The Niece: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller with jaw-dropping twists by Georgina Cross

The Niece: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller with jaw-dropping twists by Georgina Cross

Author:Georgina Cross [Cross, Georgina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781800199026
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2022-09-01T16:00:00+00:00


EIGHTEEN

Thirteen years ago

Hank lets go of the steering wheel, but when he does, his arm clocks me right in the jaw. The pain is instant, and it shoots to the back of my head, a sharp ache radiating in my skull.

I let out a shriek and my eyes go black, then it’s dark, stars exploding across my vision. I open my eyes and blink repeatedly, trying to focus so we don’t crash.

But it’s difficult, and I’m losing control. My hands are knocked free from the steering wheel and the car fishtails once more. The pain is too much and I’m dizzy, the asphalt becoming an endless black ribbon until there is no more road, only grass and trees, then a giant pothole that we crash straight through, the undercarriage of the car bottoming out with a bang. The pothole slows us down, but only a little, because we hit something, and we hit it hard. We sideswipe it.

We hurtle forward, our bodies thrown forward, then back, our seatbelts locked tight against our chests. The airbags burst in our faces and the smack of plastic is against my face, the shock of the airbag stinging my cheeks.

The car rocks violently before it comes to a stop, and I realize that I’m screaming. I’ve been screaming this whole time and didn’t realize it. And now I hear myself, along with the sound of crunching metal and shattered glass that falls to the ground. The engine rattles and shakes. The radiator hisses.

I collapse into my seat, thankful that I’m alive and can move my arms and legs. I push against the airbag, clearing as much of the plastic out of my face as I cough and choke from the debris.

It’s gotten quiet, except for the steady tick of the engine. Another piece of the car breaks off somewhere in the back and it clatters to the ground. There is no sound from Hank.

I look in the rearview mirror and see that it’s a telephone pole we sideswiped. It was on Hank’s side of the car and the passenger door is crumpled against him.

Hank isn’t moving. And now my anger from him hitting me, what we’ve done, turns into fear. With the airbags deployed, I can’t see much of his face. I can’t tell if he’s breathing either, and I reach over.

“Hank?” I shake him. His body rocks but there’s no response. “Hank! Wake up.”

I scramble to get out of the car and race to the passenger side but it’s difficult. We’re on the side of a hill. After we hit the telephone pole, the car reached sloped ground that pitches about thirty feet below before it evens out and reaches the woods. A row of trees waits for us at the bottom.

I lean against the passenger door to keep my balance, but my shoes slip, and I try not to fall. “Hank!” I scream, but he still isn’t moving.

I push against the airbag until I can finally see his face. He’s bloodied and banged-up.



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