That Day by Karen Deen (best novels to read in english txt) 📕

It was always Dad who would push the boundaries, much to Mom’s disgust. I’m sure he wished he had a son who he could have really let go with, do all the rough and tumble things. Although I did as much as I could with him, I would chicken out at the last minute. He would give me the biggest smile and hug and tell me how proud he was of me for being brave and just for trying. If only he could see me now, he wouldn’t think I was so brave.

Thinking about Mom and Dad is making me sad instead of trying to distract me. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them, and I miss them terribly.

Rereading the last two paragraphs I wrote, I highlight them both and delete the whole lot. They’re just crap, and I may as well give up for tonight. You can’t force the words, no matter how much you try. Actually, I’ll probably delete everything I wrote today, after Davina visited with her partner.

Her visit threw me a little, and I didn’t like the new guy she had with her. He creeped me out a bit. I don’t know why, but he just did. Plus, I’m never good at lying to her. I’m sure it’s only because of the storm that she doesn’t already know about Kurt being here. Actually, up until today, I don’t think I’ve ever been anything but completely honest with her. I trust her with my deepest secrets and rely on her for everything. She is the friend I needed at the time in my life when I felt eternally lost.

I know I’m her client too, but we became more than that from day one. She even beta reads my books for me. Pointing out the plot holes and screaming at me every time I leave her hanging between chapters. If you looked at her, dressed in her pant suit most days, carrying a gun and trying to fit in with the boys, you wouldn’t take her for a romance book lover. I know that’s stereotypical, thinking that someone in her profession wouldn’t read my kind of books, but deep down everyone loves a good love story, even the tough ones.

Oh shit, what will Kurt think when he reads them? God, I hope he was joking when he said he would look me up. I shouldn’t have told him that I keep my identity secret. Even though the name on the books is my pen name, that I stupidly blurted out to him, no one has ever seen the real me in pictures or knows who I am, until now with Kurt. I can’t have that sort of attention on me.

I prefer to stay in the background.

Who am I kidding? I need to stay in the background. Readers can’t know it’s me who writes them. Imagine if they found out. I remember when I told my mom years ago that I wanted to write books. She told me to go for it and write what makes me happy. Well, I’ve achieved that. It’s just a shame I can’t share it with the world.

Kurt probably won’t read them anyway. I’m sure he was being polite. I can’t imagine that my stories would interest him one bit.

I close down my laptop and walk to my office, hooking up to the charger in case we lose power again, then I head back to the kitchen to make a cup of chamomile tea. It’s my nightly ritual to try to help me sleep. Then I might just crawl into bed so I can snuggle under the covers where I feel the safest.

The rumble of thunder is getting closer, but all reports say that it’s not going to be like last night, just a regular storm. The kettle now heating up, I do the check of all the doors and windows to make sure they’re locked up tight, Coco at my heels, like my bodyguard. She knows the drill, because it’s the same every night.

PJs on, Coco beside my bed on the floor, I sit up with my kindle, trying to read. Not a romance story but an autobiography. I can’t read romance stories when I write. It messes with my thought process. I set my cup on the bedside table, just as the rain hits. The thunder is above me, and the noise rumbles the whole house. The lights dip momentarily and I’m right back there in that awful scene. The one I lived and can’t ever get to leave me.

That rain, it’s always so loud, make it stop. Make the noise stop.

“Where is the fucking girl? She has to be here! If you’ve lost her you bunch of idiots, the boss is going to kill us all. Keep looking!”

I can’t feel my legs, they’re numb. Wet, cold, and numb. Scrunched up in the tightest little ball. My knees up under my chin. My whole life I’ve hated how short I am, but tonight, it’s all I have in my favor.

The footsteps are getting closer. One after the other, stomping through the building. I try to count how many there are. I can’t work it out. They just seem so loud. Even over the huge storm raging outside, I can hear them yelling. I can’t get my hands over my ears to make it go away. I’m afraid to move even one single part of me.

“When you find her, she’s mine. I’ll make her forget what she saw. After I fuck her for pissing me off and giving me extra work tonight. Then I’ll fill her mouth so she can’t say a word. Then we get her back to the boss and he can decide if he keeps her or just gets rid of the problem,” the leader is yelling to his men. His voice, I’ll never forget it. It’ll haunt me in my sleep.

In my head, I’m screaming for help and telling them to leave me alone. But in reality, I’m