'Come on, bitch. Is that all you've got?' I shriek, but she doesn't move an inch.
Why isn’t she fighting back? I need her to fight back, to show me what she's made of - but she isn’t moving. Why is she just lying there like that? She's just accepting it all, every blow, every shot, making me look like the bad guy.
'Lauren, answer me' I shout. No reply. 'Come on, Lauren. I mean it now. Fucking answer me.'
Still she doesn't speak, she doesn't move. I unclench my fists as soon as I realise that I've done. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. What have I done? I didn't mean to kill her, not really. I just wanted to hurt her. Didn't I? She can't be dead; she just can't be. I can't have done this.
I cradle her head in the palm of my hand as I bend towards her face, listening intently for the sound of breath. Blood trickles through my fingers from the back of her head. I'm just about to check for a pulse when a deafening bang erupts from behind me, followed by the thud of something heavy falling onto the floor. What the fuck was that? Jacob? Where is Jacob?
I drop her head back onto the floor but before I can successfully get to my feet - another bang. I feel something enter my body, I feel it's sharp, burning heat tearing me apart. My head spins and I can't seem to focus. I try to turn around, to see what has happened but the pain finally envelopes me and I feel myself toppling over. The bright light of the kitchen becomes manic, the ceiling swirls like a kaleidoscope and eventually the entire room fades to black.
Chapter 40
Four Weeks Later
Beep, beep, beep. That's all I hear these days. It's become a comfort to me; something regular, something expected, something reminding me that I am fortunate enough to still be here. That's not an exaggeration, the doctors told me themselves that I was incredibly lucky to survive this.
The 9mm bullet fired from a handgun ploughed into my back, narrowly missing my lungs as it ripped into my flesh. I needed urgent surgery to remove the bullet and to repair the life-threatening damage to my arteries but my vital organs held up and here I am. I guess it is kind of cool to say that I have survived a gunshot. It's definitely a conversation starter.
The same nurse who manned the ward last night is still here. She finishes at eight o'clock this morning, just one hour to go. She looks tired, but I guess you would after a twelve-hour shift.
She wraps the material around my arm, secures it tightly and then places the little clip on my finger. The tube begins to tighten; constricting aggressively like a python squeezing its prey but I'm used to it by now. Nurses frequently pop along to check my observations throughout each day.
She pulls at the Velcro and releases my arm, giving me a brief but genuine smile and then wheels the blood pressure monitor away for someone else to use.
I’m being discharged today – finally. Hannah will be collecting me from the hospital this afternoon as long as nothing changes, but I don't think it will.
It took her a couple of days to realise that something was wrong; I wasn't replying to her messages or answering her calls, but it was that fourth day of radio silence that really got her worried.
I always thought that I was good at telling a little white lie, but it turns out I never fooled Hannah. She didn't believe me one bit about this brand-new job in London and had her suspicions all along that I was up to no good with the Cruthers' family.
She obviously didn't have Lauren or Jacobs phone numbers so she couldn't phone them directly, but she realised that she did have something - the link to Laurens Facebook account. Amongst the whirlwind of tequila and master-plans, I had forgotten to erase my search for Lauren from Hannah’s phone that night in July. That's where she went first, and what she found was far more than she bargained for.
Splattered over Lauren’s Facebook was an array of messages from grieving friends and family members, all expressing how sorry they were that something like this could have happened and what a tragedy it had all been. Pictures filled her timeline of happier times, of pleasant memories, of old family photos from when she was just a little girl living life without a care in the world. Her whole life ahead of her.
There were so many messages but not one told her the exact details of what had happened, what the tragedy was. All she knew was that it was bad, very bad.
She was never one for watching the 6pm news so she never heard the story break a few days earlier but after reading all those terribly sad messages, something told her to open Google. It wasn't the messages themselves that made her panic, but the absence of her best friend accompanied by the death of Jacob's wife.
I guess I followed in the footsteps of my mum and dad because my story also ended up in the papers and on television for the world to see.
There were so many different headlines: Adultery leads to young couples’ tragic death – another victim in critical condition, Infidelity massacre in quiet seaside town, Family mourn dead couple as mistress arrested.
One paper shamelessly decided to print which hospital I had been admitted to and that's how she found me; my best friend, my guardian angel, my red headed saviour coming to my rescue. She's been the family that I so desperately needed all along and I have been so foolish to not acknowledge just how important she really is to me. That is going to change now, of course. I'm going to be a better friend to her. If it wasn't for Hannah, I would have been left here for weeks all alone and honestly, I just don't think I would have been able to cope with everything.
She’s been staying at a cheap hotel not far from the hospital for three and a half weeks now and I plan on paying her back from my savings when I get back on my feet. It's really the very least I can do.
The first couple of weeks are a bit of a blur to me but the nurses tell me that she’s been here every single day since she travelled down here. When I finally managed to open my eyes, her beautiful porcelain face was the first thing I saw. She hasn't asked me any questions about what really happened that night and I’m grateful for that. I don't feel ready to talk about it – not yet anyway. Still, she's been kind enough to answer any of mine and I'm glad I heard it from her first and not some shitty tabloid reporter or even the police who frequent my ward.
It's hard to find the words to explain how I feel about Laurens death. It was an accident. I really didn't mean to kill her - I swear I didn't. A part of me did genuinely care for her, and for what it's worth I really did enjoy certain aspects of our short but complicated friendship. I've shed many tears for Lauren when I'm left alone - but not because I feel guilty or anything. Her death was inevitable either way, fate had already decided her path. All I am guilty of is speeding up the process. But my fate was different to hers; I was made to survive, to bounce back and to make the most of my second chance at life. That's why I'm in the clear and why nobody suspects or blames me for anything to do with Laurens death. There are only two people left in this entire world now that know what really happened - that Lauren was dead before shots were fired.
Obviously, I told the police that you attacked her, and that I pushed you out of the way to get to Lauren, to make sure that she was OK. I was trying to save her, protect her, but it was too late – and that's when you shot me. It's not a total lie because you did shoot me, and not just me – you shot Jacob too. I know that you were going to kill Lauren as well. Like I said, fate had already dealt her cards before I played my hand.
It doesn't matter that I didn't actually see you with my own eyes, you were caught red handed and that's enough for me. A little fabrication won't make much difference to your life now, but I am sure as hell not going to let mine go to shit for one stupid accident that nobody else knows about.
My feelings towards Jacobs' death are a little more complicated, but not because I didn't love him, because I did – a little too much if anything. I was infatuated by him, overwhelmed by our love, completely and blissfully unaware of the harsh reality of his deceit. The most painful betrayals are served to us ice cold by the ones we love the most. That sizzling hot intensity of unconditional love that I
once felt for him has vanished, our fairy-tale extinguished, and in its place lies painfully raw revulsion, bubbling uncomfortably beneath the surface.
I haven't cried for Jacob – and I won't. He ruined so many people’s lives with his lies. If anyone is to truly blame for all of this mess it's him – but he's dead now, so I guess that's where you come in. Not just because you're a murderer, but because people find it difficult to stay mad at the dead. They'd rather direct their anger towards someone they can see suffer, someone who is still alive to receive appropriate punishment. What punishment is appropriate for blowing someone's brains to smithereens though? Should it be a life for a life? Should you be locked away and tortured brutally? I personally think just being locked up for two murders and an attempted murder is enough punishment for you. As I said, Jacob brought all of this on himself. He deserved what you did to him. I was just collateral damage and I've accepted that. How can I not forgive you when you've granted me a lifeline?
I hope one day I will be able to come and visit you. Maybe we could become friends, because I admire your courage. You decided on a plan and you rolled with it, no matter how crazy or dangerous it was. That's something I can get behind, after all I've done a few crazy things myself. I really do hope you're strong enough to get through this, and even though you might be a little bit mad at me right now for adding another murder on to your charge, I want you to know that here is no bad blood towards you on my part for what you done. In fact, when I heard about it, I laughed. Oh god it hurt to laugh but I just couldn't help it. That bastard took ten years of my life from me and I hated him for it. Now, thanks to you, he's gone and he can't take anything else from me, or Lauren or you – or even anyone else that I am yet to find out about, because I suspect there will be others lurking in the shadows too.
You're a hero in my book. Thank you, Georgia. Thank you.
Chapter 41
Georgia Pearson was arrested shortly after her wild rampage that evening. Concerned neighbours reported sounds of uncontrollable wailing emanating from the Cruthers’ household and contacted the Police. One gentleman felt compelled enough to pop over and check that everything was OK before the Police arrived and I just don't think he bargained for what he found.
The back door that opens into the kitchen was left wide open and inside was where he witnessed Georgia, kneeling in a pool of blood cradling Jacob's limp, lifeless body. Can you imagine walking into that kitchen? Three lifeless bodies, blood spattered everywhere, an inconsolable woman refusing to let go of a dead man.
Georgia and Jacob had been having an affair for two years. Two whole years, can you believe that? Laurens very best friend and her supposedly loving husband. Now that is the ultimate betrayal. I'm just glad that Lauren isn't alive now to hear about that, it's better that she died not knowing.
I however, am not that fortunate. I survived and found out more than I ever thought imaginable. It struck me like a hard iron fist to the stomach when I found out about them. I was so naively blinded by him and everything he told me, but I wasn't just angry - I was embarrassed. It had never crossed my mind that Jacob could be remotely interested in anybody else other than me. While I was busy focusing all my attention on his wife, I completely overlooked his mistress. I truly thought that I was smarter than that, and I felt foolish.
Georgia has been charged for the murders of Jacob and Lauren Cruthers, accompanied by another charge of attempted murder. She has pleaded her innocence from the very beginning, refusing to confess to any of the charges whilst she awaits trial.
She is guilty though, no matter what she says. She might not have been the one to kill Lauren but she quite clearly killed Jacob, and I definitely didn't shoot myself in the back. I mean, you couldn't look any guiltier than her - she was found there in such a sorry state. I don't really understand why she didn't flee as quickly as possible, why she drew so much attention to herself by crying so loudly, but I guess people react differently to shocking situations. Perhaps the reality of her actions got the better of her.
My little white lie of witnessing her attack on Lauren wasn't the only thing that incriminated her though. Laurens phone records showed evidence of an incoming call from Georgia earlier that day. The Police strongly implied that this phone call was the instigator in the madness that was to follow. It has been speculated that the conversation between the two women involved Georgia telling Lauren about the affair.
The duration of the call wasn't too long, but that in itself was enough for them to suggest that Lauren was simply unwilling to hear Georgia out, which then fuelled her into making an appearance at their house later that night.
It's quite obvious that she was mad about something; whether it was something Lauren said to her, or something Jacob had done, or perhaps it was even me she was mad at? I guess if Lauren knew exactly who I was the whole time then she would have shared this with her best friend. Was she incensed that Jacob was playing her for a fool too? I just don't know.
To be honest, I don't know a lot about anything, not really. For some reason I have been kept in the dark by the Police and it has been Hannah who has kept me in the loop.
Despite believing it was Georgia who pulled the trigger, admittedly, some things don't really make much sense to me: I don't know why Georgia had a bloody gun with her when she came to speak to Lauren, or even where she got it from. I don't know if she actually planned on using it or if it was simply a tool to scare someone into admitting guilt. I don't know who she was intending to scare, was it me or Jacob? I don't even know what she did with the gun, because I don't think it was found anywhere in the house. Did she leave, dispose of the gun somewhere and then come back? Did she think that she would get away with it if she was the one who found the crime? I can't wrap my head around these things.
I'm going to try and let sleeping dogs lie though. It really doesn't matter what makes sense to me and what doesn't because what's done is done. As far as I'm concerned, Georgia killed Lauren and Jacob. I told the Police that I saw her and I'm sticking with it. The only person who could clear her name is me, and that's something I definitely don't intend to do.
Georgia
'Tell us the truth, Georgia. You will only cause yourself more stress by lying – especially in your condition, love.’
'I am telling you the truth! I’ve told you the truth from the beginning!’
You were found in a pool of Mr Cruthers’ blood by the neighbour – he saw you, Georgia.’
'I didn’t kill him; I could never have killed him – I loved him!’
'But you did kill Mrs Cruthers? And you did attempt to kill Miss Winters? Is that what you're saying, Georgia?'
'No! That’s not what I meant. You're twisting things. Why won't you listen to me? I didn’t do this!’
'OK Georgia, OK. Say you didn't do it … then who did?’
I didn’t do what they are all saying I did. Lauren is … was my best friend. I would never have hurt her, at least not physically.
When I got to their house that evening, I chapped and chapped on the front door but nobody answered; that’s why I went around the back because I knew they were home. I didn't understand why nobody was coming to let me in.
The back door was lying wide open and I shouted on Lauren a couple of times before I even stepped over the doorway. I really wish I hadn’t. I so wish I had just turned on my heels when nobody answered the front door, climbed back in my car and went back home. But wishing I had done things differently won’t save me now.
The first thing I saw was the heap of two bodies on the floor. That little bitch was lying on top of Lauren, blood radiating outwards; both of their blood mixed together. I whispered to Lauren, but she didn’t answer and so I edged closer to them, aware that something terrible had happened and that I might be in danger too by being here.
I couldn't avoid stepping in the red liquid and at the time I didn't really think twice about doing it. I had to get close enough to Lauren to be able to check if she was breathing or not. Tha
t's when I saw the puddle that had formed around her head, her beautiful dark hair splayed around her, completely drenched.
I pressed two fingers against her neck, but there was no pulse. I put my hand over her mouth in hope that I would feel her faint breath against my palm, but there was nothing. I took hold of her hand that was lying above her head and although it was still slightly warm, I knew she was dead. My best friend was dead.
I turned away and my body catapulted forwards as I heaved over and over; my hands trembling as I pushed them into my legs to try and keep myself from toppling over.
I didn't check if Karly was breathing. I didn't even think about touching her. I couldn't see her face clearly as it was hidden by her hair; still a little wet with a towel lying limp beside her, blood greedily seeping into the cotton. I assumed she was dead too. If I am guilty of anything, it's not making sure that she was.
I backed away from them, planning to leave the Kitchen and call the Police from the garden, but I was not prepared for what I saw next. A blood curdling scream erupted from my core when I saw Jacob.
We had been seeing each other for two years and we were madly in love. We knew what we were doing was wrong, but you can’t help who you fall for. I knew that the sneaking around wasn't going to be forever, Jacob assured me that it wouldn't. He was going to leave Lauren, he promised and I believed him but when Lauren told us about the other girl in Jacob's life I was stunned. I knew he was capable of being deceitful, but he wasn't supposed to cheat on me.
I tried my best to keep my cool in Tenerife, letting Lauren take the lead with the whole Karly situation but it was so difficult not to come clean to her about my own affair with Jacob. If I had told her, perhaps she wouldn't have put up such a fight with Karly in a bid to keep her husband and she might still be alive today, but I didn't. Hindsight is a beautiful thing.
The Lies She Told: A wickedly twisted psychological thriller that you cannot put down! Page 23
