We Are Not The Same: A twisted psychological suspense. by Leah Harris

Author:Leah Harris [Harris, Leah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-09T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

No lights were on inside, and she struggled to get the key in the lock. It had taken an hour and a half to get a ride and she was exhausted. She felt completely foolish. What exactly did she think she was going to do? Catch him in the act? Perform a citizen's arrest? This entire enterprise was idiotic, and she knew it. It was time to let the police handle it. Time to grow up. She stumbled through the front door, desperate to pass out in bed and let sleep wash away the events of the evening.

A dim light greeted her as she entered. The flickering of the television. The sound was barely audible, a smidgen above mute.

"Have fun?" Was it a question or an accusation?

"What are you still doing up?" She chucked her key on the counter.

"Oh, I don't know, waiting for a text from my girlfriend. Hoping she hasn't got herself into trouble." Referring to her in the third person let her know he was pissed, not that she could have missed it from his tone.

"I wanted a night out with the girls. No stress. No responsibilities. I wanted to have a bit of fun."

"What kind of fun? I was only wondering because Ellie called the house phone. She was wondering if you lost your cell again because you haven't been in touch for a while. It's just funny, considering that is who you told me you were with." He didn't look at her as he spoke. Could he not even bring himself to look her in the eye? That was probably a good thing. She couldn't handle the hurt look in his eyes. She wasn't even sure she had the energy to explain what she had actually been doing, or to spin a suitable lie.

"Who is he?" The question annoyed her for some inexplicable reason. Was it because he assumed she was seeing someone else? Like she couldn't possibly be doing something that didn't revolve around a guy. Well technically, what she was doing did revolve around a man, just not in the way he thought. Maybe the truth was the best way to go. Maybe he wouldn't be horrified to discover that she was following around a suspected serial killer.

"Anthony Harrison."

He finally looked her in the eye, a look of shock on his face as if he had been expecting resistance and more lies. "So that's who you've been with all those times? That's who you skipped work and therapy for? He must be something special." He sank back into the chair. "Well, at least now I know, I guess."

"Henr—"

"So is this... Anthony Harrison willing to be a father to another man's child? My baby? You two going to ride off into the sunset together?"

She snorted at the ludicrousness of the statement and went to explain herself. "I'm not seeing someone. It's... something else."

"What?" he asked, exasperated, small flecks of moisture coming from his mouth.

"You know I told you I went to see Oliver?"

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