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Back Confess to Me Save as PDF
Chapters (87)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Sharon Doering
  3. Title Page
  4. Dedication
  5. Prologue
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. 72
  78. 73
  79. 74
  80. 75
  81. 76
  82. 77
  83. 78
  84. 79
  85. Author’s Note
  86. Acknowledgements
  87. About the Author

Heat hung low in the air, warming my neck as I stepped out of my truck and walked up to Marjory’s. This was the first time she’d asked me to pick her up after her shift. If our relationship hadn’t been official before, it was now.

Bells chimed as I opened the door to Marjory’s.

It was slow, as usual for a Sunday evening. Two booths full with families, two tables outlined with kids from school. A waitress working the tables.

Dawn was at the counter, leaning over and drawing something on a napkin for some guy. He had finished eating and was studying her as she drew. His plate was mostly empty. He had eaten his sandwich and left the crust. He was old to be watching her like that, watching her mouth, his eyes dipping down to her breasts. He was maybe twenty-five, thirty. My stomach burned and my jaw clenched.

She slid the napkin across the counter and smiled at him. He put it in his shirt pocket, stood, opened his wallet, and slid cash across the counter, said something that made her laugh. She went to grab the money, but he held onto it, teasing her. She laughed, yanked it away, and headed to the register.

The back of my neck burned.

The asshole headed to the restroom.

He’s just some guy. She’s being nice to a customer—nothing wrong with that.

On her way to the register, she met eyes with some other guy at the counter, patted his hand, and continued on. I felt a twitch deep in my head, like gears tripping. What the hell? Did she flirt with everybody? The guy touched the back of his hand to his mouth. Maybe wiping food away, maybe inhaling her scent. I wanted to knock him down too.

He looked around, kind of nervous, like he’d done something wrong.

It was Rodney Hornne. I knew him from school.

Dawn happened to glance up. “Trevor,” she said, smiling around my name. No guilt. There had been no guilt on her face, no shame, no flash of embarrassment.

I swallowed, but my mouth felt dry.

Two days later, Dawn would be dead.

57

57

HEATHER

I put the wrapped sushi in my refrigerator. I peeled off my damp clothes and took a hot shower to counter the coldness I felt in my bones. I stood under the harsh spray too long, grateful to be alone, to not worry about using up all the hot water. I dried my hair even though it would get wet again, and was out the door again with my umbrella. Rain drummed, and the sky was the color of a filthy washrag. It was still summer, but there was a touch of cold to this September rain.

Walking up to my house was my friendly deer-jerky-gifting neighbor. His timing was beyond comparison. Seriously. Was Tracy always out walking?