Forgive Me by Kateri Stanley (love letters to the dead txt) 📗

lay before him, unwrapped like a present. Her naked body was more beautiful in real life than it was in his imagination.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

She nodded and he unbuttoned his pants, casting his clothes to the floor. He felt his insecurities flood his mind as Stripe watched him, observing his physique. She ran her fingers up along his tattooed arm, caressing the bumps and scars hidden by painted trees and streams. A tribute to the motherly comfort of the forests, his first home after he escaped.

Isaac moved timidly, lying over her like a blanket, their lips uniting once again. He hooked her leg over his hip. He laid a trail of kisses along her neck and grabbed her breast as she squirmed in pleasure. He kissed her between her legs, tasting the sweet nectar. He smiled in triumph as she moaned, her fingers wrapping deep into the bed sheets.

“Are you really sure you want to do this?” Isaac asked softly. “It's okay if you don't.”

Stripe nodded again and Isaac kissed her lips. He ran his fingers through her hair and his other hand entwined in her fingers, pushing her deeper into the bed. She gasped as he entered her but it wasn't from pain. The sensations were overwhelming. Isaac let himself become lost in her skin, in her love, in her everything.

The sound of the rain shook her awake, the Night Scrawler and Peter fogging into pale mist. Stripe turned over, feeling a body by her side and watched Isaac sleep. His breathing was mild and steady, there was a reflection of peace on his face. As if their recent actions had melted secret tortures and fears he’d been trying to supress. It was bizarre, only the day before, she'd been chained to this bed she was now sharing with her kidnapper and her high school sweetheart.

She moved off the bed, Isaac didn't stir and she kept her treading light. She slid into her clothes that were strewn from their passion. The stench of the vomit from before made her heave but she pushed past the smell and crept out of the bedroom. Something in her gut twisted. Snap out of it. And move your ass. She listened to the voice and found her keys and the photo from the bunker, tucking it under her arm. She opened the front door, watching it swing open without effort. She glanced back at the bedroom, there was no figure watching her, only silence

Stripe stepped over the threshold, the trees around the house were dripping with rainwater. She was leaving all of her equipment behind; she couldn’t bring it with her or else he’d wake up. She’d tell Carla they broke whilst she was interviewing Isaac, by the time she got home to write, the damage had been done. She’d pencil something when she was safe, tapping out a couple of pages, she had plenty of material in her mind to wrap something together. Stripe got to her car and threw the photo on the backseat. Her phone screen was crowded with worried texts from Beverley and Carla. She’d phone to reassure them when she had distance in her favour. Stripe put the key in the ignition, wrapping her aching fingers around the steering wheel. Breathe. She took a final look at the house. I’m sorry, Isaac. She started the car and drove away.

Chapter Nineteen

Summer 2017

Anna Crawford stooped over her research paper. She was driving herself crazy with headings, indexes, formatting, word counts and there was probably some other important academic bravado she needed to add. Her head was beginning to fog, pulsing with a dull ache. Her eyes twitched, switching between the computer screen and her text books. High school could not end sooner. She needed a mental health break. If she kept on working, she’d have to deal with a monster of a migraine. She heard the popping sounds from the kitchen and went to retrieve her popcorn, hoping the salty buttered goodness would inspire some relief and encouragement.

Her parents had gone out to a glitzy charity soiree. She was home alone, again. Anna loved the freedom; she was eager to experience the college life, to have the ability to explore and do things without the consent of her parents. Her brother Patrick used to go on all sorts of trips across the country and she envied him. She didn't want to be cooped up in a little town to be destined for some rich executive. Safety and salary were a valuable thing to her parents.

Anna grabbed her snack. The phone rattled from the wall in the hallway noisily. It made her jump. Her friend pretended to do the scary phone voice from the movie, Scream.

“That's not funny, Tammy,” she replied. “You do realise there's an active serial killer out there.”

Even though her parents were trying their best to shield her from the hideousness of the real world, they couldn't cage every detail from slipping through the cracks. News had gone viral now. Kids talked to each other, kids used technology, infiltrating the power of the big blue internet. At the touch of a screen, kids could find things out. Three school girls, similar age to Anna had been murdered during a sleepover. They all attended a school not too far from her home.

“Damon said the girls were hacked to pieces,” Tammy said. “The killer wrote words on the wall in their blood!”

Anna’s stomach performed an acrobatic flip. “Do we really have to talk about it? I’m trying to finish my paper.”

“Have you not heard the news?” Tammy asked, slightly perplexed.

“No, why?”

“There’s been another murder, another couple like the Craigs.”

They chatted for a little while longer, mostly Anna listening to Tammy gushing about Damon Wiggins, from his tongue piercing to his red and black motorcycle. She wasn’t sure if he was a suitable companion for her friend. She heard he dabbled in the occasional illegal drug, smoking certain green plants she couldn’t say out