Dangerous Lies(3)

“Lying, bitch. That’s all you ever were.”

My mouth opened to beg for him to let me go, but no words came out. No air escaped either. He was smothering me, and I knew what was coming next. It always happened this way.

Finally, he removed his elbow from my back, and my chest expanded, inhaling a mouth full of air before slamming his body back onto me, keeping my hands clutched in his. The telltale sound of his zipper matched the horror of his hand yanking on my panties.

“If you’re going to be a slut, then you’re going to be one for me.”



I jolted upright in my bed, my heart racing from the nightmare. Both of my hands found my head, wiping away the sweat. I fanned my shirt from my sticky skin.

My erratic breathing didn’t change the more I relived the dream. What if Martin was spying on me? I wouldn’t put it past him. I took in my surroundings, the dark room decorated in earthtones only softly lit by the bathroom light. What if he had a camera hidden somewhere? Was he tracking my cell phone? Did he have someone following my every move? He worked for his father’s successful marketing firm and had money, enough to hire a hitman if he wanted to.

I shuddered. The thought of Martin paying someone to kill me off was terrifying. Taking a deep breath, my chest expanded, then released as I let out air.

I was being outrageous. Martin was probably fucking some chick from Tinder. He’d done it while we were married. No doubt he’d find another woman to replace me. One who had no self-esteem or sense of purpose. I used to be that woman, but not anymore. I’d laid my foot down and fought back, keeping my house and half of our assets.

Nightmares weren’t going to take me down, not anymore. Squaring my shoulders, I hopped out of bed, ready to start the day, even if it were still dark out. The life of a writer, I laughed to myself.

I frowned when working crossed my mind. I hadn’t been able to keep a storyline together for the life of me. I needed something fresh, a new start, a different outlook on life.

An adventure of a lifetime, something challenging and exotic.

I glanced at my phone, a warmth spreading through my still glistening body.

NZThrillWriter: Steal of a deal on Expedia. Not even a long layover in Sydney.

The screenshot had numerous options for flights. I’d be able to financially come see him, but there were so many factors in the way.

AuthorCoraCart: Thanks for looking the fights up for me.

NZThrillWriter: Are you going to book it?

I chewed on my bottom lip. I wanted to, badly.

AuthorCoraCart: I’m meeting with Sandra in four hours. I’ll decide after I talk to her.

NZThrillWriter: Don’t let that wench decide for you.

AuthorCoraCart: That wench pays the bills. Shouldn’t you be writing?

NZThrillWriter: Shouldn’t you be sleeping?

A shiver ran down my back, remembering my awful dream. Not wanting to tell Jake about my nightmare, I opted for the real reason.

AuthorCoraCart: I’m going to write.

NZThrillWriter: It’s about time.





Chapter Three




No sentences were formed within the three hour time span I sat staring at my computer before meeting with Sandra for breakfast. It was beyond frustrating, not being able to type out a simple thought. I had even convinced myself I’d do a short story, something to get my feet wet after the few months of writer’s block. Still, nothing. The time crept up on my lack of creativity, causing me to flash through a shower and hastily throw my hair up into a bun to meet with Sandra. She’d give me a once over, turning her nose up at my jeans and basic sweater, but I didn’t care. She’d seen me at my best, and she’d really be appalled to see me in a pair of leggings and a hooded sweatshirt, my daily choice of clothing whenever Martin wasn’t around.

We agreed to meet at coffee shops since the beginning of my nasty divorce. She complied, although she thought that I was being ridiculous. I thought so too, but my lawyer insisted that if I weren’t going to be getting a restraining order, then I better not show up in routine places where he’d know I’d be. Martin hadn’t dealt with the divorce well, and the last thing I needed was for him to show up to say hi to mommy dearest and ‘accidently’ run into me.

“Corrine,” she purred, standing promptly from her chair to give me a hug. She always used my full name instead of my nickname.

Her black shift dress hugged her hips so tightly that she didn’t need to adjust the fabric when she stood. “How have you been feeling lately, darling? I’m sure a big weight has been lifted off of your shoulders since signing the final paperwork yesterday.” Her words were sincere, but inside she was devastated. Her son no longer being married didn’t fit into her fairy tale world.

I patted her back while she embraced me. “Hoping my head will clear some for a new story.”

She released me, searching my face. She was trying to read me like always. “You’ll think of something, you always do!” She squeezed my shoulders then took a seat. I followed, sitting across from her, dropping my bag by my feet. “I’d like to discuss a new contract for a three part series.”

I smiled, grateful we were getting right to business. She didn’t need to pick my brain about the absence of Martin.

“I was hoping to talk about that, too. I’ve got a few ideas, I thought maybe I could branch out of romance, give paranormal or chick-lit a try.”