Chapter 4 - The Burner Phone—The Mother—The Bloody Kitchen

I sat in the back of Russo’s unmarked squad car. The rain beat against the windows.

Russo wasn't driving me to the precinct. We were heading toward the industrial district by the river. He was going to make me disappear.

I slipped my bound hands into the pocket of my ruined wedding dress. My fingers found my hidden burner phone. I blindly pressed the physical buttons, triggering the emergency panic protocol I had coded months ago.

Suddenly, Russo’s police radio shrieked with a deafening burst of static. The dashboard navigation screen flashed red.

“What the hell?” Russo muttered, distracted by the electronic chaos.

I didn't hesitate. I kicked both of my high heels squarely into the back of his seat, launching my entire body weight forward. I slammed my cuffed hands over his throat and jerked the steering wheel hard to the right.

The squad car swerved violently, smashing into a parked delivery truck.

The airbags deployed. Russo was knocked unconscious instantly.

I scrambled over the seat, found the handcuff keys on his belt, freed myself, and bolted into the rainy night.

I needed a safe place. I needed my mother.

I ran three miles through the freezing rain to my mother’s small suburban house. The porch light was off. The front door was slightly ajar.

“Mom?” I called out, pushing the door open.

The house was completely silent.

I walked into the kitchen. My stomach violently dropped.

The kitchen table was overturned. Groceries were scattered across the linoleum. And dragging across the floor, leading toward the back door, was a thick, unmistakable smear of fresh blood.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was an unknown number. I answered it, my hands shaking.

“Mom?” I choked out.

“Your mother isn't available right now, Julianne,” Eleanor’s voice purred over the line. “And neither is my thirty million dollars.”

The next chapters are on the left side of your screen.

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