The Death Match by Christa Faust

Author:Christa Faust [Faust, Christa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Supernatural Thriller, Fiction
Publisher: AmazonEncore
Published: 2012-09-18T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

The drive back to Long Beach seemed endless. They were both cold, wet, and filthy from the crawl through the sewer to the storm drain grate beneath Long’s burning mansion, Matt bare-chested and Stacy dressed only in his oversized shirt. Stacy didn’t speak, and Matt didn’t push her.

When she finally pulled into the driveway of her small, forgettable house, she killed the ignition but made no move to get out of the car.

“Come on,” Matt said softly, his hand on Stacy’s arm.

She just sat there in the driver’s seat, staring down at her hands.

“Let me have your keys,” he said.

She looked at him as if she’d just realized that he was there but had no idea what he was talking about. Her eyes were all cried out. Empty.

“Keys,” Matt said again. “To your house.”

Stacy pulled the key from the ignition and handed over a jumbled ring with a tiny silver boxing glove dangling off it. Matt took the keys, got out of the car, and went around to the driver’s side to open the door and help Stacy up, but she shoved him away.

“I’m fine,” she spat.

“Fine,” Matt replied. “Come on.”

Matt unlocked the door to her house and guided her inside. For a moment the two of them just stood there in the cluttered living room.

“You gonna be okay?” Matt asked.

She didn’t answer.

A pink-and-black short-sleeved Fight Chix rash guard had been thoughtlessly discarded in a crumpled heap near the door. She took a single step toward the shirt, stopped for a moment as if swaying on the deck of a ship, and then sank to her knees, gathering the discarded rash guard up against her chest and pressing her face into the fabric.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” she whispered.

Matt backed away, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. He wanted to say something supportive to help her through her anguish, guilt, and grief, but the words just wouldn’t come.

“What am I supposed to do with her things? Take them down to Brazil and give them to the mom that pimped her out before she even had her period? Be, like, ‘Sorry I killed your daughter with my bare hands, but here’s her toothbrush’?”

Matt was going to say he didn’t have any idea, but she cut him off before he could speak.

“You know what? Fuck it.”

She started gathering armfuls of stuff and throwing them blindly out the open door into the driveway. Clothes and shoes and books and training gear and anything she could get her hands on. Matt just stepped back and let her wind down on her own. Eventually she stopped throwing things and covered her face with her hands. He led her to the sofa and made her lie down, covering her with a fuzzy purple blanket that looked like it had been picked out by a child.

She turned away from him, curling her body in on itself.

He probably should have left, but looking at Stacy with her tangled red hair in her face and clutching the blanket up under her battered chin, he knew he couldn’t do that.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.