The Serial Killer's Wife by Alice Hunter (best romantic novels to read .txt) 📗

She turned to the side, backing up until she was pinned against the wall. ‘Eh? Well, am I?’

His spit felt damp on her cheek. She closed her eyes tight; she didn’t dare speak.

‘Fucking hell! Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? Aren’t you going to even try and explain? Say sorry? Beg for forgiveness?’

Still, Katie remained silent. Her refusal to engage when Tom was shouting at her made his anger spike. He pushed away from her, flinging her mobile across the floor. Katie let out a shuddering sob.

‘What are you crying for? I’m the one who should be upset. I’m the one you’ve lied to. Cheated on. After everything I’ve given you. All I’ve done for you. You ungrateful bitch!’ Tom launched towards her again, his right hand raised. The blow caught Katie on her left cheek. Pain exploded from it, causing white sparks to flitter in front of her eyes.

‘Please …’ she whimpered. She slid down the wall into a crouching position, cradling her already swelling face.

‘I don’t want to hurt you, Katie. I love you. You know full well I love the bones of you. But how could you betray me like this? With him?’ Tom moved away and reached for the discarded phone. ‘What is this?’ He shoved the mobile up to her face again. ‘Read it,’ he demanded. ‘Go on! Read that bit of the fucking message out loud. Let me hear you say it.’ Tom jabbed his finger at the screen – at the last part of the text.

‘I don’t … want … to,’ Katie said. Her voice was thick with tears. Fear.

‘Read. It.’ His voice was low, menacing.

Katie did as she was told.

‘You … mean the world to me—’ Katie gave a hiccupping sob, then sucked in her breath, trying to continue, ‘—you know that … And after the other night, I thought things might have changed.’

Tears streamed down her red, bloated face.

‘I don’t need to ask what he means, do I? It’s obvious. Am I not man enough for you, or something? You look like you enjoy sex with me. Surely it can’t be that?’

Katie shook her head, her eyes lowered. She didn’t want to see his anger. She dared not say that sex with Tom sometimes scared her; that it could be too intense. Too rough.

Tom lunged for her, grabbed her under the arms and hauled her into a standing position. Then he dragged her, like a ragdoll, into the bedroom. He threw her onto the mattress.

‘You’re going to have to be punished for this. You do realise that? I can’t just forgive and forget this betrayal, Katie.’

Katie lay on her back, her eyes screwed up. She should fight. Run. Scream. Anything.

But she couldn’t move. If she just let him hurt her – get it out of his system – maybe it would be quick. Then she could make her escape afterwards.

***

TOM

I’d held it all in for as long as I was able. But it’s always been the case that when the red mist descends, there is little I can do to stop it; something deep inside of me takes over. It doesn’t happen very often. Probably just as well.

I scrolled through Katie’s messages again, finding the ones from him. For a split second I wondered if I’d overreacted; read too much into them. Then, like a nagging eye twitch, the voice inside my head told me I’d been right. They’d been planning on going behind my back.

Chapter 57

BETH

Now

I drove home in a daze, not thinking about Tom, the visit or his trial. Those thoughts flood my brain now, though, as I sit on my bed. I don’t feel capable of anything – all my energy has been zapped. Lying down and pulling the duvet over my clothed body, I shut my eyes against the brightness of the sunshine blazing through the window. Tom’s face hovers behind my closed lids, his features distorted with worry. Desperation radiates from his eyes as they plead with mine – just as they had the day I confronted him.

‘Tom, why have you got Katie’s email account on your iPad?’ I’d asked him when Poppy was in bed that evening. My heart hammered as I waited for an answer. I saw the tell-tale flicker of panic cross his face; caught the distinct bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard. I waited for him to give me an elaborate explanation – something benign; a simple reason. But it didn’t come. Instead, Tom’s face crumpled he dropped down on the sofa as though he could no longer hold his body weight up. And he cried.

After a while, he calmed down enough to begin explaining. He didn’t even try to lie. He told me everything and I listened in complete silence, too stunned to interrupt. It’d been an accident, he said, the repercussions of which had spiralled out of control – first one lie to cover up what he’d done, followed by another to cover the first, then another and another. I wanted to scream at him to stop talking – whatever he was going to tell me couldn’t be unsaid. His mistakes couldn’t be undone. I didn’t say a word, though. I let him continue his story. It was as though I was listening to a radio play; fiction. Or someone else’s life.

Tom spoke of how he’d momentarily lost control – he was jealous when he found out Katie had cheated on him. He’d only been trying to stop her from leaving the flat – he’d wanted to discuss it, to try and make things right. He’d thrown the paperweight at her from a distance – he hadn’t even meant for it to hit her, only to act as a warning. It was supposed to be a shock, to give her pause and to give him enough time to put up a good argument as to why they should stay together, work things out. He’d told her he’d forgive her for her error of