Carroll Sinful Confessions

Inaugural Secrets
1. Auflage 2016
ISBN: 978-1-4835-6677-1
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 206 Seiten

Who would YOU call to help cover up a murder? In this explosive, emotionally charged debut novel,Natasha Taylor shoots her adulterous husband and sets a domino effect of disastrous events in motion. Suspicion lurks at every turn, and no one can be trusted. Just how far will a betrayed wife, a vengeful brother, and a conniving attorney go? Sinful Confessions: Inaugural Secrets is a heart-pounding drama that explores just how twisted things can get when one person's revenge turns into another's advantage.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Carroll, Joe

Leseproben

Chapter 1

“Hey. It’s, um…It’s me. I just wanted to make sure you were all right after what happened up there. It would be good to know that you’re still alive. And, umm…Yeah. Call me back if you can. Bye.”

Natasha Taylor pulled the phone away from her ear and pressed the END button, noticing that there was blood smudged on the screen. Disgusted, she threw it on the pool table and looked to her dead husband’s body that lay by the front door. She was sure that the same voice she had just heard on her husband’s voicemail was from the same woman that had just ruined her marriage…and caused Natasha to take her husband’s life.

Just hours before, Natasha walked in on her husband having sex with what she could only assume was a dancer or waitress that worked in the Board’s Fortune, a casino that she and Marcus co-owned with his half-brother, Brooks, that once belonged to their deceased father. Because they owned the casino, she and Marcus also lived in one of the casino’s extravagant penthouse suites. This proved to be convenient at times, but would also prove to be a bit overwhelming for Natasha. She knew that she was only an elevator ride away from work, always available at a moment’s notice. She didn’t mind, sometimes. Work kept her occupied. Since she didn’t have to pay rent for living in the casino, she was free to spend her money as she wished. On this particular night, she was returning from her shift and was under the impression that her husband would be away with his brother for the evening. She never expected to find him, in their bed, with another woman.

She also never expected to kill him.

After catching them in the act, Natasha pulled her gun out, threatening both her husband and the woman as they both stood in front of her, both still sweating and breathless from the act. She finally forced the woman to leave and demanded Marcus to leave with her. Marcus begged her to let him stay, but she wasn’t having it, and insisted that he left immediately. And he did. Having this time alone had allowed her to contemplate what she would do once he returned. She expected that he was chasing after the woman that she had just put out of their apartment, but wasn’t sure what to believe, still in shock at what she had just witnessed.

She especially didn’t expect him to return to their home later that evening, bleeding, having seemingly been shot or stabbed while he was away. Though initially concerned, she was too mad to care. She wished whomever had done it would have finished the job so she didn’t have to.

Natasha couldn’t believe she had actually done it. The echo of the gunshot was still ringing in her ear. Her husband’s lifeless body lay about 30 feet away from her, just inches from their front door. A small puddle of blood began to form around him and spread on the hardwood floor entryway.

Natasha looked down as her hands began to shake and thought about where she placed the gun. She looked over and realized she left it on the pool table where she threw the phone and stepped away from it, as if putting distance between herself and the weapon would acquit her from the crime she had just committed. Her eyes returned to her husband’s body, and she inched towards it, cautious not to make any noises or sudden movements as she crept nearer.

“Marcus,” Natasha whispered.

The body on the floor didn’t move. Natasha took another step forward and moved around to the side of his body, halfway hoping to catch him breathing.

He wasn’t.

“Marcus,” she said louder.

Marcus continued to lie motionless on the floor. She looked down and became aware of how close she was getting to the growing puddle of blood that was starting to inch its way closer into the living room.

She stared down at him for a moment and wondered what she would do next. Would she call the police? Surely, she would be taken to jail immediately once they arrived on the scene. Maybe she would tell them that her husband was murdered and she walked in to discover him on the ground. Would they believe her?

She knew they wouldn’t. She had seen enough television to know that in these situations, a murderer is almost always brought to justice. Calling the police is something she definitely shouldn’t do.

Natasha began to tremble. Here she was in her early thirties and had never committed a crime of any kind, much less killed anyone. She knew that she would immediately go to jail for killing Marcus, but how badly would things go if she were to be caught trying to get rid of his body? Should she? He was her husband after all. He at least deserved the dignity of a decent burial. Didn’t he?

She continued to stare at his inert body. Though time seemed to stand still, she knew she didn’t have much time before someone would come knocking at her door. It was a gunshot, for goodness sake. That’s not something one can easily mistake for something else. The security in the casino was tight, and she was sure that one or more of her security staff would soon be knocking at her door.

Natasha ran her hands through her hair, frantically thinking of ways that she would be able to move Marcus’ body without more blood being spilled about the room. She first needed to find a way to stop the blood from spreading. Should she just let him continue to bleed out? Or stop the mess before it became too big for her to clean up?

She moved to a nearby closet and grabbed a few towels. She frowned as she thought about ruining them, but the thought quickly dissipated once she saw the puddle was growing larger. She stepped back up to where Marcus’ body lay and hesitated; she had never touched a dead body before, and much to her dismay, the first one she was about to touch was her dead husband’s.

There wasn’t time to grieve. She knew that if she waited too long, she would eventually be caught. Even if she couldn’t get rid of his body, she knew that he needed to be moved. If someone were to show up, she wouldn’t even be able to open the door all the way without it hitting Marcus’ foot.

Still holding the towels, Natasha squeamishly tossed one down and used her foot to begin wiping away the puddle, keeping as far away as she could and being mindful to not touch Marcus’ body with her leather boot, not as though he could say anything about it.

Once the first towel was full of blood and was making more of a mess than it was cleaning, she tossed down the second towel and repeated her actions. Her heart was racing as she watched the 2nd towel absorb the evidence of her crime.

Her mind immediately went back to Brooks again. If she didn’t say anything, Marcus’ disappearance wouldn’t go unnoticed for very long until Brooks would begin to wonder.

Seeing that a majority of the blood had been wiped away and with no worry of it spreading into other areas in the home, Natasha went to retrieve her phone. She stared at it. What would she say?

Nothing. She’s going to say nothing.

She tossed her phone, along with her keys, into the handbag. Lastly, she moved to place the gun into the handbag with the previous items, but stopped and held it close to her face, staring at her reflection beyond the fingerprint smudges on the chrome handle. She woefully recalled the moment her husband gave her this present just years before, both of them not knowing that this would be the same tool that would lead to the cause of his death. This was his fault. Not in giving her the gun, but what he did that caused her to use it. She thought back once again about him on top of whoever that woman was who was in her bed just hours before, hearing the woman pant and moan while she watched her husband give himself to her and vice versa. Marcus brought this on himself. Thinking about this made Natasha’s blood boil all over again.

But she needed to focus.

She tossed the gun into her handbag and closed it. With her heart still racing, she made her way for the door, but stopped again at the sight of her dead husband lying at her feet. She looked down at him, examining his body and finally began to wonder: who had shot Marcus first? Could it have been the woman from earlier? Had she not known that Marcus was married and had shot him out of a jealous rage?

Natasha placed her free hand over her face and shook her head furiously. The emotions began to mix within her, feelings of anger and rage, jealousy, sorrow and lastly…regret. This wasn’t the moment to have a breakdown and she knew that. She needed a plan. She knew that no matter what decision she made, she was in too deep to call the police but she knew she couldn’t stay in her home any longer. She needed to leave, and not be seen, which would prove to be her greatest conflict. She thought about which exits she would take and how she would avoid any of her staff seeing her exit the building. It was going to be a challenge, but she forced herself to keep a clear head so that she wouldn’t continuously become distracted...