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Back One White Lie Save as PDF
Chapters (59)
  1. COVER
  2. About the Author
  3. DEDICATION
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY
  54. FIFTY-ONE
  55. FIFTY-TWO
  56. FIFTY-THREE
  57. FIFTY-FOUR
  58. Acknowledgments
  59. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

I saw myself rushing to the bathroom and lifting the bottle, smashing it into my own cheek. Taking a photo of my bruise when it had appeared the next day. I knew I’d broken an unspoken agreement between us. He called the shots, I followed the rules. I knew he’d want to punish me, I knew he’d want to destroy anything I still cared about, destroy me, but I knew that Davis put appearances above all. I knew that if he did find me, that photo would be my only chance to stop him …

I let the lamp clatter to the ground, shaking my head.

I couldn’t put it off any longer. I had to leave now, before Rachel made her next move.

I rushed back into the living room, making my way through the destruction until I found my purse, tossed aside near the front door. Dusty was still whimpering, cowering beneath the sofa.

‘I’m sorry, baby,’ I said. ‘We’ll go soon.’

There was a knock at the door, jolting me.

Digging in my purse, I pulled out my phone, keyed in 911, ready to dial it if needed. Then I went to the bedroom, grabbed my dad’s hammer, the only thing I had to protect myself.

Pulse pounding, mucus thick in my throat, I crept to the window, nudged back the drapes, expecting to see Rachel, to lift the hammer overhead if I had to …

But the phone, the hammer, clattered to the ground.

It wasn’t Rachel.

It was Detective McKnight.

Penguin walking logo

FIFTY-THREE

The cold air snapped at me as I stepped onto the porch and quickly shut the door behind me.

My heart beat furiously – had Rachel called McKnight so quickly, told him what she knew? That I’d killed Vera? That self-defense was a tenuous excuse, that Vera wasn’t the type to attack? Not physically, at least.

McKnight nodded to the door.

‘It’s a wreck in there,’ I said, spitballing. ‘Dusty’s been sick and, well, grief, you know.’

He shrugged. ‘You’re not cold?’

I finished buttoning my coat, which I’d slipped on quickly before opening the door. ‘I’m fine. How can I help you?’

He cleared his throat and leaned against the side of my cottage, taking me in. It had stopped snowing, but the sun was on its way to setting soon, the air getting even cooler.

Finally, he stood up straight, pulled a folder out from beneath his arm. ‘I hate to have to do this …’

My mouth went dry, any security I’d had quickly slipping away.

This isn’t over.

I swallowed, knowing that these were the last moments of freedom I’d have. I thought of Dusty, inside, probably still hiding beneath the sofa. Who would take care of him when I was gone? Who would love him like I did?