Текст книги "Contrite"
Автор книги: Kathy Coopmans
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 15 страниц)
Chapter Twenty-Four
I cannot hear a damn thing as I press my ear to the door and try and listen. Trent made me lock it from the inside just in case his dad tries to come in. It’s not going to do me any good if he shoots a damn hole in it, but it will buy us some time. Yeah, you assholes. I am going to find a way to kill you both.
All I can think about is getting to Turner and killing these two cockroaches. God, I wish I had that knife right now. What the hell am I going to do? I am helpless and defenseless here.
I want so badly to walk across the hall to check on Turner and make sure he really is alive, yet here I stand docilely waiting for the man I hate. Believing in him and trusting him with our lives. I laugh out loud at that thought and how crazy it sounds.
I turn and press my body up against the door and sink to the floor. I keep my eyes trained on the window that is now wide open. The warm summer air is blowing through and I welcome it as I start to get impatient waiting for Trent. I keep a close watch on the alarm clock sitting on the small nightstand next to his bed. It’s been eleven minutes now since he walked out of this room.
The doorknob jiggles and I hear the keys jingling in the lock. I stand up and my eyes go wide as I keep them glued to the door. Quickly, I scan the room for some kind of weapon to protect myself, but there is nothing. This room is spotless. I don’t even see anything I could use as a weapon until my eyes land on a row of metal coat hangers hanging lazily in the small closet.
“I am coming for you, bitch.”
The sound of James’ voice makes me move my feet and I am grabbing a coat hanger off of the rod in no time. The door swings open just as I tuck the hanger behind me out of sight.
The bastard actually licks his lips as he saunters over to me and grabs me by my hair, and then flings me helplessly onto the floor. I somehow manage to keep my hand behind my back as I lay on my side, trembling.
“Where’s Trent?”
“Don’t worry about Trent. He ain’t coming back for you, girl. In fact, he ain’t coming back at all. Fine by me. Now I’m going to taste exactly what my boy seems to be infatuated with.”
He tries to kick me over onto my back, but I don’t budge.
“What do you m-mean, he isn’t coming back?”
I’m trying to rein in my fear. James starts to laugh, but then his expression contorts from laughter to pain etched across his face. He looks straight at me and then it hits me as I cower.
“Oh my God! You killed him, didn’t you? You killed your own son?”
He doesn’t have to answer me; I can see it in his eyes. Oh, no. Even though I hated Trent, I feel as if his death is on my own hands because he was leaving to try and save my life and ended up being murdered at the hands of his own father.
“You don’t think I knew about my son’s infatuation with you? Look at that damn shrine on the wall over there.” He extends his hand out in the direction of the wall.
“I told him over and over again not to fall for you, that all women are fucking whores and that is the only thing any of you are good for. Some of you aren’t even good for that. But did he listen to me? Fuck, no. Fell for you the first time he laid his fucking eyes on you. You must be one good fuck there, bitch, to get both of my sons to fall in love with you. It’s about time I see what that pussy of yours has that no other slut does, because it must be damn good.”
He scans me up and down and lingers his eyes a little too long at my core.
“You sick man! You will have to kill me before I ever let you get your hands on me.”
My words result in a slap across the face. I have had enough of being slapped and punched by men to last me a lifetime and I writhe along the floor trying to escape him.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
My resistance seems to appeal to him as he squats down and grabs hold of my face.
“I like em when they fight. Makes me want you all the more.”
He grabs a handful of my hair and drags me a few feet. Before I have the chance to try and do anything with the hanger, he has me on my back with my hand securely underneath me as he straddles me. He starts ripping at my shirt while holding me down with his other hand wrapped securely around my neck, making it hard to breathe. His fingers dig into the already tender flesh. I am kicking and clawing at his face with my nails, tearing into his flesh. His face twists and he grimaces in pain as blood starts to trickle down his cheek. H lets go of his grip around my neck.
“You fucking worthless bitch!”
He shoves his gun against my temple, and the world stands still for me as I hear the click of a bullet being loaded into the chamber.
“You can fight me all you want, but I am getting what I came in here for. The more you fight me the better I like it. Now get up. Your life will end when and where I say it does, and it sure as hell won’t be in this fucking room.”
I don’t care if me fighting him makes him angrier or turns him on. I am not getting up. I already know I am a dead woman, with Turner behind a locked door severely beaten and unable to even move, and Trent somewhere dead.
“You want to go the hard way then, huh? Well, let’s go. The quicker I fuck you and kill you, the quicker I can get the hell out of here before your fucking family finds you. Though I would love to be here and see their looks of horror when they discover your beautiful face all mangled and beaten and your body sliced all the way from your pussy to your neck. Hell, maybe I will even cut you up into little pieces and throw them all over the place. That might be fun, too.”
He’s becoming more enraged by the second and yet I refuse to budge. That doesn’t stop him from grabbing my legs and dragging me across the room as the carpet brushes roughly across my back, burning me.
It’s so hard to act rationally when you are being attacked. The minute we enter the small hallway and he is pulling me past the room where I know Turner is, I scream. An ear-piercing scream of fear and dread as I swing out my hands and grab the doorframe.
“Turner! If you can hear me at all, please remember always how much I love you!” I yell with panic ripping through my body as James struggles to yank me forward and I hang on with determination.
My hands and fingers are slowly giving out against the strength of my attacker. He is grunting as he tugs and pain shears though my arms and legs as I let go. He drags me just a few more feet before dropping my legs and towering over me.
“Bitch! You need to be taught a lesson! You want to fight me all the way, then fine, because right here is where I am going to end your life,” he sneers and lowers himself right onto my stomach, knocking all the wind completely out of me.
I am trying to gasp for air and every time I take a breath I inhale the reeking, disgusting odor of this man. It’s enough to make me gag and cough as I feel like I am choking on my own bile. He doesn’t care, though, as he slaps me in the face over and over again. I screech and try to block his blows with my hands covering my face as he continues to pound away at me.
“You have ruined my entire plan, you fucking bitch, and you are going to die! Do you hear me? I am going to kill you, Clove! Kill you with my bare hands, and after I am sure you are good and dead I am going to burn this fucking place down with the three of you in it!”
His face is red from his rage. All I can think about is wishing I still had that coat hanger in my hand. I can see it not far from where we are. I know I can reach it if I can just move six short inches, so I start to squirm and kick and do everything in my power to move my body closer.
James is still slapping me like a bitch and I am taking every blow and losing the strength to press forward. I keep repeating to myself, ‘I can do this’ as every blow seems to hurt less as my face grows numb. Blood is dripping down into my mouth and I know if I don’t get to that hanger within the next few seconds, I am going to be out cold. All of a sudden he stops and his gaze follows my hand as I reach for the hanger.
“Fucking cunt!” he bellows loudly. “You can’t outsmart me. You really must have me pegged for a fool.”
He pulls his gun out from the back of his pants and shoves it into my mouth. My eyes go wide and I know any minute he is going to pull the trigger. I whimper in protest.
“That’s what I thought.” He leans in and starts kissing my cheeks. “It’s too bad this pretty little face had to end up this way. Such a mess you are, Clove. I give you a shit ton of credit for trying to fight me, but the game is over, starting now.”
He removes the gun from my mouth and places it back into the waistband of his pants. I can’t move and I can barely see through my swollen eyes, but I do feel him shift his body slightly lower until his hands rest on my lower abdomen.
“Give up, Clove. I have you right where I want you. You can’t escape. It’s no use. There isn’t anyone alive in here but me and you, and soon you will be dead, too. Now, I am going to take, and you’re going to give.”
I have no fight left in me as I feel him undo my jeans and yank my pants down. But then, I hear words from directly behind me. Words coming from a voice I recognize so well.
“Get off of my wife.”
James’ hands stop in midair as he looks up and his face shows stunned disbelief.
“I won’t say it again. Get off of her.”
Turner’s voice is welcome to my ears, even though he sounds so weak and fragile.
“Fucking hell, boy. I should have known your brother wouldn’t kill you like he was told.”
James stands and straightens to his full height.
Slowly I get up and pull my pants back on in slow motion as I turn to look at Turner standing up against the wall with a gun pointed shakily in James’ direction.
“You can’t pull that trigger, you’re too much of a fucking pussy to do it, aren’t you Momma’s boy? Always the one who could never do a damn thing for himself, aren’t I right boy?” he taunts.
“No, DAD. You’re not.”
And then the gun goes off as I turn from Turner to James and watch him stumble backwards. He manages to stay upright until the next bullet hits him square between the eyes. A shocked expression remains on his face as he crumples to the floor with a thud.
I stand there with my mouth hanging open for several beats. I turn to Turner with relief, wanting to wrap him in my arms and just hold him for a moment to celebrate that our nightmare is over. But before I can even take one step toward him, the roar of another gunshot slices through the air and Turner slumps to the floor at my feet.
“NOOOOOO!”
I throw myself down beside him as he lies on his side, bleeding from a wound in his chest. He reaches out weakly and grabs my hand.
“Y-you need to get out of here and call for h-help.”
He can barely get the words out and his eyes flutter closed and then open again.
“No! I can’t leave you like this. Can you get up?” I whisper.
“I don’t think I can, baby. I d-don’t think I am going to make it.”
His eyes drift closed again and this time they don’t open back up. I start shaking him and screaming at him to wake up, my tears flowing like a river dripping down onto his face. He’s limp and lifeless lying before me.
“He’s dead, Clove.”
I hear a sound coming from the shadows in the other room. I must be going crazy. I look up and there standing before me with a gun in his hands is Trent. What in the motherfucking hell is going on?
“Trent. I . . . he . . . he said you were dead! Your dad said he killed you!”
What the hell is happening here? I don’t know how to react or what to do. My husband is dead? God, no. He’s not. I refuse to believe it, and yet I cannot seem to lift my head or open my eyes. I don’t even remember closing them.
“Clove.”
I feel Trent’s cold, clammy hands rest on my arms and I scream, crawling into the corner of the hallway. I pull myself up on legs that feel like rubber as he moves closer to me and boxes me in, pinning me with his glare.
Time freezes for one fleeting moment and everything that has happened to me comes back in a flash of agonizing reality. This brutal son of a bitch has flipped my world into a deep abyss of darkness.
I let out a growl. He played me. This motherfucker played me again. Rage builds up inside of me and I push him as hard as I can. I watch him stumble backwards and grasp the side of the wall to keep him from falling.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” I point my finger to the floor at my husband’s body lying there, still not able to look at him. Tears stream down my face and what pieces of my heart were left are broken when I truly realize that Turner took his last breath saving my life.
“He was in the way of me and you. I had to shoot him, Clove. I had to.”
Trent’s lips tilt up into an amused smirk, bitterness dripping from his words like the sound of pouring rain.
“You motherfucker! I told you I will never be with you. EVER! You’re a liar and a thief and now you have murdered the man I love, and yet somewhere in your sick, perverted head you still think I want to be with you? Fuck you! I will never be with you. I will never love you. You mean nothing to me. Do you hear me? NOTHING!”
I don’t want to be here in this life anymore. The smell of blood assaults my nostrils at next intake of breath from the puddles of blood by both Turner and James. Red. I see red as I look to the floor one last time and I know now what I am going to do as I see my love and his life that was ended way before it should have been. The one man I ever loved is gone and the man I hate is now beside me extending his hand to me.
I just don’t know what the hell is happening here. I thought Trent was dead and I put all the energy I had left into either killing or hurting James badly enough to be able to escape. Now I have nothing left. Absolutely nothing at all as I see Trent’s hand begging me to come to him.
“You’re coming with me,” he says before I collapse to the floor.
I shake my head ‘no’ as he moves closer to me. I reach out my hand and my fingers close around the coat hanger I took from his room.
“I will not live my life in hell or with a man who took my husband’s life. You’ve lived in hell your entire life, and my guess is you love it there. So while I spend eternity with my husband, I hope you rot in hell, and it’s the worst type of pain to ever be inflicted on your blackened soul.”
I twist open the top half of the hanger and the last words that come out of my mouth before Trent can make it to me on time are,
“FUCK YOU.”
And I plunge the end of the hanger straight through my broken heart.
Epilogue
I wake up screaming wildly and bolt upright in bed, thrashing around violently as if I am trying to protect myself. It’s daylight and the sun is shining through the blinds as my eyes dart around my bedroom.
“Oh my God. I am in my room. This can’t be. How did I get here?”
My hands start frantically touching and pinching at my skin to see if I am dreaming. I’m not. I really am in my bed. Did I survive? There is no way I could have. I killed myself in order to be with Turner. I try and bring my knees up to my chest and they barely move. Am I paralyzed now? And why is the bed all wet underneath me? Flipping off the covers in a hurry, I stare down in shock as my eyes land on my very large, pregnant belly.
I don’t know how to explain this. Did I dream the entire thing? Am I hallucinating? How long have I been like this? My eyes scan the spot next to me in bed and I am alone. I need to get up and call my brother and find out what the hell is going on. Just as I swing my legs over the side, I hear footsteps charging up the stairs. I stand and turn toward the door and when he walks through the door, I scream.
“Clove, baby. I heard you screaming. Are you all right? Did you have another nightmare?”
My mind is telling my body that I should fear this man and yet my heart is telling me to run to him.
“Who are you?” I whisper.
He cocks his head as if my words have stunned him
“What do you mean, who am I? Did you have another nightmare, honey?” he asks as he moves closer.
My legs have turned into a solid brick of ice and I cannot move as he stands in front of me and places my hand in his. His hand is comforting and smooth and something about it just feels so right.
“Turner?” I utter in confusion.
“Yeah, it’s me Clove. Did you have another nightmare?” he asks again as he takes both hands and rubs them up and down my arms in the gentlest way.
“A nightmare?” My mind is a muddled and tangled up mess.
“Yes, you’ve been having those a lot lately as we get closer to your delivery date.”
Did I just hear him right? A baby? Our baby? No, this can’t be true. He can’t be alive. He can’t be real.
I reach out and grasp his face with my hands and search deep within his eyes to see if he is real. And he is. He’s real. Turner is alive and it was all a nightmare! A terrible, horrible dream. I bring myself closer to him and watch his lips part as if he is expecting the kiss I so urgently want. The mouth that always soothes and consumes me. Or is it? This crazy, fucked up, twisted mind of mine has to know, and there is only one way to find out.
Slowly, with shaky hands, I unbutton my dress, exposing my swelled breasts.
“What are you doing?”
The sound of his voice has me swallowing, scared as a mouse trapped in a corner with nowhere to go as the cat slinks its way toward its prey, back hunched, ready to attack. Closing my eyes, praying, hoping, and wishing, at first I don’t see what it is I am looking for. But when I open them, I let out a blood-curling scream. There, centered just above my breast, is the scar. The scar left by the hanger I stabbed myself with.
The baby decides to kick hard at this precise moment, bringing me to my knees. The fear, the agony. It wasn’t a dream at all. Why did I survive? How? A sharp pain rips through my stomach as it tightens and I double over, my hands bracing against the floor in front of me.
I look up bitterly at my betrayer . . . a killer, and God forbid, the father of my unborn child. The man standing in front of me isn’t Turner, and this wasn’t a nightmare at all. This is reality, and this is hell, because this man is Trent. Slowly I shake my head back and forth.
“Y-you won, Trent. Didn’t you?”
The darkness continues to devour my tortured soul.
Acknowledgements
Tony, my one true love. You swept me off my feet twenty-two years ago when my eyes first landed on yours the minute you stepped through the door of that bar. My feet never once touched the ground again. The world will now know it was love at first sight.
My boys, Aaron and Shane. You call me the best word ever created: MOM.
Mom and Dad. You always encouraged all seven of us to follow our dreams. I’m living proof that dreams really do come true.
Margaret McHeyzer. You, my friend, were one of the first authors to tell me I could do it. You have helped me more than anyone. One of these days I will come face to face with you, and when I do, be ready for this old lady to leap into your arms. Thank you!
All of my author buddies. You know who you are. Your friendship means the world to me. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU.
My friends and cover models, Tessi Conquest and Nathan Weller. I have no clue where to even begin with the two of you. God placed the three of us together for a reason. Not too many people have the type of bond we do. My love for you grows every day.
My BETA readers. You make me shine bright in this world. You dedicate so much of your time to me. True friendship is what I feel for you. Thank you for being on my side.
My Krew. What can I say, except for the fact I would be nothing without all of you. I have never seen a group of women work as hard as all of you. Lip smacking face kisses from me to you.
Kimberly Capuccio, my editor. Book three, baby! Many more to come for me and you. Words cannot even begin to express my gratitude to you. My love can, though, and you have it. If someone were to ask me right this very minute the one person I want to meet most in this world, it would be you. That day is coming my lovely lady, and my arms are open wide.
To My Author buddies in TGNAFN. Our daily chats and loyalty and trust towards one another are sacred.
My girl Chelle Bliss. I think the entire reading world knows what you mean to me. I will always have your back.
Eric David Battershell. You just needed to go in here. Why? Simply because you came into my life just when I needed a friend, and now our friendship will last forever.
Every reader, blogger, photographer, model. The list is endless when it comes to you. Thank you for taking the time to read my stories and to send me messages with kind and caring words. I never take anyone or anything for granted. Know this from the depths of my soul– I adore you.
My dreams have only just begun; live yours, make them happen. You have the ability to do so.
