SORRY CAN'T SAVE YOU: A Mystery Novel by Willow Rose

Author:Willow Rose [Rose, Willow]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BUOY MEDIA
Published: 2020-10-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 34

Frank doesn’t go back to work. He stays with me, and we order a pizza for lunch, then eat together. I also order a smoothie since I can’t really chew much with my lip, so I stay mostly on a liquid diet. After finishing up, Frank makes a couple of phone calls while I clean the kitchen from this morning. I feel overwhelmed as I put the bowls in the dishwasher. I am not just in physical pain. I feel broken inside and can’t wrap myself around the fact that my husband isn’t the man I once knew. Not only has he changed drastically, but he’s become a murderer like the ones you read about in novels or watch on TV. It’s hard for me to believe that a man could change this much. Especially Ryan. But you hear the stories, right? How some women refused to see their spouses for what they really were, even some who were married to serial killers. Or stories about those who live in an abusive relationship who continuously makes excuses for them, even when they isolate them from the world and hurt them. I don’t want to end up like one of those numbers in the statistics who were killed by their husbands because they refused to see the signs. I really don’t.

Still, it is hard for me to believe it.

Look at Isabella. He shot her! Look at your face. Isn’t that proof enough? How much more do you need?

I shake my head as Frank returns from the balcony, holding his phone in his hand. He closes the sliding doors behind him, shutting out the soothing sound of the waves. It’s getting hotter out now, and the AC can barely keep up inside. I haven’t been out there all day since the bright sunlight hurts my head.

“Okay, so I spoke to the ME’s office on the mainland,” he says, looking at me pensively. “I have a colleague who works there. He told me something interesting. He said they never received Duke Marchant’s body.”

I want to grimace, but my face is in too much pain, so I sit on a dining chair instead and look up at him. The place was furnished when I rented it. I don’t care much for the flowers on the back of the chairs, but who am I to complain, right? I’m just glad to have a place to stay—a place that hopefully remains safe for the kids and me.

“What does that mean?”

“That he didn’t die,” Frank says and sits down across from me. “I then called the hospital, and a nurse told me they have him in the ICU. His wrists were cut, and he lost a lot of blood.”

I stare at him, barely blinking. “So…what you’re saying is…he’s alive? He didn’t die? I was so certain…I guess I just assumed he did because the paramedics didn’t look like they were rushing, but I could have misinterpreted that. Ha. So that means…he can talk to the police,

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