❛𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃, 𝐈'𝐌 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄...❜ | 𝐍𝐨.𝟑

Chapter 8- Suspicions Rising...

Emma's POV:
"Drink. Now." persistence - the fact of continuing in an opinion or course of action in spite of difficulty or opposition. Otherwise known as the operative word to describe my best friend of 26 years, Natalie Carter. "No, I've told you, I'm on call tonight."

"Do you ever see outside of that dreadful office of yours? When was the last time you lived a little?" my mind strays away from the London pub we're currently in, to almost every sexual encounter me and my fiancée have had... "I've done a lot more living than you think I have. I'm not as boring as I seem."

Dismissing me by downing the tequila shot she offered me, my friend tips her head back all the way, the clear liquid sloshing down her throat. "How was Cornwall? More to the point, how was Lauren?" she says, a dangerous quirk in her eye that makes my submissive self crumble slightly.

"If you're talking about our date night, it was...something else..." my failure to disclose the events of that rather treacherous night clearly agitates my friend, a look of displeasure scrunching up her face. Angry suits her. "Don't look at me like that. I'm about to be a married woman, so sue me if I don't share every aspect of my sex life with you."

"Man, Emma Alton is finally tying the knot...the shyest kid in the playground is marrying a dominatrix. Who'd have thought?" my few given blinks show a look of disbelief and disgust, my eyes pointed in a knowing way toward my childhood friend. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Nat."

❀❀❀

After what feels like endless hours stuck in that goddamn pub, I finally manage to escape my childhood friend's clutches, and stride across my home's driveway, eventually placing my house key into the lock. However I miss and my keys clash onto the floor below me.

"I knew I was a little tipsy..." kneeling down to pick them up, through the dark air I barely notice some rather familiar marks made on our driveway...just like they have been the past few weeks...stick figures, multiplying each different time they're sewn into my home's driveway, once close to the rear tires of my co-owned car shared with my fiancée, until they've begun getting further and further upward to reach the front ones.

Who the hell is doing this? As the weeks have gotten on, I've become more and more certain that no child is doing this...these are the minor actions of a creep. Some sick soul who has nothing better to do than bother a perfectly happy family, getting on with their lives, about to approach a new beautiful milestone. "Pathetic..."

As I make a mental note to chase up on this annoying encounter later on at work, with a spark of frustration, I snatch my keys up and unlock the front door, and make my way inside.

❀❀❀

When I walk into mine and Lauren's home, the scene I step in on is of her wearing her elegant reading glasses, a literature book clasped in one hand as her eyes dance across the page. Noticing my arrival, she carefully takes her glasses and places them on her head, a beaming smile shown. "Put the glasses back on your nose. They give major sexy teacher vibes."

I stride further into the living room, my heels clicking loudly against the marble flooring as I make my way over to her. Lauren places her book to the side and pats her lap, which I eagerly take a seat into, my bum wedging between the dip in her thighs. "Did the kids behave themselves?"

"Of course. We made rainbow waffle cakes, did some very interesting paintings for mummy and had a nap together. How was the pub?" me and my future wife continue to chat whilst I'm sat comfortably on her lap, enjoying the company of one another...when I hear a series of disruptive noises occurring outside, close to our front porch. "What's wrong, baby?"

My gut instinct is telling me something...something bad. The feeling pulsating around my stomach, travelling all around without fail, is an aching sensation I can no longer bear, one that has to be settled. "Go upstairs with the kids, Laur...I'll be up in a minute."

She can read any look I have splayed on my face, from whatever angle...my detective instinct look screams the impending danger I feel, and she picks up on it like the snap of a finger. "Emma...you should know you're starting to scare me..."

Lauren may appear as a tough, no-shit dominatrix, but she's human...I come face to face with danger every day, stare it dead in the eye, as if it's a habit. No matter how high your stilettos make you, you'll never know the feeling of real fear, intimidation...and demanding confrontation. Someone has begun their exceedingly long process in trying to frighten my family, for whatever reason...and I have to be the one to deal with it.

"There's no reason to be scared...just go upstairs with the kids and give them some good night kisses...I'll be up in a minute..." I elevate myself from her lap, attempting to settle my worries, when she grabs my hand hopefully, pleading eyes plastered... "I will be fine...just go upstairs, yeah?"

Without another word, Lauren disappears up the flight of stairs held in our home, and when I faintly hear the sound of a bedroom door closing tightly shut, I grab my gun from the safe located in the kitchen, high up where no unwanted soul can find it.

Let's do this, you creep...

Opening my front door with vast urgency, I'm met with the stony cold airwaves lapping at my skin briskly, not a body in sight. I hold my gun behind my back, hiding it from someone who I know is there, but am not fully certain on their existence. "Who's there?"

I hear a small rustling once again, similar to the previously heard rumbles from inside the house that prompted me to face my fears... "Come on out, you coward. I am not afraid of you..." nothing, that's what I'm met with.

Nothing.

"Are you really that pathetic you have to act like a child because your life is so sad? Grow up." there's nothing more for me to do, than hope that this dickhead got the message...

No one messes with my family and thinks it's okay...

I turn around to re-enter my home, convinced there's no reason for me to stay out here any longer, the dark aroma chilling me to my core...just when I notice something hit the front door, flying through the air faster than a bullet. No matter how quickly my head spins around to look behind me, again, I'm met with nothing and nobody.

"For god's sake, what now?" my body bends downward to pick up what seems to be a piece of crumpled up paper from the ground, screwed up into a tight ball. I have to get inside, because all of a sudden, I feel as if someone has just walked over my grave...

❀❀❀

I pull Lauren into our bedroom after triple-checking the doors and windows are sufficiently locked, no possible way for another human to break in. "What's the matter? Are you hurt? Did that bastard hurt you?" despite the haunting thoughts clouding my body, I find it easy to acquit and admire my fiancées caring words. "I'm fine, my love...although I think we've been given a message..."

Furious, with a detectable amount of caution, I scramble to unfold the crumpled-up ball, flattening it out with my fingers, hoping to make some sense of the words splayed in red ink across the centre, and I have a feeling this is only the beginning of our journey of torment as my pupils flutter across the page, each word screaming 'danger'...

'Dead woman walking...'

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Thank you for reading.

For some reason, I'm finding it difficult to write this book. It's not necessarily writers block - it's just not proving to be as enjoyable as writing other books for me.

Although, I will never leave a job half done. I'm sure my strange feelings will go away once the drama continues ;)

Have a lovely day/night, beautiful <3