Abby heard a commotion outside her door and she peered through the peep hole to find out what was going on. She caught a glimpse of Bailey and Harper before there was a sudden knock on her door which caused her to jump back in fright. Smoothing her dress and taking a moment to calm herself, she opened the door and looked out expectantly.

“Oh, you are here,” Harper said with a grin.

“Mason said he didn’t think you were home,” added Bailey.

“I did go out earlier,” Abby lied, not wanting to get Mason in trouble, which was kind of dumb because she was still mad at him.

“Oh. Well, you’re here now and we really want you to come over to Mason’s to join us,” Harper said.

“We’ve brought food,” Bailey said, holding up a plastic container that looked like it held potato salad.

“Are you having a party?” Abby asked, intrigued. She didn’t have Mason pegged as the party guy and wondered how he would react to having so many people in his personal space. If there was one thing she’d learned about her neighbour, it was that he liked his privacy.

“Sort of,” Bailey said, “We’re actually here to be his alpha-testers.”

“Alpha-testers?” Abby asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You know he designs games, right?” This from Harper. “Well, apparently this last one has been giving him trouble but he thinks he’s ironed out the kinks.”

“Glitches,” Bailey said.

“Right, glitches,” Harper nodded, her mouth over pronouncing the foreign word. “And so before he takes it back in to the office for it’s official beta-testing, we’re going to test it first.”

“Don’t you think it sounds fun?” Bailey asked with a wide smile, “We get to kill people, lots of them.”

There was a bit of a manic look in Bailey’s eye and Harper placed a hand on her shoulder in support of something that Abby had no idea about.

“Say you’ll come,” Harper said, “We need to even out the testosterone a bit.”

Abby looked behind her, but there was nothing pressing that she had to attend to. She had sent some preliminary character sketches and story outline to Juliet and was actually ahead of schedule for once. Mason had become a very active Muse in her imagination and the words had flowed from her fingertips like a gushing stream after a snow melt.

She looked back at the two, eager women and smiled. “Why not,” she said, “I have nothing else to do.”

Harper clapped and Bailey slid her arm through Abby’s. “Apparently the game is super violent, but from what I can gather, all Mason’s games are.”

“Violence doesn’t bother me,” Abby said, “I read horror and thrillers for fun and watch scary, gory movies all the time.”

“Okay, good,” Harper said, taking her other arm as the approached Mason’s door, “Because we wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea about him. Mason has a tough exterior and comes across a bit standoffish, but he has the sweetest heart.”

“Tough guy with a heart of gold, hey?” Abby said, barely disguising the sarcasm behind her words.

“Exactly,” Bailey said, completely missing Abby’s little jab.

Harper opened the door to Mason’s apartment without knocking and Abby stepped over the threshold, taking in the sight of his inner sanctum.

The apartment was the mirror image of her own, but she had already garnered that. The kitchen, bathroom and main bedroom shared the common wall with her kitchen, bathroom and main bedroom. The living and dining area was open plan, with big windows letting in lots of light and a view of Melbourne CBD. There was a small dish on the windowsill filled with small, fish shaped biscuits and she grinned, really not picking Mason as a cat person.

The room itself was all dark wood and leather, a typical male space. Bookshelves lined the wall either side of an enormous flatscreen television, but they weren’t filled with books. Correction, they weren’t lined with just books. She walked over and curiously ran her finger along the spines of some of her favourite novels and got a little thrill when she saw that he had the complete series of A.A. Abernathy books. Below the books were pristine covers of various video games, all by the same company, Black Sheep Software and Games.

“Hello Abby.”

She jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, so engrossed in her perusal of his stuff that she hadn’t heard him approach. He stood behind her, close behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body and feel the whisper of his breath on her neck. Was it wrong that she wanted him to press his body against hers and push her up against the bookcase? Yes, it was, especially while they were in a room full of people, which she had already forgotten about.

She turned around slowly, but he didn’t move back, he kept his feet, crowding her with his nearness. She looked up at him into blue eyes that had darkened with, what she hoped or maybe dreaded, was desire. His eyes roamed over her face hungrily like it had been too long since he’d seen her and was drinking her in. She couldn’t help doing the same. His dimples were not in effect today, instead he looked even more serious than usual and there was an anxiousness or maybe nervousness about him that was uncharacteristic.

“Hello Mason.” Her voice was low and breathy and it sparked something in his eyes. He looked at her lips and she wondered if he was remembering the kiss, if he was hoping to repeat it.

“We’re all here, Mason,” one of the men called, Abby wasn’t sure which one. “So let’s get this party started.”

His eyes flashed regret for a second and then he turned and smiled at his friends. It was a genuine smile, but something was off with it. If Abby had to guess, she would say he wasn’t exactly keen to have his entire group of friends here but he would never turn them away either. With a sigh he moved away from her and into the middle of the room. Abby followed him and found a place on the large leather corner suite that dominated the space.

Mason swallowed down his anxiety and forced himself to look at each of his friends. He knew they were here to support him, but showing them this game was nerve-wracking all the same, it always was. It didn’t matter that these guys had played every single game he had ever designed, Mason still waited for the day they would call him a fraud, a hack who had no business designing games, let alone running a company that had won several awards for the games they produced.

He took a deep breath and tried to smile. “Okay,” he said, “The name of the game is ‘Avenging Angel’. The premise is that the main character is out for revenge and takes it upon himself to avenge his wife’s murder by killing as many criminals as possible before the police catch up to him.”

“Cool,” Declan said and Mason felt a little of his apprehension leave.

“The game is violent and gory,” he said as a warning, “It will carry an R rating and is not intended for children or the soft of heart.”

Mason worried about the darkness within him that could produce such violence. He had started designing games as a way to deal with the violence of his past, a way to hit-out at something without doing any real damage. He’d tried boxing and other more physical forms of stress relief, and they worked to an extent, but there was something inside him that drove him to want more. He didn’t think himself capable of actually killing a real human being, but he could do it time and again on screen and it helped to push back the cold fury that sometimes threatened to overtake him.

They drew straws to decide who would play first and Abby got the short straw. That was the worst possible outcome. He hadn’t wanted her here, not because he didn’t want to see her, but he hadn’t wanted her exposed to this side of him. He hadn’t wanted to taint Sweet Abby with his darkness. But now she was here and she was first up to play. With a deep sigh of regret, he set the game up and walked over to sit next to her, handing her the controller. She took it excitedly and eagerly watched the opening scenes from the game. The animation still needed work in the story sections of the game, but that would be smoothed out when he took it back to the lab, he had specialist animators who would tweak it.

As the story played out, he watched Abby. His eyes traced the curve of her cheek and the sweep of her smooth throat. He drew in a breath and caught a hint of her scent, something soft and not overpowering, subtle and feminine. He could imagine himself burying his nose in the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet perfume, tasting the delicate skin there. He wanted to run his tongue across her collarbones and dip into the hollow at the base of her throat. He wanted to nip at the sensitive place below her ear and hear her sharp intake of breath. He wanted to once again feel her soften beneath him, her body going pliant in submission as he pressed against her. He wanted her naked and spread out on his bed, her hair fanned out on his pillows and those big brown eyes of hers looking up at him with desire. What would she look like without those large black framed glasses? What would she look like as she came, calling his name?

He heard the first gunshots from the game and he turned to the screen to watch the drama unfolding. Abby was not timid as she took down the first few kills. He was surprised at her skill and turned back to watch her face. She had drawn the corner of her lip between her teeth and her eyes were concentrated on the screen. She played unflinchingly, the blood splatter and gore not bothering her in the slightest. He watched her hands as she switched out weapons and hunted her prey, she didn’t even have to look down at the controller and he couldn’t stop the smile that stretched his mouth. His Sweet Abby was fierce and that appealed to him in a way he’d never expected.

He tore his gaze away from her to take in his friends, who were all staring at him and Abby. Hunter raised an eyebrow at him and Brooks grinned. They approved of her, he could see it in there gazes. Sirens on the screen caught his attention and he watched as Abby’s character was gunned down by the pursuing police.

“Shit,” she said under her breath and it startled a laugh out of him. She looked over at him and her cheeks flushed pink as she handed over the controller.

He took it from her, careful not to touch her, but he couldn’t take his eyes from her excited ones.

“That was insane,” she said with a huge grin, “And so much fun.” She even giggled, the sound so foreign in his space that it robbed him of breath for a moment.

“You did well,” he said, his voice rough, “You’ve played before.” It wasn’t a question.

Someone took the controller out of his hand and he heard the game restart.

Abby shrugged. “I play a little.”

“So what did you think?”

“I liked it, a lot. First person shooter games can get a bit boring, but you’ve got enough story in there to keep the player interested. The character arc surprised me, you don’t normally see that in a game. How does it end, though? Like if you get all the bad guys and manage to evade the police?”

Mason looked back at the screen to watch the current player get taken out by one of the criminals he’d been pursuing. “He doesn’t,” Mason said.

“He doesn’t?”

Mason looked back at Abby, “The guy doesn’t win, he can’t. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, but he does it anyway because he just has this need inside him for revenge, but he also knows he has to die, if not at the hands of the murderers he’s after than by the police. His ultimate goal is to join his wife in death, but he wants to take as many bad guys with him along the way.”

“Suicide by police?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

He shrugged, “It seemed appropriate.”

Abby turned back to the screen as someone else took up the controller. “I don’t like that ending,” she said quietly.

Mason thought it over, watching the screen as he ran through the different scenarios that they had tested. “It was the only scenario that our initial testers felt satisfied with,” he said, “They didn’t want him to get away with what he’d done, even if they thought he was justified in doing it.”

“I get that he has to die and that that was his end-game all along, but I don’t think he would want his death on the conscience of some poor police officer who was only doing his job.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“He needs a place that he has pre-prepared. A place where he can go when he feels that he has satisfied his revenge, a place where he can die on his own terms.”

“Like a bunker rigged with explosives,” he said, thinking out loud. “He can draw as many of the remaining bad guys in with him and then BOOM, they all die and he along with them.”

She nodded, “Yeah,” she said, “I like it.”

“Mason,” Bailey asked coming over to them. She stood behind the couch where they sat and laid a hand on Mason’s shoulder to get his attention. Abby watched in fascination as he flinched almost imperceptibly and then stilled. The muscles in his arms and shoulders stiffened and his fists clenched. He reminded Abby of a coiled spring and not even breath moved through him, he was like stone.

“I was just wondering if you wanted us to set out the food now?” Bailey continued, unaware of the affect her touch had on Mason. She removed her hand, turning as Hunter approached cautiously, the smile on his face one that you would use to calm a spooked child.

“That sounds great,” Hunter said, “I’ll help.” He drew Bailey away and Abby turned her attention back to Mason, watching as his body relaxed by degrees.

“Thanks Bailey,” he said, but his voice sounded strange, forced.

Abby wanted to comfort him, to put a hand on his thigh or cover his hand with hers, but after seeing the reaction he’d had to Bailey’s innocent touch, she knew it wouldn’t be welcome. She shifted, surreptitiously moving a little closer to him so that their hips touched. She expected him to jump up and away from her, but surprisingly, it seemed to relax him more and the frigid coldness that had invaded him as he’d frozen like stone, was replaced slowly with warmth. His skin, which had paled, regained some colour and he blinked his eyes a few times like he was coming out of a trance.

She noticed that the three other males in the room were watching him carefully, while the two other females carried on unawares. Interesting. There was history there, something shared between the friends that had not been shared with the fiancées. That made sense. The men had a long history together and the woman were fairly new additions to the group. Whatever Mason’s issue was, it was a closely guarded secret. She liked that his friends had his back and that they had circled the wagons around him while he dealt with this crisis. Abby didn’t quite know what the crisis was, but they did and they were there for him.

She sat as still as she could, her hip and thigh warmed by it’s contact with Mason’s. She had no intention of moving until she knew he was back to normal and thought of it as her silent support of whatever was going on in his head. The party went on around them, the other men keeping up a steady stream of chatter despite their obvious concern for Mason, and she gathered that this was a practised move. They gave the atmosphere a sense of normalcy while Mason battled his demons silently.

“Lunch is ready,” Harper called and she felt the moment Mason returned to himself completely. He seemed to shake himself free of whatever had held him captive and he made eye contact with each of his friends, a silent communication that only they understood and then finally her turned to her. He bowed his head and rested it on her shoulder, breathing in deeply.

“Thank you,” he whispered and Abby closed her eyes, relishing the closeness.

He lifted his head and she opened her eyes to see him smiling at her. “I know you don’t understand,” he said quietly, “But thank you.”

She nodded at him, too afraid to speak around the lump in her throat. Unsolicited tears pricked the back of her eyes and she swallowed hard, willing them not to fall. She didn’t even understand why she felt the need to cry except that she felt a kind of kinship with Mason and almost felt his pain in her own body.

He cupped her cheek softly and then turned his hand over to run his knuckles over her skin. “Sweet Abby,” he breathed as he looked at her like he wanted to devour her and Abby had to hold in a mewl of neediness.

And then he was gone. Standing suddenly and breaking the contact with her. She felt bereft, like a part of her had been brutally cut away and she was left feeling hollow at it’s absence. She took a shaky breath, forcing down the overpowering tide of emotions that threatened to swallow her.

This was why she didn’t get close to people, this was why she lived alone and didn’t have friends. She didn’t know what to do with all the residual feelings that coursed through her veins. She stood, restless, and shook out her hands as if the action could dislodge the sticky emotions that clung to her. She wanted to run, to leave the apartment that now seemed overcrowded and put some distance between herself and the people who were invading her space. She felt like she needed to shower, to wash away the residue of Mason’s crisis that her empathy had taken on as her own. It was a fine film, like a coating of salty air that sticks to you on a humid day at the beach.

A soft touch on her shoulder and then a warm hand grasping her elbow brought her out of her fugue. Mason stood beside her, looking down at her with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

“Are you okay?” he whispered

Abby took a breath and as she looked up into his clear blue eyes, the beginnings of her panic attack melted away. She smiled and saw the relief in his eyes when she nodded.

“Hungry?”

She nodded again and then cleared her throat. “Starving,” she said.

Mason led her over to where everyone else had assembled around the table and she prepared herself for their curious looks and concerned questions, but none of it came. She sat and took the plate that was handed to her while someone else spooned some of the potato salad she had seen earlier onto her plate. They behaved as if nothing unusual had happened, as if she had not just nearly melted down in the middle of the living room and she relaxed further. This group of people were special and Abby felt a distinct pleasure and honour at being so readily accepted by them. She caught Mason’s gaze across the table and smiled at him in thanks. He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement and the last of her anxiety melted away.