Skimming The Surface

Skimming The Surface

Autor:Joanna Mazurkiewicz

En proceso

Thriller

Introducción
Tahlia’s life has crumbled. The man she believed to have always loved has betrayed her and her enemy is back from the dead–hell must be too full to keep them. After unrevealing in court and being sent to prison she is attacked in her cell and then transferred to a psychiatric unit. She knows that her chances of survival are slim. When she finally looses all the hope, Micah shows up ready to help her escape. Tahlia is suddenly stuck between a rock and a hard place. Her hatred for him and his betrayal is fuelled by her love for him causing confusion and mixed emotions. He lied, cheated and mislead her in order to get what he wanted, and now he thinks he can fix everything. She has no other choice but to go with him. Escaping prison she is branded a mentally unstable fugitive on the run, finding herself living a life of isolation, trying to pick up the pieces and finally understanding her past, but still hiding her deepest secret away. Her enemy is slowly closing in on her and she doesn’t know how much time she has, before everything comes to a head, before the rat bastard gets his hands on her, before her world comes to an end.
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Capítulo

Micah

I pace around the room, trying really hard not to rip my hair out of my skull, while Clarke, Lee, Rogers and some other guy in an expensive suit are staring at me dismissively. It’s been two days, the longest two days in my entire life. Tahlia is in custody, soon to be charged with a murder she hasn’t committed. And it’s all my fault.

I failed to see that she was set up. How could I be stupid enough not to take more time to run over the evidence, her motive, the timing? Now I’m trying to convince my boss that I’ve made a mistake, after being the one that gave them all the evidence in the first place. On top of that, the DNA results are back from the lab. It’s hers and the victim’s blood on that T-shirt.

“He’s alive, sir. I don’t have any proof yet, but my source has never let me down. I made a mistake bringing Tahlia into custody, rushed things. She was set up from the very beginning,” I insist, repeating the same story over and over. The guy in the suit is shaking his head, pissing me off even more. I clench my fists, trying to keep it together.

Rogers, my partner on this case, is an honest guy; he doesn’t believe in any bullshit. We had a very intense conversation a couple of days ago about everything that’s happened. At first he thought I was messing with him, with the case, but then he started listening, getting what I was trying to explain to him. His wife heard us arguing. My anger got the better of me and I lost the plot. After it all passed, I wept like a little child, screaming and shouting that I was the biggest scumbag in the entire world.

Lisa tried to talk to me, tell me that anyone could have made the same mistake, based on the evidence that I had gathered. Eventually she managed to calm me down, but the pain in my chest was spreading through me like a cancer reaching into all the cells in my body and poisoning them. Rogers was right. No one was going to free Tahlia out of this shit storm, especially since she refused to see a solicitor. The first court appearance was set in motion and we had a case, thanks to the strong evidence that I brought to light.

“Detective Thomson, only a couple of days ago you were convinced that Tahlia Sanderson murdered her roommate in cold blood.” James Clarke, my boss, states, looking sharp and pissed off. “The lab results are conclusive, and on top of that, the girl had a motive. Her roommate somehow found out about that assault and she was ready to expose her, even though her case had been dealt with and swept under the carpet. The note might not make sense, but we have made an arrest. The press will make a mockery out of us if we release her. We need to think about our reputation. Your source, Detective—whatever he or she is—won’t change anything. The hearing is set for tomorrow, and so far our girl hasn’t said anything that can back up your story. You haven’t been much help either. So far, Detective Rogers has been doing all the talking.”

Clarke looks down at some of his notes. I hate the fact that he cares more about his own arse than someone else’s life.

My shirt sticks to my skin and I feel a bead of sweat run down my temple. Ever since I arrested her, I haven’t been sleeping at all, trying to figure out how to make this right, how to verify what T said. The problem is that he vanished; his mother hasn’t seen him. This is a bad sign, and without him Tahlia is lost, buried deep in the ground. Burning guilt is ripping me apart and I can’t even think straight. If anything happens to him, I’ll never forgive myself. He came to me, risked everything to tell me that I fucked up. I have no evidence that Knox has been murdered and there is someone new in charge.

“Superintendent is right. Rudolf is dead. I identified his body myself, his fingerprints and DNA, Detective,” Lee adds, looking at me like I lost my fucking mind.

“He faked his own death. And I know for a fact that the bastard has people inside the force. Tahlia is his ex-girlfriend, and he’ll know when she gets locked up. She was supposed to die that night, not the Wallace girl. Are any of you even listening to what I’m fucking saying?”

Clarke rounds on me. “Thomson that’s enough! Obviously you are taking this case way too personally. The girl is going on trial and that’s the end of the story. You, on the other hand, need to see a shrink.”

“Sir, I’m not fucking crazy,” I shout, wondering why they are all so bloody stupid. My limbs feel heavy and my heart feels like it’s stopped beating. I’ve lost my humanity, my sanity. T has never been wrong, and I know that if Tahlia is that girl that I saved, she never would have harmed her roommate.

“Enough!” Clarke yells, slamming his fists on the table. “It’s not a request, but an order. Don’t make me put you on a leave of absence, Thomson.”

I drag my hands over my face, thinking fast, wondering what other options I have. They all leave me alone, and soon I realise that I might never make this right. I have caused so much pain, so much sorrow and now I will just lead him to her. She hates me and she will never forgive me for what I have done to her.

Tahlia

I wake up breathing hard, disoriented in the complete darkness, as the smell of sweat permeates the air. Several seconds drag and then I know that I’m in a prison cell, not in my own cozy bed. My chest keeps rising and falling in rapid movements. Images from the unknown dream fade away. I touch my forehead, trying to calm down until my eyes adjust to the darkness that slowly begins to swallow me.

Micah Thompson threw me in here and then left without a word. It’s because of him my life is worthless.

The bastard had been lying to me for god knows how long, probably from the moment he showed up to question me about Suranne’s murder. I know that there is not much time left for me. The man that I thought was dead is living and breathing and he wants revenge. Time is against me. I’m simply waiting for someone to finish the job.

It’s been forty-eight hours and tomorrow I’ll be in court, expected to make a plea. There is no way I’m going to let them lock me up. The rat has people gathered around everywhere and I won’t survive a day in prison. I was so stupid to believe that he was wiped out of this world, that I was finally free of all the pain and sorrow that he caused.

Everything between Micah and me was fine, until he left me. I knew that it was just a matter of time before he found out about the past, about my real identity. That day I felt unwell, anxious and nervous. When he came back, he wasn’t the same person that I’d fallen for. He was a stranger.

Love? I was stupid enough to believe that I’d finally fallen for someone, for a man from my dreams, but in the end my heart was shattered. Micah Thomson wasn’t capable of showing any signs of humanity. He’d proven it to me countless times, but I was determined to give him a chance, to find something good in him. The good emotions turned into hatred—and utter disgust—the moment he called me a killer. No one ever understood me, no one empathised with my pain. Not until Tequila took me in and taught me how to function again.

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