding her clothes, finding peace in the silence that contrasted with Frank's loud and playfully nature.

"Yeah, I know your name. You're the noisy witch who sat beside me on the plane," Frank continued, attempting to tease Abby. However, she remained unmoved, not even granting him a smile. Instead, she shot him a stern look and warned, "If you call me a witch again, I'll cut your tongue and feed it to the dogs so you won't be able to talk again."

Normally, when Abby issued such a threat to Mick's opponents, they would become scared and sometimes back down. However, Frank seemed different. He burst into laughter, playfully nudging Abby. "Oh, I'm scared. You're going to cut my tongue?" he said, laughing heartily.

Abby felt a surge of anger rise within her as she realized that Frank wasn't intimidated by her words. She had become used to her warning because it strikes fear into people's hearts, but his laughter and playful response fueled her frustration. She clenched her fists, her jaw tensing as she struggled to control her anger.

Her gaze hardened as she locked eyes with Frank, her voice laced with determination. "You think this is a joke?" she asked, her tone cold and sharp. "I may be quiet, but make no mistake, I have the power and skill to back up my words. Underestimate me at your own loss."

Frank's laughter persisted, even in the face of Abby's harsh words. His amusement seemed to intensify, much to Abby's growing frustration. She was surprised by his reaction, unsure of why he continued to find her warnings amusing.

"Did Amara not tell you I'm a wrestler?" Frank asked, glancing at Amara, who stood near the corner of the room with a smile on her face. Amara simply nodded in confirmation.

Abby, still devoid of emotion, raised an eyebrow at Frank's question. "I bet wrestlers don't kill, do they?" she remarked, her voice had no emotions Frank chuckled, puzzled by her question. "Well, they're weak compared to me, because I'm a serial killer. I kill for money," Abby stated matter-of-factly. As the smile that had briefly appeared on Frank's face vanished, Abby felt a sense of satisfaction.

"Okay, girl, you're creeping me out. You're a serial killer?" Frank asked, genuinely surprised by the way she casually embraced the title of a serial killer, as though it were a respectable occupation. Before Abby could respond, Amara intervened, interrupting the conversation. "She's just joking; she has a dark sense of humor," Amara said, attempting to change the conversation.

Frank nodded, though still unconvinced. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of person Abby truly was. Her words had given him pause, and he couldn't shake off the uneaseness that lingered in the back of his mind. He was not sure of how seriously he should take her statements and eager to know more about her.

Amara, curious about why Frank had interrupted their conversation, posed the question directly. "So, why did you interrupt us?" she inquired, her gaze fixed on Frank.

Frank let out a small sigh, sinking into the comfort of the bed as he began to explain. "Well, apparently your boyfriend wants us to go to Scott's fundraiser party," he revealed, his voice laced with a hint of exhaustion. The idea of attending the party didn't seem appealing to him.

Amara nodded in understanding, reassured that she would try to convince Abby to accompany her to the party. Deep down, however, she knew that Abby would likely be reluctant to attend. Parties were not something they had frequently engaged in during their time in Alaska.

"Okay, sure. I'm going to head out now," Frank announced, preparing to leave the room. It was then that Abby's mind clicked, realizing that Frank lived next door with Travis.

As Frank made his way towards the door, Amara hesitated, playing with her fingers while standing at the corner. It was a habit she had developed during their time in Alaska.

"Do you want to go to the party?" Amara finally asked, her voice filled with anticipation. Abby's mind wandered as she contemplated the idea of attending a party. She thought about the how good she might look wearing a dress and the possibility of hearing Frank whisper the word "Witch" in her ear. For some unexplainable reason, she had developed a strange fondness for that name. Although she despised his ego, a part of her longed to see him again.

Abby surprised both Amara and herself as she blurted out her decision. "I think I want to go," she confessed. Amara couldn't help but feel a mixture of surprise and excitement, though she masked it well.

"And next time, don't ever tell anyone you are a serial killer. That's in the past now," Amara firmly expressed, her voice tinged with concern and a touch of frustration. Abby, feeling a pang of remorse for her earlier statement, nodded in agreement. She wished she could take the time back and do she could take back those words.

"I'm not wearing that for the party; it reveals too much," Abby said, her voice firm as she rejected the various clothing options Amara presented to her. Amara couldn't help but wonder why Abby seemed so drawn to wearing men's clothes, finding herself curious about the reasoning behind it.

"We are no longer with Mick okay? Loosen up a little" Amara playfully teased Abby.

But Abby decision remained unchanged in her preference for baggy jeans and trousers, seemingly unaffected by Amara's gentle pushing for her to choose something different.

As they continued to sift through the wardrobe, Abby's phone suddenly emitted a familiar beep, causing her to groan in annoyance. She was surprised, wondering who could possibly be messaging her in Las Vegas, as she hadn't had the chance to meet many people in the city.

Curiosity took the better of her, Abby reached for her phone and anxiously unlocked it to read the message. A sense of fear began to creep over her as she discovered that the sender of the message was none other than Mick.