Chapter Two of Kill For Me

On Saturday I released chapter one of Kill For Me on the blog and had some really positive feedback, so thank you for that.

Over the weekend I listened to a podcast where they were talking about a non-fiction book which had been blogged in full before it had even been released as a book and it got me to thinking and I’ve decided to release a chapter a day until release day on Thursday. I’m at risk of breaking some of Amazon’s rules who say you can only share a certain percentage of your book but my chapters are pretty short and I’m a bit of a rebel so let’s see how it goes shall we?

Do you fancy seeing more of the book?

If you didn’t read chapter one, you can go back and read that HERE.

Kill For Me

Chapter two

‘Ms Anderson?’ The teacher was ignoring a child that was hanging on to his leg as Lucy clung to her phone, fingers tight around the device, brain screaming incoherently at her. White noise that she couldn’t make sense of.

The children in the playground blurred in front of her eyes. Her breath caught in her chest and was pressing down into her diaphragm. She couldn’t breathe. The tips of her fingers on the phone tingled. It was as though she didn’t belong in this body. The ground tilted, Lucy bent over, placed a hand on her knee in an attempt to stay upright. She sucked in air hard.

‘Is everything alright, Ms Anderson, with Faith?’ The teacher’s concern was seeping through the sound in her brain.

You will never see her again.

The pressure built up in her chest, Lucy gasped hard for air.

Mr Hughes placed a hand on Lucy’s arm, gentle and guiding. ‘Come inside, we’ll call the police.’ A quiet whisper to the child at the side of him, ‘Go and find Mrs Grainger and she’ll sort you out.’ He started to herd Lucy towards the school building. Police. He’d said police.

This jolted Lucy enough to be able to speak, to make some kind of decision, if only that she needed time to make a decision. She needed to get away from the eyes of Mr Hughes and find some space for herself. Call the number back. Talk to Faith. Know she was okay.

‘No. No. It’s fine. I sent that message then managed to get away, but then got tied up and in the mess forgot I sent my friend.’ She turned to walk away. Away from the grip of Mr Hughes. ‘I’m sorry to do this to you.’ She was taking big strides. Trying not to run, which would look suspicious after her behaviour just now. But her legs were itching to get back to her car so she could read the message again and then phone the number. It was as if there was electricity running through her.

‘If you’re sure?’ Mr Hughes voice was uncertain. ‘Ms Anderson?’ he shouted out as Lucy moved further away.

Lucy couldn’t stop herself. As she neared the gate she made a run for it. Her legs pumping hard as she flew towards her car, parked down the road. It seemed as though it was moving away from her as she bolted towards it. Then she was there and she ran into it with a body slam. Her breath hot and heavy, her throat dry, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. She opened her bag.

‘Fuck.’ Her keys were in her bag somewhere, tossed carelessly inside when she thought she’d be able to stand at the side of the road a minute searching for them with Faith at her side chattering about her morning, not like this, not in fear for Faith’s life. Her hands shook as she moved bits of paper, her purse, a lipstick, her phone, a bag of sweets.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’

A woman on the other side of the road looked across at her with disdain. This would have upset Lucy on any other day, but this was not any other day. This was the day a madman had picked up her daughter from school and was threatening to kill her.

‘Fuck.’ She cursed again, just before she wrapped her hands around her keys. Her fingers were numb, like they weren’t her own, as though someone else were controlling them. She fumbled with the lock on the car. Failing to push the key into the lock then unable to twist it. Eventually she was in. She pulled the door, threw herself inside and grabbed her phone and pulled the car door behind her at the same time.

She needed to speak to this man. She needed her daughter back. Whatever he wanted she would give him. She didn’t have much but she would give him it all to get Faith back. She pawed at the screen, opened up the messages and read them again. No police. Never see her again.

Lucy opened the car door and vomited onto the pavement, splattering sour liquid back up into her hair. The smell foul and acrid. She didn’t care. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, sticky and yellow, closed the door with a slam, the violent scent of vomit in the enclosed space barely registering as she dialled the number that had sent the text message.

She was going to get her daughter back and she would do anything to make sure that happened.

 

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