Wicked Girl (THE FIRE Book 1) by Mcebo Michael Metfula

Author:Mcebo Michael Metfula [Metfula, Mcebo Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ETC Ink
Published: 2017-11-03T00:00:00+00:00

8:18 AM

Chloe called. Again. Anger seized me. Again.

I grimaced at the cell phone blinking in my pocket. I failed to comprehend what was wrong with her small head. I did not take her calls because I couldn’t. That’s it. Why couldn’t she get that?

I stretched my leg and pulled the phone out. However, it wasn’t Chloe. Karen was calling from her landline. My eyes bulged – they almost fell on the cell phone. I jerked to my feet and let it ring until it terminated automatically. She called again. I watched it again. “Pick up, sweetheart. Pick up,” she said in the dining room.

I tilted my head leftward in an effort to pick everything with my right ear. For some reason, she wasn’t loud as before.

The “sweetheart” title – coming from her – troubled me. She wasn’t saying it passively; she meant what she said – with every bit of her wicked heart.

Certainly, I was right about her. She definitely knew a lot about Grace’s whereabouts. I punched the air, mad and confounded about the exploits of her obsession. I didn’t have a wife or peace due to her obsession. I tapped my head with my right hand hoping it would suggest something more concrete than her obsession. A crush. Lust. Something that’s here today, tomorrow, it’s gone. But clearly for Karen, it didn’t leave on the following day; it burned within her until it gave birth to an evil motive. A sick motive that rendered me messed up and without peace of mind and heart. She nursed the obsession like a witch nursing a grudge and then it took control of her mental faculties and pushed her over the edge.

Chloe called again. And again. And again.

I almost smashed the cell phone on the wall and slapped my face on behalf of hers. I paced in the basement. But I wasn’t sure what had boiled me up. Chloe? Or Karen? Or the musty basement? Or the rat? Or my frozen feet? Or everything?

When I heard Karen open the front door, I stopped moving. She closed it. I couldn’t figure out where she was going before even making breakfast for the kids. Suddenly, I made up that she was going to mend things with Jane – apologize. But faintly, I suspected she was going to my house as she had told Jane she would apologize and ask for my protection. I quickly refuted that thought. She couldn’t be that brave or crazy, considering the way she treated me with Jane. But just to be sure, I climbed on an old chair and looked through the small windows. I almost fell off when I saw her open my gate.

I had no minute – even a second to process what I saw. I sprinted up the steps. I threw her cell phone on the couch in the living room and dashed through the dining room and kitchen. I ran out through the back door and jumped the short fence. But when I opened my back door, it was locked.

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