This is part 3 of Friday fiction, I’m really enjoying seeing where it will go each week. The prompt is “A lie is told”
You can find part 1 & 2 here:
I turned around and vomited on the hardwood floor. I looked back at Damien’s eyes- the terror made me heave. I ran back into the kitchen, turned on the taps. I splashed water on my face, tried to collect myself. The sinking realisation of what just happened made my stomach churn again. He went too far. Firion knew Damien wasn’t involved. Just used him to play this sick game with me. I had to go, keep moving. I ran to the press in the hall, grabbed two towels. I made myself go back into the bedroom, my eyes staying on the ground. I wiped the floor up, didn’t want there to be any sign I was there. I could feel the perspiration rolling down my skin, my hands stinking of my vomit. I pulled my dress and tights off. I went to the bathroom and scrubbed at my hands and arms. I washed my face looking in the mirror and all I can see behind me is red.
I walked towards the wardrobe. Ignoring the bloody message I used the towel to open it up. I grabbed a hoody and some sweats. I only had my boots on so I had to put two pairs of socks on my feet and tie some of Damien’s sneakers on tight. I tried to scrub the message off the mirror. It didn’t wipe clear but it became illegible. I threw my clothes and the towels into a black sack. I looked back at Damien one last time. “I’m so sorry” I whispered, mostly to myself. I grabbed the takeout bag too. I walked out the back door and out the side gate. I put up my hood and walked up the small lane that brought you to the town. Along the lane there is a field where locals come to dump their rubbish instead of paying for it. I threw the sack into the field and kept walking. Damien didn’t deserve this. All he tried to do was care for me. When I got to the end of the lane I dialed my phone.”Police please… Yes I think I can hear screaming from my neighbour’s house. It’s 10 Washington Lane.” I hung up the phone as I spotted a small corner bar.
“Bottle of beer, thanks.” The barman looked at me for a second then fetched my drink. He knew better than to ask. I sat at the end of the bar, sipping from my bottle. The door swung open and Elena walked in. In her designer dress and heels she stuck out like a sore thumb. At first she didn’t cop me, I pulled down my hood and she power walked over. The barman came over.”Oh, a glass of rose please.” He snorted “We don’t do wine.” She furrowed her brow “Oh, ok em a.. gin & tonic please.” The barman shuffled off while she sat down beside me. “Morgan, what happened? Why are you dressed like that and why on earth are we meeting here?” I took a swig of my bottle. “How did you get on at the bookstore?” Elena thanked the barman for her drink. She frowned and took a hesitant sip. “I went over after I dropped you. The manager said their CCTV has been out of action for almost two months. They said the place is so quiet they hadn’t bothered to fix it. Can you believe that? The one time they do have trouble and the cameras aren’t even recording.” She took another sip. I’ve never seen her so annoyed. “It doesn’t matter now.” I downed the rest of my bottle. ” Damien is dead.”
We started driving. I found a b&b 10 miles outside of the town.”I think we have to go to the police, Morgan. This has gone too far.” I ignored her, kept driving. Elena was only in our family two years. She hadn’t seen the things I seen. She didn’t know what Firion was capable of. Or who he had on his side. “We should at least think about cancelling London. If he is as dangerous as you say, if he has killed someone maybe we shouldn’t be thinking of leaving the country!” We pulled up to the b&b, grabbed our cases from the boot, and checked in. As soon as we were in the bedroom, I got in the shower and stood under the hot water. It shook my system. I started to cry, sob as my body shook. After a short while I pulled myself together and got out. I wrapped a towel around me and went in to the room. “Going to jump in, won’t be long!” Elena chirped, back to her usual self. I heard the water start, then her humming. I pulled on one of my own tracksuits, the only one I packed. I went to lay down on the bed as my phone rang. I jumped, with surprise and fear. I didn’t recognise the number. I swallowed hard.
“Is that Morgan? I’m sorry to call you but I’ve been trying Elena and her phone is off.”
“I’m sorry, who is this?”
“It’s Mr. Williams. From The Private Nook. The bookstore? I was expecting you both over an hour ago, just checking you’re still coming?”
If you want to have a go, please feel free to check out Ronovan’s page!