The Tens by Vanessa Jones (tharntype novel english TXT) 📕

The Tens

Vanessa Jones

Copyright © 2021 Vanessa Jones

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

the tens

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

the tens

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

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PROLOGUE

The white rock, which was nearly her height, loomed at her with a reflective sheen. The hollows in its side looked like eyes, terrifying and watching. Sophie could hear it laughing at her, like a cartoon character. Menacing mirth that echoed from nowhere but also all around her during a night that was as cold as it looked in the heart of the woods.

Despite the fear, Sophie strode up to it and laid her creased hand on the chalky surface, wanting to know if it was real. Her palm slipped upwards and she wobbled on her feet. She could have sworn the rock moved to spite her. Or maybe it was the sudden ferocious wind that had knocked her off balance. She dropped to her knees, as if she were at the mercy of an altar; hoping to be relieved of the haunting of that white rock.

Sophie knew she had to get out of there, dizzy with the desire to run away from the rock and the maniacal laughter. But no matter where she turned, she couldn’t find any openings in the trees that were beginning to buck in the wild wind. In fact, with every blink, the army of trees hugged tighter together and seemed to circle in on Sophie. Like they were arm in arm, moving forth as one. With the wind all but drowning out the laughter, she pressed her back against the reflective rock and waited…

CHAPTER ONE

The rock nightmare was so repetitive that sometimes Sophie yearned for any other kind of nightmare— being chased by vampires or some kind of dystopian apocalypse. Regularly, she woke with a ring of sweat around her neck and a tight headache, part of the ritual of her taunting nightmare. That was always the same. Never changed. A nightmare she’d had since she was little. It started off infrequently. Perhaps four times a year when she was a teenager. Its frequency increased over the years, more so when she was stressed. But since her thirtieth birthday, Sophie couldn’t escape the nightmare or pretend it no longer bothered her. Especially when it happened every single night.

Sophie liked to blame her husband for her uncurling sanity. But that was hardly fair. Especially since Alex had always been the perfect husband to her. With an almost rehearsed attentiveness, they were each other’s best friends. The way he warmed up the car before she got in on cold mornings was all she needed. The way she waited fifteen minutes after they'd eaten dinner to suggest dessert because she knew he liked to have a break between the two, cupped his heart. The way in which she would swipe her thumb across his broad, rectangular forehead, made his smile widen.

Unusually, Alex had started coming home later and later from work. It was so out of character for Alex, being the morning person that he was. So one evening, Sophie couldn’t fight off the unnamed viciousness that caused such friction on her senses anymore. She packed up the soup she had been stirring to hand-deliver to the office of the IT firm where he worked. Hoping it would put the gnawing in her mind to rest when she saw him there, hunched at his desk and the icy light of the screen shining on the pointy bits of his face that made her ache with fondness. She pictured his large nose tip pressing his cupid's bow down, over his incensed lips as he jabbed at his keyboard.

But when Sophie rocked up to the building and saw that his car was not there, she had to finally acknowledge the mounting anxiety. The anxiety that made her think the worst. She tried to lull it by being ashamed of having it. Ashamed for thinking the worst, subtly looking for proof wherever she could. And yet her body was screaming like it was trapped at the helm of a monster.

Relief swam through her like a melody when she pulled up behind Alex's car in the driveway, after she raced home, tilting the container of soup with her careless turning of corners. As she rushed in with the soup in outstretched hands, she felt guilty. For an uncouth and unreasonable panic. Trying her best to hide any trace of embarrassment or disturbance from her husband, she said breathlessly 'we must have just missed each other honey.’

'Huh?' He looked a little perplexed and Sophie knew she had to backpedal to bring the ground back to even.

'Oh, I just made some dinner and thought I'd drop it off to you at work. But by the time I got there, you'd obviously already been on your way home.'

'Ahhh. Yep.' He took the soup from her and became extremely interested in it, discarding his keys, with its silly oval copper keyring, on the bench. The keyring had been with Alex longer than Sophie had. She was so used to the way he circled his thumb over the sketched cross indentation, particularly when nervous or deciding on something.