With Deadly Intent

by KA Richardson

  His eyes were cold as he sank the knife slowly into the side of her stomach. The pain was dull and sharp at the same time, and she gasped, feeling blood start to flow down her side. The second time was just as slow and methodical, to the other side of her stomach. Then, as if for good measure, he plunged the knife in twice more.

  Cass couldn’t fight anymore, she already felt far away from her body. He’d done it, he’d killed her and killed their baby. Why hadn’t she left sooner, why hadn’t she done something. Tears fell from her eyes as her mind let go of its consciousness and she slipped into oblivion.

  Rose Peters sat beside the hospital bed holding her daughter’s hand. Over the last five days, she’d asked herself why so many times and was still no closer to an answer. Why hadn’t she seen what a monster her daughter lived with, why hadn’t Cass told her, why had her daughter put up with such horrific abuse, why had he done it.

  She sighed, and pulled Cass’s hand to her mouth, kissing it gently. ‘It doesn’t even matter, what matters is that you come back to me, you don’t give up fighting, Cassie, you never give up fighting. I’m here.’

  Rose hadn’t left Cass’s side. Her husband, who was sitting in the chair by the window hadn’t moved either. She’d been inconsolable when the police had attended her home and told her to get to the hospital as quickly as possible, they’d even given her a blue light escort.

  Her little girl wasn’t expected to live through the night, they’d said when she’d got there hours after Cass’s admittance. And seeing her daughter hooked up to machines which bleeped loudly in the background had been enough to see her sag against her husband in despair. Even as an adult, her daughter looked so small lying in the bed. When the doctor had listed her injuries, Rose had paled, wondering how anyone could survive such an attack. And when they’d told her the baby hadn’t made it, she’d cried for her lost grandchild, but was equally feeling guilty that she felt relieved that Cass was still there.

  The whole situation was just surreal. Things like this didn’t happen to people you knew, this stuff was reserved for other people, the ones in the news.

  The police were still sat outside the room, though Rose knew Carl had been caught outside his friend Tony’s house, after trying to kick the door in to get to his friend. He’d still had the knife on him, and it had taken CS gas, half a dozen officers and a Taser to take him to the ground.

  As if that made any of it any better.

  It was a good thing he’d been caught though, if she got her hands on him, she’d wring his bloody neck, hurting Cass like this. And hurting her for some time, according to the doctors who had recorded previous fractures when doing the scans and x-rays. Why didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t she come to me for help? More why’s – like there’ll ever be an answer.

  Rose felt tears well up again, they’d been coming thick and fast over the last few days. She had so many questions, needed so much information. Angrily she swiped at her tears. This shouldn’t be happening, shouldn’t have happened. She should have known what was happening. Cass was her daughter. She should have just known.

  When Cass groaned a moment later, Rose almost thought she was hearing things. Then her daughter’s eyes fluttered open, and she looked around, confused, barely even conscious.

  ‘Shh, it’s OK, Cassie. I’m here. You’re OK.’

  Rose stroked the back of Cass’s hand, not knowing what else to do.

  She saw the look of panic in Cass’s face, ‘Baby?’ she asked in a raspy voice.

  It was all Rose could do not to break down – slowly she shook her head. ‘I’m so sorry, sweetheart, the baby didn’t make it.’

  Rose stood and gathered Cass into her arms, holding her as she started sobbing. Her baby girl was in so much pain. If she could switch places with her, she would in an instant. So, she did the only thing she could, she cried with her daughter. Sobbed for the loss of the child, the guilt she felt for not realising how bad things were for her only child, the guilt she knew her daughter would be feeling, and the fact this had happened in the first place.

  One day Cass would answer all her questions – explain why she hadn’t escaped from Carl’s abuse. For now, though, it didn’t matter. Her tears soaked Cass’s hair as she stroked her softly, whispering, ‘Shh, baby. Mama’s here,’ just like she’d always done when something had hurt her little girl.

  Acknowledgements

  I’d like to say a massive thank you to all the CSIs, CSM’s, inspectors, and police officers who have had some part in fact-checking and research for this novel. Special thanks to David Mason for his help throughout.

  My thoughts go out to the friends and family of my first ever editor, Jenny Drewery, who sadly passed away in July 2015. She pushed me to my limits and beyond and believed unfalteringly that I would land a contract. Her friendship and influence live on through this novel.

  Utmost thanks and much love to my amazing mum Jeannet, who has encouraged and believed in me my whole life. My dad, Derek for being a steady presence and believing whatever I do is the right thing. My amazingly wonderful and patient husband, Peter, who ensures a steady stream of coffee is present while I write and supports me in everything, my aunty Mary for her utter joy at knowing she’d finally be able to read my novel, and my brother Michael, for his constant questions about whether his name would feature in my book (it does now, bro). They all make me so proud every single day.

  Many thanks to the fabulous Emma Mitchell for her help with formatting this, and all the other books in the series. She’s a fountain of knowledge and an absolute diamond to work with. Huge thanks also to Kate Noble for her assistance. I can’t thank these ladies enough for everything they have and continue to do.

  To my fellow authors, Andrew Barrett and Eileen Wharton – I would never have been able to get them ready to go back into the world without their help and advice. Thank you doesn’t seem a strong enough word.

  My friends are my rocks – constant support through good and bad, and not being too shy to tell me when I’m doing something I shouldn’t be! You know who you are – but to mention a few names (by no means all) Claire, Angela, Dionne, Rachel, Vicky, Eileen, and Char. Keep filling the world with your outstanding sparkle.

  Finally, I’d like to thank YOU, the reader who has bought this novel. Writing really wouldn’t be possible without each and every one of you, whether I know you or not, you make my dreams a reality and that is something I ‘ll be forever grateful for. To all the fabulous folk who’ve left me reviews or read and enjoyed this and would like to leave a review, thank you for this also.

  Massive thanks also to the online book clubs, real life book clubs and libraries who all help make writing and reading my passion.