THE PENANCE LIST
(Book I of THE DAVID TRILOGY)
Chapters 20 - 38
Chapter Twenty
Tara crashed into the flat, kicked off her toe-scrunching shoes, dropped her keys onto the hall shelf, and dumped her briefcase on the floor... home sweet home! Flicking the lights on, she scanned and ignored the junk mail scattered on the floor... no bills for a change, phew!
Franco had an away game, so he was staying overnight at a hotel with the rest of the team. She had a night to herself.
“Shit, I’m tired,” she announced to the living room as she flung herself on the sofa and swung her tired legs up onto the soothing cushions.
“What a day,” she needed a glass of wine, a hot bath and some mind-numbing telly, to catch up on all the soaps. Bliss…
SNAP…
A short sharp snap came from the kitchen. She jumped up listening hard; not quiet believing it could finally be over. Was that psycho-mouse? She recognized the sound; she’d nearly lost her fingers to it a few times, whilst setting those damn Henry VIII-like traps. They had been playing cat and mouse for weeks now; every time she came home from work she would find more droppings and more bait missing. It had become a personal challenge, a war.
He’d managed to avoid all her traps. He would cheekily kick shut the traps and sneak off with the cheese, walk around the glue traps, munch through the poison pellets, and ignored the high-pitch ultra-sonics plugged all over the flat. He’d munched through a whole bar of chocolate (dragged it behind the TV), a bag of fruit and nuts and a bumper pack of nachos. He ran at speed across the tops of curtains and paintings, with dare-devil leaps and bounds (probably the sugar rush from the chocolate). He was psycho-mouse.
Her heart sunk; how sad, he was finally dead. She’d come to respect her worthy opponent, she would miss him... god, I’m pathetic, it’s a mouse, get over it! She took tentative steps across the living room, dreading the scene she was about to see.
Tap, tap, tap… a noise emanated from the kitchen.
“Oh my God, he’s still alive…fuck!”
Tap, tap, tap…
She imagined him dragging the trap by his neck around her kitchen floor, blood spurting everywhere, a terrible crime scene... get the luminol officer!
She backed off and waited anxiously on the edge of the sofa for the noise to stop, cringing at every ‘tap’ of his struggle.
She felt sick, where was a man when you needed one. This was definitely an occasion for a male to be in situ, along with opening tight jam jars, emptying bins, and sussing out night-time prowler noises. God, she felt so cruel, she hadn’t thought about what she would do when the little thing was actually caught.
Silence.
He must be dead. Peering into the kitchen, expecting a blood bath, she saw him. His pathetic tiny brown frame pinned to the trap. No blood, just a small stain on the wood beneath his head. He looked so small, not at all the gladiator she’d come to imagine. He’d bravely dragged the trap to the middle of the room; he’d tried... bless him.
Now for the clean-up... urrgh! Well, she just had to get on with it... come on girl. Jumping over him to get to the cupboard, she pulled out a bin liner, rubber gloves, and a BBQ prong. She took a deep breath, crouched down and stretched out her arm as if dealing with a huge beast, the prong touched the trap, his tiny body wobbled... shit.... urrgh!
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THE PENANCE LIST Complete, Steamy Psycho Thriller
غموض / الإثارةWith his childhood stolen, a target on his back, and time running out, he's ready to stand for the boy he once was and make those who honed him into a killer, pay. His sex is served hard, his revenge cold, and his redemption uncertain. A provocative...
