What Hurts the Most: An engrossing, heart-stopping thriller (7th Street Crew Book 1)
Page 25
“Sandra!” I yell.
Blake falls backwards and lands on his back. Sandra falls to the ground, face first. Next to her are the pool guy’s containers. Blake is fast to get to his feet, then he grabs one of the containers, rips the lid off, and pours the liquid acid over Sandra.
After that, there is nothing but screams. Sandra’s tormented screams.
Blake stares at her. He looks startled, then drops the container. I jump back over the fence and try to get her up.
“Water,” the pool guy yells. “Get lots of water on her.”
I manage to get her to the pool shower and hose her down. The pool guy pulls a hose and starts squirting her as well. Sandra doesn’t stop screaming.
“My face! My face!”
While the pool guy fumbles with his phone and calls 911, I watch as Blake heads down the road, stops a car, pulls the driver out of the front seat, gets in, and drives off.
Epilogue
October 2015
I am already in the hospital when they call me. I am visiting Sandra. She is lying in her bed, her face all gauzed up. I am sitting in a chair next to her.
“I am so glad you’re going home today,” I say.
I look at what little of her face I can actually see. Her skin doesn’t look good. I fear the worst for what it looks like underneath the gauze. A doctor comes in, along with a nurse, and gives the order to remove it.
Sandra tries to smile at me. Ryan is standing on the other side of her. I can tell by his face he is appalled by what he sees. I try to not let it show.
“Is it that bad?” she asks.
I shake my head. But it’s a lie. The doctors have tried their best, but she still looks terrible.
“We had to transplant new skin from your back and thigh,” the doctor says. “You’re lucky it didn’t get in your eyes,” he continues. “At least it is all only cosmetic.”
Only cosmetic? But that’s her entire life! Her looks are her life!
“Is it really that bad?” she asks, looking at her husband. He is crying through his forced smile.
“We’re just glad we didn’t lose you,” I say, and grab her hand.
“Can I see?”
“Are you sure you’re ready for it?” Ryan asks.
“I have to at some point, right?” Sandra says. I can tell by her voice she is about to cry. She can’t hold it together for much longer.
The doctor helps her get out of bed and walk to the bathroom, where she can look at herself in the mirror. I close my eyes as I hear her shriek.
“I’m…I’m hideous,” she says.
I hold back the tears and walk up to her. “I am so sorry, Sandra,” I say. “I am so, so sorry.”
That’s when my phone starts to ring. I pick it up. It’s my dad’s doctor.
“I have wonderful news,” he says. “Your father just opened his eyes.”
I look at Sandra as I hang up. “My dad’s awake,” I say through tears. “He’s alive.”
She tries to smile. “Go. Go see him.”
“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”
“Of course. Now go!”
I run down the hallway and find his room. I run inside, then stop. There he is. Still hooked up to all the instruments and tubes, but he is looking at me.
My dad is looking at me!
I walk to him and he follows me with his eyes. A tear escapes the corner and rolls down his cheek.
“Oh, Dad,” I say, grabbing his hand. It feels limp.
“It doesn’t appear that he can move it,” the nurse says. “So far, there are no reactions in any parts of his body, except his eyes. He hasn’t spoken yet.”
I stare into his eyes, mine filling with tears. Right now, all that doesn’t matter. All that I am thankful for is to be able to look into his eyes once again.
“I am so sorry, Daddy,” I say. “I am so sorry for all this. It’s all my fault. You were right. About Blake, I mean. He was guilty, and I wasted so much time trying to prove that he wasn’t. You were right all along. Oh, Dad for so many years I blamed you for not doing anything when Mom was doing all those awful things to me while growing up. For so many years, I resented you for letting it happen to me. Only, the other day, I realized something.” I hold his hand tight in mine and place the palm on my chest. “You didn’t know, did you? You didn’t realize what she was doing until it was too late.”
I sniffle and wipe tears away from my cheeks. “I can’t believe how badly I messed up. I came down here to straighten things out, to fix things, and look at what has happened. Look at everything that happened. You, Sandra…”
“It wasn’t all bad,” a voice says behind me. I turn and look at Joey and Salter. They’re holding flowers and balloons. My dad’s eyes light up when he sees them. Behind Joey, I spot Sandra and Ryan.
“I called them,” Sandra says. “I hope it’s okay. Oh, yeah, and I called a few others as well.”
She walks in, and after her come Danny, Marcia, Alex, and Chloe. They all surround us.
“Thank you, Mary,” Danny says. “For finding Jean’s killer. For stopping Ally and for stopping AK.”
“See. I told you. It wasn’t all in vain,” Joey says. “You stopped a serial killer.”
I chuckle with tears in my eyes as the crew approaches me. We all hug for a little while. I am crying. I can’t hold it back.
“You guys…” I say, and wipe my eyes.
“So, now what?” Alex asks. “Are you going back to new York?”
I look at Joey, who doesn’t look at me. His eyes hit the floor. Salter looks at me in anticipation. I know what he wants me to say. I know what they all want me to say. And that is when I finally make the decision, because that is what I want too.
“Nah,” I say. “I think we’ll stay here for a little while. My dad has great insurance and the company agreed to build him a new house. He’s going to need someone to take care of him. I have a feeling Laura isn’t the nursing type. Besides, I have a blog I want to start writing, right Chloe?”
Chloe throws me a thumbs-up. “I already have the perfect design for it. Watch out, world!”
Joey’s face lights up, along with Salter’s. So, we’re staying, Mom? We’re really staying?” my son yells, not even trying to hide his excitement.
“I guess so,” I say. I look at Sandra. “We have work to do here. I intend to catch my little brother and have him pay for what he did to my best friend. And I am going to need all of your help to do it.”
“Guess the 7th Street Crew is back together again, then?” Danny says.
I smile through tears.
“I guess so.”
The End
* * *
WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?
Afterword
Dear Reader,
Thank you for purchasing What Hurts the Most. I am so happy you did. This is the first in a series that I plan to write over the next many years. I am already so much in love with the characters, and I hope you are too. I am sure we’ll hear a lot more about them in the future.
My inspiration for this story was—as many times before—taken from real life stories. Many of you might have heard about the disease Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy that Mary’s mother, Penelope, suffers from. If not, you can read more here:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Munchausen_syndrome_by_proxy
It’s an awful condition and the stories online of people growing up with this are plenty. It is often overlooked because many people don’t believe a mother could do such terrible things to her child. It’s not abnormal in these cases that the victim, the child, has organs removed before the reality is discovered. You can read one of the stories that I did when researching for my book here:
http://law.justia.com/cases/california/court-of-appeal/3d/122/69.html
or here:
http://www.cbsnews.com/news/prosecutor-lacey-spears-was-calculating-in-sons-salt-poisoning-death/
Furthermore, I was inspired for the girl gang led by AK, alias Liz Hes
ter, when I stumbled over this article about a French girl gang who attacked a man and had him shop for them while humiliating him. You can read more about that here:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/france/1396136/France-in-shock-at-girl-gang-who-tortured-youth.html
Lastly, the idea of a female killer with a slit mouth asking if she is pretty is taken from an old Japanese horror story. Read about the slit-mouthed woman here:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuchisake-onna
Thanks again for all your support. Don’t forget to check out my other books if you haven’t already read them. Just follow the links below. And don’t forget to leave reviews, if you can.
Take care,
Willow
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Books by the Author
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THREE, FOUR ... BETTER LOCK YOUR DOOR (Rebekka Franck #2) - Grab your copy today
FIVE, SIX ... GRAB YOUR CRUCIFIX (Rebekka Franck #3) - Grab your copy today
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NINE, TEN... NEVER SLEEP AGAIN (Rebekka Franck #5) -Grab your copy today
ELEVEN, TWELVE... DIG AND DELVE (Rebekka Franck #6) - Grab your copy today
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RUN, RUN, AS FAST AS YOU CAN (Emma Frost #3) - Grab your copy today
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EENIE, MEENIE - Grab your copy today
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CHAIN LETTER - Grab your copy today
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EMMA FROST MYSTERY SERIES VOL 1-3 - Grab your copy today
EMMA FROST MYSTERY SERIES VOL 4-6 - Grab your copy today
EMMA FROST MYSTERY SERIES VOL 7-9 - Grab your copy today
EMMA FROST MYSTERY SERIES VOL 1-5 - Grab your copy today
DAUGHTERS OF THE JAGUAR BOX SET - Grab your copy today
THE AFTERLIFE SERIES (BOOKS 1-3)- Grab your copy today
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THE WOLFBOY CHRONICLES - Grab your copy today
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About the Author
The Queen of Scream, Willow Rose, is an international best-selling author. She writes Mystery/Suspense/Horror, Paranormal Romance and Fantasy. She is inspired by authors like James Patterson, Agatha Christie, Stephen King, Anne Rice, and Isabel Allende. She lives on Florida's Space Coast with her husband and two daughters. When she is not writing or reading, you'll find her surfing and watching the dolphins play in the waves of the Atlantic Ocean. She has sold more than a million books.
Connect with Willow online:
@madamwillowrose
willowredrose
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madamewillowrose@gmail.com
Hit the Road Jack
Excerpt
For a special sneak peak of Willow Rose's Bestselling Mystery Novel Hit the Road Jack (Jack Ryder #1) turn to the next page.
This could be Heaven or this could be Hell
~ Eagles, Hotel California 1977
Part One
DON’T COME BACK NO MORE
Chapter One
MAY 2012
She has no idea who she is or where she is and cares to know neither. For some time, for what seems like forever, she has been in this daze. This haze, in complete darkness with nothing but the sounds. Sounds coming from outside her body, from outside her head. Sometimes, the sounds fade and there is only the darkness.
As time passes, she becomes aware that there are two realities. The one in her mind, filled with darkness and pain and then the one outside of her, where something or someone else is living, acting, smelling and…singing.
Yes, that’s it. Someone is singing. Does she know the song?
…What you say?
The darkness is soon replaced by light. Still, her eyes are too heavy to open. Her consciousness returns slowly. Enough to start asking questions. Where is she? How did she end up here? A series of pictures of her at home come to her mind. She is waiting. What is she waiting for?
…I guess if you said so.
Him. She is waiting for him. She is checking her hair in the mirror every five minutes or so. Then correcting the make-up, looking at the clock again. Where is he? She looks out through the window and at the street and the many staring neighboring windows. A feeling of guilt hits her. Somehow, it seems wrong for this kind of thing to take place in broad daylight.
…That’s right!
A car drives up. The anticipation. The butterflies in her stomach. The sound of the doorbell. She is straightening her dress and taking a last glance in the mirror. The next second, she is in his embrace. He is holding her so tight she closes her eyes and breathes him in until his lips cover hers and she swims away.
…Whoa, Woman, oh woman, don't treat me so mean.
His breath is pumping against her skin. She feels his hands on her breasts, under her skirt, coming closer, while he presses her up against the wall. She feels him in his hand. He is hard now, moaning in her ear.
“Where’s your husband?” he whispers.
“Work,” she moans back, feeling self-conscious. Why did he have to bring up her husband? The guilt is killing her. “The kids are in school.”
“Good,” he moans. “No one can ever know. Remember that. No one.”
…You're the meanest old woman that I've ever seen.
He pushes himself inside of her and pumps. She lets herself
get into the moment, but as soon as it is over, she finds herself regretting it…while he zips up the pants of his suit and kisses her gently on the lips, whispering, same time next week? She regrets having started it all. They are both married with children, and this is only an affair. Could never be anything else, even if she dreamt about it. The sex is great, but she wants more than just seeing him on her lunch break. But she can never tell him. She can never explain to him how much she hates this awkward moment that follows the sex.
“They’re expecting me at the office…I have a meeting,” he says, and puts his tie back on. “I’d better…”
…Hit the road, Jack!
She finally opens her eyes with a loud gasp. The bright light hurts her. Water is being splashed in her face. She can’t breathe. The bathtub is slippery when she tries to get up. Her eyes lock with another set of eyes. The eyes of a man. He is staring at her with a twisted smile. She gasps again, suddenly remembering those dark chili eyes.
“I guess if you said so…I'd have to pack my things and go,” he sings.
“You,” she gasps. Breathing is hard for her. She feels like she is still choking. She is hyperventilating. Panicking.
The man smiles. On his neck crawls a snake. How does that old saying go again? Red, black, yellow kills a fellow? This one is all of that, all those colors. It stares at her while moving its tongue back and forth. The man is holding a washcloth in his hand. She looks down at her naked body. The smell of chlorine is strong and makes her eyes water.
“You tried to kill me,” she says, while panting with anxiety.