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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

She laughed silently, small puffs of air from her smiling lips, as I slid my hand down her stomach. She closed her eyes and let her knees fall open. I moved to her side and explored her curves with my fingers. The skin at the top of her inner thigh drove me crazy. It was the most delicate, soft wrinkle of luxurious skin. Barely touching her, I cupped her with my palm and moved my fingers gently, rhythmically, until her breathing caught. “Tell me what I earned,” I said.

She kicked the bedspread to the edge of the bed, pushed me down, and straddled me, giving the bedspread one final kick that sent it off the edge.

She lowered her lips to my ear and whispered exactly what I wanted to hear. She dropped her weight onto me, taking me inside. We were a perfect fit. This was how we connected. Not through words—we left so many things unsaid, and words could be useless or hurtful—but this. This was everything, the beginning and the end of us.

She moved slowly. Her pleasure came first, mine after. Her eyes closed, her chin tilted up, her fingers pressing on my chest, she moaned. As her body trembled, she bit her lip, trying to not be loud, and shut her eyes hard. Her fingernails dug into my skin, giving me a shiver.

We were as close as two people could get, flesh to flesh, but in some ways, we were so far away.

Where are you, Heather? Who are you pretending to be now?

“To those people who say these cases aren’t real, they want recordings, they want access, well, first of all, there are patient confidentiality issues. Also, I don’t like the idea of using these patients. I think this population has been used quite enough.”

Doctor Clifford Paulson, PhD Psychology
Transcripts from the Sixth Annual Conference on
Adult Manifestations of Childhood Trauma

THE RADISSON PLAZA HOTEL, CINCINNATI, OHIO

6

6

HEATHER

We’d been in Hunther for seven days. The texts stopped the day after we arrived.

Someone was keeping track of me.

The thought should have terrified me, but the days had flown by with Emily constantly right there and the unpacking, the school shopping, Owen Elementary’s “Meet Your Teacher” Day, and spending time at the pool. Any downtime I had, I spent looking into my mom’s connection to Dawn Young. I’d made it to the library once, but the newspaper articles covering Dawn Young’s murder were dry and nonspecific.

I had more questions for Desiree. She was either busy or avoiding me. I couldn’t tell. The two times Emily and I had gone to Open Swim, Desiree hadn’t been working. At Emily’s second lesson, Desiree appeared seconds before the lesson and disappeared right after, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to her.

Today was Emily’s third lesson.