Life After Taylah
Page 67

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He was suspicious.
He followed her.
He got angry and he strangled her.
She died.
He buried her body and left her car.
His DNA not suspicious at the scene, because it was all through her car. Of course it was; he rode in it all the time.
This information swims in my mind as I sit in the police station hours after the news of my mother’s death was broken to me. I haven’t shed a tear, not a single tear. My entire body is numb. I feel no emotion. I’m completely broken. When the officer comes out and tells me I can see my father, I stand on trembling legs and I follow him down the halls.
The minute I reach my father’s cell, the officer turns and mutters, “Five minutes.”
I stare at my dad, his head between his legs, hair disheveled, and his body shaking. He should shake. He should shake for every breath he took from her body. I step forward and I slam my hand against the cell, causing him to look up. His eyes are bloodshot, red, and frantic. He leaps up and rushes forward. “Avery,” he cries. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”
“An accident?” I say, my voice so empty it scares me. “It was an accident that you put your hands around her neck and took her life?”
“She was having an affair!” he yells, gripping his head. “I worked so hard, gave her everything, and she was having an affair. She didn’t care about me . . . about you or Liam. She only cared about that man.”
“So you killed her.”
Empty. Emotionless.
“I didn’t mean to take it that far, I was just so angry. When I realized what I was doing it was too late. I only meant to scare her.”
Scare her.
“She was beautiful, perfect and amazing,” I say, my voice a low hiss. “Her life was not yours to take.”
“Please, Avery. Please don’t hate me.”
I look up at him and I know my eyes are cold. “Hate doesn’t even cover what I feel for you, Father. What I feel goes so much deeper. It burns in my soul so much more furiously. I hope you rot in hell. I hope you pay every day for the rest of your pathetic, lonely life. You are nothing to me. You are no longer my father.”
I turn and walk away. There is nothing else to say. Nothing else to hear.
“Avery!” he screams, shaking the bars.
There is no turning back.
CHAPTER 32
NATE
“Why can’t I come with you?” I say, narrowing my eyes.
“It’s easier if I go alone,” she says, crossing her arms and rubbing them, darting her eyes away.
“You are seeing your doctor about a sickness. I am your husband; I don’t understand why I shouldn’t come.”
“Nate,” she whispers, “I just want to go alone.”
“But why?” I bark.
“Just drop it, okay? It’s hard enough dealing with this as it is without you breathing down my throat.”
My phone rings beside me, and it takes everything for me to drop this conversation with Lena. Something doesn’t feel right to me, but she’s not giving me the chance to figure out what that is.
“This isn’t finished. Go, but know that I am coming next time.”
She quickly nods and turns, rushing out the door. I answer my phone, pressing it to my ear.
“What?”
“Is this Nate?”
I narrow my eyes. “That you, Max?”
He sighs deeply. “It’s me.”
“And you’re ringing me because?”
“Nate, something happened tonight. I know I shouldn’t talk to you or call you but . . . fuck . . . she won’t let anyone else in. I know that.”
My heart clenches. “What’s goin’ on, Max?”
“Avery’s father was arrested tonight, because he confessed to the murder of her mother.”
My entire world stops spinning as I rasp, “What?”
“She’s gone home, but she won’t answer calls, won’t answer the door. I’m worried sick, Nate. She didn’t even cry. She’s completely dead. I’m terrified. I can’t find Liam, but I’ve got Kelly onto that. I need—I need to know she’s okay.”
“I’ll go around now,” I say, already heading towards the front door.
“Thank you,” he whispers, hanging up.
I call out to Macy and we rush out together. Lena is gone, so I drop her off to a close friend while I go and check on Avery. I put my foot down the entire way to Avery’s apartment. I skid into the driveway and turn the car off, leaping out and rushing towards the front door. I pound on it, over and over, but there’s no answer. I look up and see the bathroom light is on. She’s here. I go to the front window and I lift my foot, putting it straight through the glass she only had replaced a few weeks ago.
I climb in, feeling little shards pierce my skin. I don’t care.
The minute my feet are on the ground, I run up the stairs. I go straight to the bathroom and twist the door handle. Locked. I begin pounding on it.
“Avery!” I yell. “Avery!”
I pound harder. Shit, what if she’s not here? I pull out my phone and I dial her number. The moment I hear the buzzing in the bathroom, I know she’s in there. A sick feeling courses through my body as I lift my foot and kick the door.
It takes me a grueling ten minutes before it busts open. I charge in and skid to a halt when I see her. She’s curled in a pool of her own blood.