Forgive Me by Kateri Stanley (reading strategies book TXT) 📕

cusp of your shirts stroke against my cheek. I can smell your perfume and the night we spent together floats into my mind, the hunger rises in me like waves. You know, for a while, after everything. I expected the police to show up at my door, standing outside my house with their guns and cold eyes, storming the office corridors, disturbing my colleagues, leading me off in chains. To be slapped with rape, kidnapping and murder charges but it never happened, no officers showed up at my home or my workplace. Why haven’t you told anybody? Are you scared about their reactions? Do you regret having a baby with a monster?

You shut the bedroom window and your eyes glare around the room. I’ve seen those eyes before. Concern is plastered all over you. As you disappear into our daughter's room, my hand splays up the panelling of the door. I could be making one of the worst decisions of my life, yet a flicker of hope grows in me. My body answers and I rise to my feet, pushing the door open.

I didn’t kill those girls and I know you think I'm responsible for it. I'm going to prove it to you.

I move onto the landing. I can't see you. The staircase is empty. A thought catches me like a fish on a hook. I open the door and I see through the white wooden bars of the cot; our daughter is sleeping. I edge nearer, fear bubbling up from my core. She’s dressed in white with her arms slightly raised above her head. She's wrapped up in a yellow blanket with her name stitched onto the material. You've chosen a beautiful name for her. It’s better than the names I would’ve wanted.

I wish this place could be my home too. The bed you share could be mine and...the woman inside.

A dark thought slithers as I watch our baby. It says I don't deserve you, or her, or anything this place represents. I belong to the past and to the bloody monster I once was.

I turn, keeping my footing quiet as I leave our daughter’s room.

You’re clever though. I didn’t see you sneaking, creeping up behind me when I was watching Sofia sleep. Pain erupts at the back of my head, I fall to the ground, my back hitting the carpet. You stand over me, your eyes burning with anger. I remember very vividly; hands wrapping and clamping around my throat, when I unveiled the honest truth. I know you can’t forgive me for it.

You hold a blue and yellow vase in your hands and you whisper my name, my real name. I try to speak, to explain why I'm here but the darkness is too strong and it welcomes me with open arms.

Chapter Twelve

Winter 2015

You should’ve known better, Stripe thought. Why did you agree to this assignment? Why didn’t you meet this Isaac Payne in a safer location? Why did you follow your stupid fucking curiosity like an eager puppy?

“What is this..?” she asked, her fingers stroking the curves of the chain around her ankle.

“A precaution,” Isaac said.

Stripe laughed, astonished. “For what?”

“The truth.”

The journalist in her would’ve danced for joy. Isaac Payne was turning into the ideal subject her writing was hungering for. He’s been hiding something. “The truth about what? Why the restraints? What the fuck is going on?”

“Because you won’t like what I have to show you. The chains are to keep you safe.”

Hahaha, he must be joking, right? “If this is because I questioned you earlier then I’m sorry. It was my mistake.” She indicated to the chain. “Clearly this proves it.”

“It wasn't meant to be this way.” A douse of fear shot through her as Isaac spoke. “It was meant to be a simple meet up but... I failed, and I can’t keep it down anymore.”

Now, she was frightened. Isaac could’ve been one of the freaks who hurt Charles Libby. His abusers were still out lurking in the silence, who were dangerous and extremely manipulative. What if Isaac Payne was a set up to lure her into some malicious trap?

“Keep what down? Isaac, what are you talking about?” She stared at him. “Is there...something I should know?”

His ice blue eyes shot to hers. “I told myself I wouldn't go down this road again...”

“What road? Let me help you.” So I can beat the crap out of you and write about how much of a psycho you are. “I’m sorry I brought the whole Cameron Storms thing up. If you let me go, I promise I won’t tell a soul. I'll write the article for you, whatever you wish. We can forget about all of this. It’ll be our little secret, okay?”

“That’s what he said...”

“Who said? Isaac, you need to start talking sense cause I’m losing the plot here.”

“You were right about Cameron, in a way.”

Her heart palpitated at the sound of her name. “Is this about Cam? Is she okay...?”

Isaac wiped his head in frustration. “She’s fine. I… can't just tell you. It will kill-” he watched her and her stomach tightened into thick knots. “I think I need to show you. It’s better than explaining.”

“Show me what...?” she whispered with dread.

Isaac marched out of the room, locking the door behind him. Stripe searched around for anything breakable or something to defend herself with but her client and kidnapper had baby proofed the room pretty well. I can’t kill the guy with books. It was strange, the bed she was shackled to was more comfortable than most hotels she'd stayed in and the view from outside was spectacular. A virtual oxymoron of circumstances. Even better, was the resident lunatic as her wonderful host. Overall, the aesthetic scored four stars, but an appealing atmosphere was the most important. Sadly, this place wouldn’t rate well on Trip Advisor. For reasons, of course.

You should’ve been on your guard. You shouldn’t have dropped your shields just because he was flirting with you. She’d been swept up