Silent Lies: A gripping psychological thriller
Page 28
Standing, I scoop up my bag and whistle to Pepper, who comes flying towards me with her ball in her mouth. ‘Come on, girl,’ I say. ‘We need to go home and pack. Then we’re going on a trip to London.’
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THE END
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If you enjoyed the jaw-dropping twists of Silent Lies, you will be gripped by Kathryn Croft’s suspenseful While You Were Sleeping.
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While You Were Sleeping
A gripping psychological thriller you just can't put down
Yesterday your life was perfect. Today you’ll find out that was all a lie.
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A gripping, shocking psychological thriller, with a twist that will take you by surprise. For fans of Gone Girl, The Girl on the Train and Behind Closed Doors.
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Tara Logan adores her perfect little family: husband, Noah, and two children, teenager Rosie and eleven-year-old Spencer.
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But her happiness is shattered when she wakes up one morning in her neighbour’s bed, with no memory of how she got there or what happened between them. And worse – he has been stabbed to death.
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Convinced she didn’t kill Lee and scared of losing everything she cares about, Tara flees home and stays silent, holding her breath as the investigation grips the neighbourhood.
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But as her daughter spirals out of control, and her husband becomes increasingly distant, Tara starts to wonder if someone in her life knows what really happened that night. When the police turn their questions towards her, Tara realises she has to find out.
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But what will it take to uncover the real story, and can she survive the truth?
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Also by Kathryn Croft
Silent Lies
While You Were Sleeping
The Girl You Lost
The Girl With No Past
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The Stranger Within
Behind Closed Doors
A Letter from Kathryn
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my sixth psychological thriller, Silent Lies – I really hope you got involved with the characters and were taken by surprise at the end! If you did enjoy it, and want to keep up-to-date with all my latest releases, just sign up at the following link. Your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.
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Sign up to Kathryn Croft’s email list
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I always thoroughly enjoy plotting and writing my books and I hope you enjoyed the ride this one took you on.
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Whether you’ve just discovered my books or have enjoyed any of my previous novels, I’m extremely grateful for your support. Reviews are so important to authors, so if you did enjoy it then I’d be extremely grateful if you could spare a moment to post a quick review to let others know your thoughts. As always, any recommendations to family and friends would also be greatly appreciated!
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It’s always wonderful to hear from readers so please feel free to contact me via Twitter, my Facebook page or directly through my website.
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Thank you again for all your support!
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Kathryn x
The Girl You Lost
A gripping psychological thriller
Eighteen years ago your baby daughter was snatched. Today, she came back.
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A sinister and darkly compelling psychological thriller from the No.1 bestselling author of The Girl With No Past.
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Eighteen years ago, Simone Porter’s six-month-old daughter, Helena, was abducted. Simone and husband, Matt, have slowly rebuilt their shattered lives, but the pain at losing their child has never left them.
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Then a young woman, Grace, appears out of the blue and tells Simone she has information about her stolen baby. But just who is Grace – and can Simone trust her?
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When Grace herself disappears, Simone becomes embroiled in a desperate search for her baby and the woman who has vital clues about her whereabouts.
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Simone is inching closer to the truth but it’ll take her into dangerous and disturbing territory.
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Simone lost her baby. Will she lose her life trying to find her?
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An exclusive extract from The Girl You Lost:
Prologue
It had been easy to get him alone. He’d played right into her hands and all she’d had to do was flash a smile at him. Laugh at his jokes. Pretend to be interested in his words.
But now they were in his flat, in a part of town she barely knew, and if she wasn’t careful, her control would slip away.
‘This is your home?’ she asked, glancing around, taking in the sparse furnishings and bare white walls. This place was a show home, with no sign that anybody lived here.
He nodded, pulling her towards him, his hand sliding down the back of her skirt. His skin was cold and she smelt whisky on his breath as he leaned towards her, his mouth fumbling for hers.
For a moment she let him kiss her; it was a small sacrifice to make in return for finding out the truth. And the truth was what she would get tonight, no matter what it took. She had vowed to herself that before this day was over she would have an answer.
‘Tell me what you meant the other day,’ she said, pressing her body against his, feeling how hard he was under his jeans.
‘Huh? What?’ He was distracted. And drunk. Not a good combination.
‘You started to tell me something. Remember?’
He took his hand from her skirt and placed it under her shirt, rubbing her breast. She tried not to flinch. She had deliberately worn a low cut denim shirt, too many buttons undone, flashing just a small section of her bra. But her effort had been unnecessary; he wouldn’t have cared if she was dressed in a bin liner.
‘Forget that,’ he slurred. ‘Come in the bedroom.’
She would have to do as he asked. Following him, she prayed things would not have to go too far. She couldn’t bear the thought of his naked body on top of her. No, she couldn’t let that happen.
The curtains were drawn in the bedroom, only a sliver of soft street lighting shining through a tiny slit in the middle. He was digging in his pocket for something, finally pulling out his mobile and tapping on it.
‘Damn it. Battery’s dead. Fuck. Can you give me your phone?’
‘Why?’ she said. ‘Who are you calling?’
‘Nobody. Just let me check something.’
Reluctantly she handed her mobile to him, waiting to see what he’d do.
‘I want to film you,’ he said, pointing her phone at her.
She stepped back towards the door. ‘What? No. Why? Stop it. Give my phone back.’ She lunged forward, trying to make a grab for it, but he whipped his arm back.
His smile dropped. ‘Take off your clothes.’
Sitting on the bed now, he kept the phone pointed at her. ‘It won’t be the same as using my camera, but you look so good I need to capture you. I can send it to my phone after.’
The thought of him having any piece of her, even just on film, filled her with horror. ‘Wait. Tell me first. Tell me what you meant. And stop filming.’ At least it was her phone; she would just make sure she deleted the video the second she got it back in her possession.
He let ou
t a heavy sigh, proving he knew exactly what she was asking. ‘Anyone would think you’re using me. That’s not nice, is it? I want something in return. Come on, play fair.’
His words were jovial but there was something in his expression, the deep lines etched on his forehead. He would not take rejection well. Perhaps she could play along for a few moments longer, let him think he was having his way.
Slowly, she undid the last few buttons on her shirt, trying to ignore the fact that he was still filming, rubbing his crotch. His eyes remained fixed on the phone screen; he was clearly more interested in watching her that way than in the flesh.
‘That’s it,’ she said, removing her shirt and placing her hands on her hips, trying to show she was still in control. ‘That’s all you get until you talk.’
Ignoring her, he lowered his arm. ‘Take everything off. And stay there. Come on, you’re wasting time. I’m losing my patience.’ He shook his head and his stare became cold, hard and unfamiliar.
That was when she realised she had made a terrible mistake. She had underestimated him. There was no way he was letting her leave until he’d done what he wanted to do.
‘That’s it, I’m out of here,’ she said. There had to be a better way to get the truth from him. Clearly this was not going to work. She began to pull her shirt back on but within seconds he had sprung up and was forcing her onto the bed, tugging at her skirt.
‘I’ve wanted you for ages,’ he said, his body weighing down on her, stopping her moving.
She struggled underneath him, but it was futile. Turning away, she wanted to scream but it died in her mouth. And then she noticed the heavy glass lamp on the bedside table. She couldn’t give up now she had come this far. ‘Just tell me what you meant the other day.’
A smug grin spread across his face, but he didn’t answer.
Trying to produce a flirtatious smile, she was unsure she was pulling it off. ‘It doesn’t have to be like this. Wouldn’t you prefer it if I enjoyed myself too? Let you do whatever you want to me? Isn’t that better?’ It was a risk. He clearly got off on the idea of using force.
But he barely moved. ‘Come on then, what are you waiting for?’
She swallowed the lump in her throat and reached for his penis, stroking it, fighting nausea. ‘You like this, don’t you?’
His eyes glazed over and he raised his head, staring at the ceiling. ‘Yeah, that’s good.’
‘Will you tell me now?’
He looked down and laughed, and she realised she probably wasn’t going to get anything out of him after all. She would have to think of a new strategy, one that started closer to home.
But then he opened his mouth and spoke, an unfamiliar name falling from his lips, seconds before he yanked up her skirt and lunged towards her.
And that was when she reached for the lamp and smashed it into his skull, repeating the action until his grip finally loosened.
The Girl With No Past
READ THE #1 BESTSELLER NOW!
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Years spent running from your past. Today it catches up.
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A gripping psychological thriller for fans of Gone Girl and The Girl on the Train.
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Leah Mills lives a life of a fugitive – kept on the run by one terrible day from her past. It is a lonely life, without a social life or friends until – longing for a connection – she meets Julian. For the first time she dares to believe she can live a normal life.
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Then, on the fourteenth anniversary of that day, she receives a card. Someone knows the truth about what happened. Someone who won’t stop until they’ve destroyed the life Leah has created.
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But is Leah all she seems? Or does she deserve everything she gets?
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Everyone has secrets. But some are deadly.
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An exclusive extract from The Girl With No Past:
Prologue
2003
Everything is silent and for a second I think I must be dead. But then I hear a deafening screech and I don’t know who or where it’s come from, I only know I haven’t made the noise because somehow I am okay. I want to turn my head to check what’s left of the wreckage, but I can’t move because pain is shooting through my neck, warm blood trickling down my face.
There is a strange smell: burnt rubber mixed with petrol and something far, far worse. The scent of death. I don’t need to look around to know that I am the only person breathing in this car.
Panic sets in, crushing my chest, worse than the physical injuries I have sustained. This can’t be real.
Cracks spread across the windscreen like a gigantic spider’s web, and through the maze of lines I can see lights, still and flashing, blue and yellow and red, and faces peering in, their mouths forming circles, trying to make sense of what’s happened. The panicky yells and shouts are muffled to me, as if I’m in a bubble, catching only waves of sound. But I know that whoever is out there, they, like I, will remember this moment for the rest of their lives.
The steering wheel digs into my ribs but I can’t move. Or perhaps I don’t want to because it’s safer in here than out there, having to face whatever is next. I know already what I can expect: some sympathy because accidents happen, but mostly blame and hatred because I am the driver so I must take the responsibility for this.
Someone manages to haul my door open and strong, uniformed arms lift me out and place me onto what must be a stretcher. It’s thin and hard but at least I am flat now. I close my eyes and wonder how it’s possible I haven’t died.
Published by Bookouture
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An imprint of StoryFire Ltd.
Carmelite House
50 Victoria Embankment
London EC4Y 0DZ
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Copyright © Kathryn Croft, 2017
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Kathryn Croft has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this work
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.
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ISBN 978-1-78681-283-4
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places and events other than those clearly in the public domain are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN 978-1-78681-283-4