Stitched by Cheryl Elaine

Author:Cheryl Elaine [Elaine, Cheryl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-01-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Andy hadn’t slept a wink. He’d drunk heavily for most of the night and hostility started to take over every rational thought. He was on a path of destruction and couldn’t rein in his temper. He felt as though he’d lost the plot. He lashed out, trashing the household furniture. It was as if the Incredible Hulk had possessed his body.

He lifted the chair and tossed it across the room, followed by ornaments—and anything else he could get his hands on. Frantically, he searched every shelf, drawer and cupboard, looking for some clue as to Emily’s whereabouts. I will find you, Emily. He reached for some comfort and grabbed a bottle of whiskey in his hand. Displeased that there were only a few mouthfuls left swishing around the bottom, he took a final swig before throwing the bottle at the wall. It smashed into tiny pieces and the dregs dribbled down the wall.

His mind was working overtime. He was infuriated by the whole situation. Where could she be? How can she disappear without a trace? It’s impossible. His mind told him that Emily was selfish, that she didn’t appreciate everything he’d given her over the years. The ungrateful bitch . . . and still she’s run away without a word. Andy knew one thing for sure: Emily wouldn’t get far. She had no access to their bank account and therefore no money at all. Neither did she have friends or family. Where would a penniless woman go? Then it hit him; like a light bulb turning on, he arrived at a conclusion. A refuge. It’s the only place she can be. He pulled out his mobile phone from his trouser pocket and googled refuges in the area. The results showed two; both were just a few miles away.

Within the hour Andy was heading down to Margret Street Refuge. The harsh gales almost knocked the breath from his chest, but his anger had far more fury than the wind. As he walked, he considered ways to handle the refuge, but he already knew from his policing experience that he wouldn’t get any information simply by asking. He didn’t have a badge anymore and he wasn’t in his uniform; with Emily missing, he hadn’t felt the need to keep up the charade. He was a regular citizen, and there was no chance of him obtaining confidential information on the residents. Bummer. He didn’t have a hope. All he could do was sit, watch, and wait patiently.

The sky turned dark, like his mood, and rain bounced off the pavement. Nothing would stop him from finding her; the thought consumed him. Settling on a bench adjacent to Margret Street Refuge his determination kept him there for hours. He pulled his hood up around his ears, his sadistic thoughts his only company. He didn’t even feel the wrath of the storm or the cold. He watched the comings and goings with a keen eye, scanning every woman that came through the refuge’s doors. They

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