Choices She Made [18+]

Chapter Fourteen- Dèad Eyes

Chapter Fourteen- Dead Eyes

I returned to my hotel room, aroused and alone. How could I be so stupid? I should have known better then to let Ryan near me again. He gets under my skin and I hated it. My thoughts went to my late husband. What would Robert think of me now?

Would he still love me? Would he still see me as the young woman he fell in love with? I wish I could hear his voice. He always made my problems shrink away. Robert was my safe haven, my comfort, and my heart.

If I let Ryan in, could I give him my heart? But my heart was Roberts even if he is gone now. I needed to stop my circling thoughts. Ryan couldn't make me forget my Robert. I didn't want to forget my husband but I did, however wanted to soothe this ache in my chest.

But it wasn't only heart ache I felt. I had another ache, one in between my legs. I needed release and I needed it fast. What better way to let my thoughts dissolve then to find a victim? When sèx wasn't a cure for a sour mood, money defiantly was. Doing it myself wouldn't solve it.

So I took a much needed cold shower, before getting dressed in a long sleeve shirt and tight fitted jeans. I towel dried my hair then ran a brush threw it.

When I walked back into the nice hotel room, I dropped everything I was holding. It all came back to haunt me. All across the room and everywhere there was empty space was now filled with pictures.

Pictures of me.

Pictures of me with some of my recent victims. Pictures of me by myself. An my wedding photos, scattered everywhere. But those are not what had me in tears and my heart beating a outrageous rhythm. There were pictures of that night, Roberts lifeless body laying in a massive puddle of blood.

Pictures of me holding his body. My arms covered in blood an hair caked in the redness. One picture was of Roberts face, the bullet wound still looked fresh. His déad eyes burning me, scorching me. It was like I was reliving the event over again. Except, this time I was seeing it through someone else's eyes.

Someone who wanted me to know they had took these. They wanted me to be reminded of it. They must be the kîller. They must have planted cameras in my old home so they could use these images against me. But what was worse is they had took pictures right after they kiłłed my husband.