“But—” She screwed up her face, clearly unable to trust me or her intuition.
I put a finger to my lips. “Shush. It’s okay. Take your time. I just need you to open up to me, Gertie.” I almost gagged on her name.
She squirmed, and her gaze ping-ponged around the room. Was she looking for cameras, starting to piece together that I was teasing out a full confession?
“You promise not to get mad?” Her voice sounded so childlike—like it had in the bathroom at the signing.
“I promise.”
“It was Roger.”
Sometimes I hated being right. “How’d you meet my uncle?”
She blushed. “It wasn’t hard. He… had a weakness.”
Blood stormed through my ears and turned everything red behind my eyes. “You sought him out and seduced him,” I whispered.
“I didn’t want to. I don’t like men, but I had to—to get close to you. Please tell me you understand. Please.” She clasped her hands together as if praying.
I snapped my eyes shut, slowly counted to ten, and opened them again.
She was rocking on the couch, hugging her chest with both arms. “You promised.”
“I remember. But I still need to know everything. How did Roger figure it out?”
“He used to call me G-Dawg. Kind of a nickname. It was silly of me, really.”
That seemed like Roger. Did that mean she’d wanted to get caught, though? If she stalked me as much as the pictures suggested, she must have been aware of how much time I spent with my family. I switched gears. “Were you responsible for revealing Roger’s affairs?”
Gertie scooted into the corner of the couch. “I did that for you,” she whispered.
“How was that for me?”
Her face contorted in panic. “I wanted to free you—from the shame of his lifestyle. Kat told me how much it tormented you, the way he cheated on your aunt all the time.”
Kat told her that? How close were these two?
I couldn’t push her on this subject without transforming into Super Jock—the out of control side.
“It was such a relief when Roger died,” she said and immediately flinched. “I mean, it was hard on you, but it was hard on me as well. After the G-Dawg trick, he tried ending things with me, but I wouldn’t let him. I wanted—no, needed to stay close to you. I knew I had to be extra careful so he wouldn’t guess how much I cared about you. Do you know how hard that was? All I wanted to talk about was you, but I couldn’t.
“The day he died, he accused me of stalking him. Calling and texting at all hours. Thank God for the accident or I would have had to do something about him. If he contacted the authorities—it would have been bad.” She laughed good naturedly as if she wasn’t completely fucked in the head. “He had no idea the entire time I was with him, I pretended he was you. It was so hard—being with him when I really wanted to be with you. For so long, I didn’t think this”—she waved a hand between us—“you and me in the same room, would happen. And for a while, I was okay with that. I liked to leave you gifts. Did you get them?”
The tulips! And the cookies on the front porch! I remembered the neck of one of the tulips had been snapped. Was that meant to symbolize Kat? I nodded slowly, not knowing where to go.
“Tell me about your friendship with Kat,” I said after a minute.
“I wanted to figure out why you loved her so much, to learn how to make you happy.”
On the inside, my body juddered. The idea that planted in my mind truly made me sick. “Do you like Kat?”
She shrugged.
“Many people think she’s beautiful.”
She nodded noncommittally. Was she trying to spare my feelings? I was completely used to people lusting after Kat and not giving me the time of day.
“Would you consider a…” I couldn’t believe I was about to utter the next word. “Throuple.”
“A throuple? You’d never go for that. I know you too well.” She clutched a pillow to her chest.
I put two hands up. “Kat and I have experimented some, with Clementine—”
Her face flared red with anger. “Don’t lie to me! I know Clementine is your vibrator. And I’ve heard all about Harold’s throuple and your feelings about it, and Kat’s.” She straightened, pulling herself together a little. “I don’t like it when you lie to me.”
“I’m not lying. That was the first step to wanting to broaden our… our sex life. I know you and Kat were close, but she and I had conversations no one was privy to.” I blocked out the knowledge that Mom, Barb, and Kat, along with Floyd, Harold, and unfamiliar police officers were listening to every word I said. If I survived this, how would I ever live it down?
“I don’t know. I don’t like to share.” Gertie pouted and met my eyes. I kept my gaze firmly fixed on her.
How did I even get to this point—trying to compromise with a stalker? And why? Surely this was enough. What other information could I get out of her?
“Why do you love her so much?” Gertrude asked. “Especially after she let you down.” The bafflement in her voice was genuine.
“Let me down?” Despite my best efforts, the words came out with too much force.
“She should have stayed home that night. And it wouldn’t have happened.”
The word happened wiggled an unthinkable thought in my brain.
“What do you mean? What happened?” The words rushed out of my mouth anyway. I didn’t know how. Sheer willpower I guessed. Or rage.
“I didn’t mean to do it, you know. But it was snowing, and she shouldn’t have gone out like that. Taking your unborn child out in that weather, all alone, and at night too. I read an article that said you guys used your egg. I just meant to follow her—to keep an eye on her, ya know, make sure nothing bad happened.”
I stopped breathing.
“Then her car fishtailed a little, but she still didn’t turn around. When she pulled into Taco Bell, I lost it. She was pregnant with your child, and she’d driven in a snowstorm for a taco.” Gertie’s voice grated like heavy-duty sandpaper on metal and she shook her head, tsking.
Kat hated Taco Bell. But I loved it, especially when I drank, and even though Kat’s memory of that day was minimal my gut told me she had gone to Taco Bell to surprise me.
Everything. The accident. Kat. Charlotte—all of it was my fault. If it wasn’t for this nut job stalking me, Kat’s trip to Taco Bell would have been forgotten by now.
Gertie continued speaking in that soft, childlike voice. “I knew I had to do something. Just teach her a lesson, so she’d be more careful. I only rammed into her car a little bit to push her off the road.”
The room spun viciously, and I gasped for air.
“After I hit her, I waited at the scene, out of sight, so the cops wouldn’t see my banged-up car. I wanted to be there when you heard the news she was dead, so I could comfort you from afar. But she didn’t die. I followed the ambulance. When you arrived at the hospital and saw me in the waiting room, I felt like you understood. Like you were saying thank you. Thanking me for ridding you of a woman who would never make you happy. I thought for sure you would see the light and leave the selfish bitch after what happened, but you didn’t.” Her tone hitched up a notch. “Why didn’t you leave, Cori?” It became a screech. “After everything I did for you!”
I snapped.
I seriously fucking snapped. I lunged to Gertie’s side of the couch, pinning her beneath me and pressing my hands around her throat. “I’m going to fucking kill you!” I yelled, tightening my grip.
Floyd and several police officers stormed through the front door, yanking me off the sicko.
“Let me at her.” I flailed about in Floyd’s arms. “She murdered my daughter!”
Floyd hefted me off the floor and hauled me into the kitchen.
“She killed my daughter!” I bellowed.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Our family, including
Harold, Sam, and Lucy, sat around the dining room table in my parents’ home. It’d been over a year since Gertrude had been arrested, charged, and locked up in a mental institution, but that wasn’t the reason for tonight’s gathering. It was our last family dinner before Kat and I boarded the 7:50 a.m. flight to London the following morning. After having to put London on hold, it was a relief to finally be able to move forward.
Mom raised her glass of red wine. “To Kat, our gifted daughter. May this experience be just what you need.”
“Here, here.” Dad clinked his pint glass with Kat’s.
Harold toasted with a purple concoction—I was afraid to ask what that was. Sam started to roll her eyes, but her wife’s glare stopped her before her eyeballs could complete the arc.
“I can’t believe the time has come,” Barbara said, swiping at one eye.
“Jeez, Barb, you’re acting like you’re never going to see them again. You’ll be in London the following week,” Mom chided, trying to keep a stiff upper lip. “I’m the one being left behind.”
“Left behind? You and Dale are coming over for the entire month of August. Two and a half weeks from now.” Barbara countered. The two sisters carried on bickering back and forth.
Secretly, I hoped my parents would fall in love with London and stay.
Harold turned to me with glee on his face. He was flying with Barb, and he had packed and repacked his bags days ago. Kat and I were looking forward to a week alone before getting to work.
“I hope your place is big enough for when we visit.” Sam circled a finger toward herself and Lucy.
“You don’t mind the couch, right?” I ducked, knowing she’d lob something across the table at me. An olive pinged me right between the eyes. “Nice shot.”
Sam bowed in her seat.
“You two could always crash in my room.” Harold’s voice wasn’t seductive, but the hopefulness in his eyes was comical.
“In your dreams, perv.” Lucy laced her fingers through Sam’s. “Not after you ruined my proposal.”
“Hey now,” I came to Harold’s defense. “Sam ruined that all by herself.”
Another olive shot across the table.
Sam stabbed the air with her hands. “Bull’s-eye.”
Barbara’s sniffling hushed the rest of the group. “I know we’ve been planning this for ages, but now that it’s here, it’s…” Barb sipped her drink with a shaky hand.
Mom nodded. The two sisters eyed each other, not speaking but connecting on their secret sibling wavelength.
“August will be here before you know it.” Kat looked to my mom and dad. “Our family dinners will take place in quaint pubs.”
“Hell, yeah,” I said. “I’m making it my mission to ferret out all the best pubs.”
“Way to aim high, Cori.” Mom scoffed in her typical Nell Tisdale way. It was an indication of how hard this separation would be on her. I was her baby, and now I was flying the coop, crossing the pond for an unspecified amount of time. After the Gertrude affair, the police investigation, and the trial, Kat and I had no desire to return.
“It’s only a five-hour flight. I’m game with helping you find pubs.” Sam looked to Lucy. “You in?”
“I’m in.” Luce pushed her glasses into place. “As long as we can find a babysitter.” She cradled her tiny baby bump, eyeing Mom and Barb expectantly.
Mom and Barb nodded their agreement.
Kat met my eye with a nostalgic grin. Sensing the change in her mood, we all straightened in our chairs.
“To new beginnings.” Kat raised her glass. “And to family. Always.”
***
The wind swirled around us, making it nearly impossible to determine which direction it was blowing from.
Kat flipped her dark locks away from her face to take in the view. “I can’t believe we’re standing on Tower Bridge.”
“I can’t believe they’d take their kid out in this wind,” I said, nodding to a family pushing a baby in a buggy. As soon as I said it, I kicked myself and examined Kat’s face for any sign of sadness, but her gaze was fixed on the skyline of London.
That could have been us, I thought for a moment, me and Kat and Lottie, even despite the wind.
We had landed at Heathrow several hours ago, and our first stop after checking in at the hotel was the bridge.
Glad Kat hadn’t reacted to my gaffe, I pointed to the right, unwilling to let my memories cloud the moment. “The Tower of London is right there.”
Kat soaked in the view of the medieval structure on the northern side of the River Thames.
I read a paragraph from the guidebook and gave Kat the highlights. “Elizabeth I, before she was queen, was sent to the Tower. Obviously, she wasn’t killed. According to this book, fewer than ten people were executed inside the Tower. One victim was Anne Boleyn. They say her ghost haunts the chapel.” I scanned the page. “Tower Hill, to the north, is a totally different story. More than one hundred were killed.”
Kat’s gaze wandered, taking in the mix of historical structures and glass buildings. A nearby plaque supplied the names of the best-known structures. The Gherkin, the Monument, the top of St. Paul’s, the Tate, City Hall. Kat tapped the plaque. “The Shard isn’t on here.”
I double-checked. “Must be too new.” I studied the narrow, glass pyramid skyscraper on the South Bank. “We’re having dinner there tomorrow night.”
She gripped my arm. “We are?”
“Yep. On the thirty-third floor. Anselm reserved a table for half an hour before sunset. That way, we can watch this bridge light up.” I held the railing with both hands and leaned over to see the top of the bridge.
Another gust of wind tousled Kat’s hair, and I ringed an arm around her waist. “Can you feel that?”
She spat hair out of her mouth. “Taste it, more like.”
I smiled. “Not that, silly. That.” I spread my arms as another gust blew over us. “Do you feel it?” I waved to the horizon. “The winds of change. Promising new adventures in London and beyond.”
A City Cruises boat chugged along the water below, heading underneath the bridge, drawing our attention. The baby, swaddled in her mother’s arms, saw it too. She laughed—that delightful, gurgling baby laugh—and clapped her small hands.
I turned to Kat, expecting to see that same old sadness in her eyes, but my beautiful wife just smiled as she slipped her hand in mine.
“To new adventures… in London and beyond,” she said, and we continued on over the bridge, both of us keeping our eyes on the happy baby ahead.
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Author’s Note
Thank you for reading Confessions from the Dark. If you enjoyed the novel, please consider leaving a review on Goodreads or Amazon. No matter how long or short, I would very much appreciate your feedback.
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About the Author
TB Markinson is an American writer living in England. When she isn’t writing, she’s traveling the world, watching sports on the telly, reading, or visiting pubs—not necessarily in that order. She has also written A Clueless Woman, A Woman Lost, A Woman Ignored, Marionette, Confessions from a Coffee Shop, Claudia Must Die, Girl Love Happens, The Miracle Girl, and The Chosen One. For a full listing of all her published works, please visit her Amazon Page.
Table of Contents
Prologu
e
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
Author’s Note
About the Author
Confessions From the Dark Page 24