by Fisher, Kari
I break free from Oliver’s arms and lunge at Tara. I am at her throat, squeezing with all of my strength. Her eyes roll back inside her head and Oliver fights to pull me off of her. I step back, releasing her from my grip.
“That’s enough,” Oliver pleads.
I nod.
He lets me go, and turns to walk back into the room we were peacefully sharing until this witch showed up.
“Whore,” Tara whispers. She’s kneeling on the ground, holding her throat.
I grab a knife from Oliver’s nightstand and I am at her again. The cold metal pierces the skin of her stomach, leaving her curled up in a bloody heap on the floor.
“Lauren!” Oliver calls out.
I’m out in the parking lot, wearing only my panties. I’m running towards the vehicle and Oliver is chasing after me.
“Lauren,” he breathes, when he finally catches up. I can see his breath. I want to taste his lips.
“Sorry, Oliver, I had to do it. We don’t need to worry about her interfering in our life anymore,” I explain.
“Lauren, you killed her! This is bad. We need to turn ourselves in.”
“Are you kidding? They’re going to arrest me.”
“We can say it was self-defense, Lauren. We need to call the police. And an ambulance. Maybe she’s still alive,” he begs.
“It wasn’t self-defense. I had a weapon; she did not. We aren’t calling the police. We aren’t calling an ambulance. Get in the car. Let’s go,” I demand.
Oliver takes his phone from his pocket. With hands trembling, he begins to dial.
“What are you doing?” I scream.
“Calling an ambulance. We need to get her help.”
“We are doing no such thing!” I yell. I’m certain my face is bright red. I am angry, naked and cold. “Get in the car.”
“Hi, operator—” Oliver is on the phone.
I knock the phone from his hand and it shatters on the ground.
“Get the fuck in the car!” I yell. I realize I’m still holding the knife in my hand. I am pointing it at him, and he steps back. “Get in the car, Oliver.”
He obeys, slowly climbing into the driver’s seat. He starts the car and sits for a minute, just staring at me.
“Drive,” I command.
“Okay.”
I look back at the motel. It looks quiet and desolate. I doubt anyone will notice Tara for several hours, giving us plenty of time to get a head start. Soon we’ll be far away from all of this, able to forget this ever happened.
The highway feels lonely. There’s nothing but trees and a few tiny towns; none of which I’d actually like to live in. Especially now, after what happened with Tara—they’d be looking for us.
Right on cue, I begin to see flashing lights up ahead and I squirm in my seat.
“What’s going on?” I ask Oliver.
“Probably just an accident or something.”
“You didn’t actually dial the number for the police, did you?” I ask. Oliver’s long pause doesn’t leave me feeling very confident about this situation.
“No,” Oliver replies quietly.
“Turn the car around, Oliver.”
“That will look suspicious. It must be an accident.”
“Turn the car around.”
“I’m not turning the car around,” Oliver says, raising his voice this time.
“Goddammit, Oliver,” I whisper.
The road is blocked off and Oliver slows the car to a crawl. He stops it completely just feet away from officers with their guns drawn, and he reaches for the door handle.
“You’re going to regret this, Oliver.”
“I’m so sorry, but Tara—” he whimpers. His words trail off as though he’s not sure what to say.
I step out of the car with my hands up, dropping the knife to the ground.
“Lauren Blue, keep your hands where I can see them. You are under arrest.” The words are spoken on a loudspeaker and I can’t tell where they’re coming from. I’m surrounded by at least a dozen police officers.
They’ve got Oliver. They have him pushed up against his car and they are cuffing his wrists behind him.
I drop to my knees.
A burly male officer holsters his weapon and steps towards me.
I grab the knife by my feet and lunge at him, holding it above my head and thrusting violently.
Another male officer takes several steps in my direction and extends his arms, pointing his gun directly at me. The sleeve of his dark blue uniform is pushed up just enough that I can clearly see the tattoo of a cross on his forearm.
“Drop the knife, Lauren Blue. You need to listen to me. I don’t want to hurt you,” the officer shouts, his gun steady in his hands.
I turn to run, with the knife still in my hand.
I hear several gun shots but I know exactly which one hits me.
Everything goes black.
I remember the exact moment I lost my mind.
Acknowledgments
Chris and Milena, you are my world and I love you both so, so much. Mom and Dad: thank you from the bottom of my heart. Justin Bezaire, thank you for working with me! You are incredibly talented. Thank you so much to everyone who has supported me throughout all of this. It has been an amazing adventure and I could not have done this without you.
About the Author
Kari Fisher is an author, poet and dog groomer who has made Northern Ontario her home. She is a fan of many different types of literature and music, and spends her days shaving dogs or writing while sipping coffee, which she is hopelessly addicted to. She holds a blue belt in Taekwondo and has run a marathon. Kari loves food, and so does her cat, NyQuil. On Facebook, you’ll often read her frustrating rants about how NyQuil has gotten into something again—last night he opened a kitchen cupboard and ate through a box of stovetop stuffing while Kari slept.
Kari was raised in Rouyn-Noranda, Quebec, and studied Psychology at Champlain Regional College in Sherbrooke, Quebec, before settling down in Northern Ontario, where she met her fiancé, Christian. In 2013, Kari and Christian welcomed a beautiful little girl named Milena. Milena loves books and bedtime stories already. In 2014, Kari self-published her debut novel, Through Glass, which is being re-released through Limitless Publishing.
Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/karifisherbooks
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/kfisherauthor
Goodreads:
http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/39058878-kari-fisher