Devotion
Alex Sinclair
Copyright © 2019 Alex Sinclair
The right of to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in
accordance Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in 2019 by Bloodhound Books
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be
reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in
writing of the publisher or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the
terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living
or dead, is purely coincidental.
www.bloodhoundbooks.com
Print ISBN 978-1-913419-17-2
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Acknowledgments
A note from the publisher
Love crime, thriller and mystery books?
You will also enjoy:
To my girls
Prologue
Katherine - Now
Someone is watching me. I can feel it on my skin. I take a moment in the darkness of the rain-soaked night to sense their presence from a distance. It's not until I slowly turn my head and allow my wide eyes to adjust to the black that I see them standing in the open doorway to the room I'm staying in. I always keep the door shut.
In the middle of the frame, a hooded figure looms, brandishing a knife in one gloved hand, the kind I've seen people use when they go hunting. It's him. I know it.
I try to move an inch, but every muscle in my body seizes. Frozen and bathed in the moonlight glimmering off the side of the sharp blade, my breath stutters. Can he tell if I'm awake? Does he realize that I see him there? What am I supposed to do? My heart pounds with a dull agony in my chest as I remain crippled with indecision.
He doesn't move, but I understand this isn't a trick of the eyes or a cruel joke my brain is playing on me. This is happening. I am about to enter the situation we spend our entire lives seeking to avoid: fight or flight.
As if proving to govern the world around me, I break through the fear immobilizing my body and reach for the bedside lamp. My shaking hand fumbles with the base until I find the switch. I push it in, hearing the click penetrate the quiet night air. No light fills the void. The shadows hold their control. I press the button again.
Nothing.
That's when I realize the bright alarm clock that also sits on the bedside table is dead. The power is out. Or he's cut it.
One thought overwhelms me before I can make sense of anything else: Ava. I throw out both hands and pat around the mattress, trying to find my five-year-old daughter who should be snuggled up right beside me. I moved her in here when I went to bed.
She wasn't sleeping with me because of imagined monsters dwelling under her mattress. I made her sleep in my room so I knew she would be safe from him, but she's not here. And now I'm about to discover that some beasts are all too real.
"Ava," I call in a harsh whisper. I can't speak any louder. Not with this panic muting my vocal cords while he gawks at me and hovers a short distance away from my bed in the night.
There's no response. I try again, a little stronger. "Ava. Where are you?"
No answer.
He doesn't move. Instead, he twists the knife and rolls it about, as if eager to find something to cut and slice open with its sharp edge.
I have one last play at my disposal before I make the choice I am dreading more than anything else. I slap at my bedside stand and feel for my cell, hoping to discover it and enable its flashlight. Scanning the entire table with the palm of my hand proves fruitless. There's nothing but a glass of water, the lamp, and the dead alarm clock.
A soft chuckle pierces the room in the form of a sharp rasp of breath that comes from the doorway. Is this a game to him? Has it been all along? That's when I acknowledge how long he has planned this. He took note where Ava would be. I have to move.
I fall out of bed and recover as fast as I can before I run for the window in the opposite direction, getting my fight-or-flight answer. A thick curtain only three quarters closed stands in my way to freedom. There's no other escape out of this room apart from the blocked doorway.
As I claw at the window, I look back at my intruder and see him walk toward me, taking his time. The knife flows and dances through the air. An invisible force takes over me again, grabbing hold as I accept who is watching me with mocking eyes.
This is no hallucination. I am not losing my mind. My husband is here, and he will finally kill me if I don't escape.
1
Katherine - Before
A lot of crazy things can happen in a short amount of time. For me, life is a blur of monotonous routine where one day rolls into the next. But in the space of less than two weeks, I got engaged and married.
It feels good to be home. I've lived in Battery Beach, Oregon, most of my thirty-four years. I left the small coastal city when I turned eighteen to attend college and see how the outside world worked, but the town called me back after only ten years, drawing me in with its simple beauty. This time, I was only gone for a short while for my honeymoon.
Things never seem to change in Battery Beach as I stare out the window of my husband Corey's Nissan Maxima as we drive to work together. My five-year-old daughter Ava sits in the back, singing away to herself as usual. It still sounds so odd to say the word 'husband' in my head considering Corey and I only got married less than a week ago.
Even stranger is thinking about my new surname. I've been Katherine Armstrong for my entire life.
It will take some time to get used to calling myself Mrs. Katherine Grayson. I would have kept my maiden name, but I knew sticking to tradition was important to Corey.
We're returning from a whirlwind honeymoon to head back to our local K-5 school where we work as teachers. I have the pleasure of teaching a class of first-grade kids while Corey handles the fifth graders. Ava also attends kindergarten at our school, making our lives so much easier.
It's crazy to think eleven days ago Corey and I weren't even engaged and were unsure what the future held. We'd only just moved into our new rental when Corey popped the question. I said yes without thinking.
Corey isn't Ava's father, so neither of us wanted to bother with some expensive wedding. Instead, we grabbed two friends and rushed down to the courthouse that day and got married. We then had to beg our principal to get any time off so we could celebrate our nuptials with an impromptu trip to Vegas. My closest friend in the world, Annette, volunteered to take care of Ava while we were away. I owe Annette for helping us out at such short notice.
It all happened in a crazy blur, but I'm happy we got married. Never has a decision seemed so scary at first, but I'm glad I pushed through. Many people would call us nuts for taking such a huge step so quickly, but they don't understand how much we love each other. Plus, Corey and Ava have become like father and daughter. What more could I ask for?
Corey and I have only been together for six months, but when you realize you want to be with someone for the rest of your life, you have no choice but to dive into that commitment headfirst.
We arrive at work a tad earlier than usual to settle back into the swing of things. The sign for Battery Beach Elementary School stands proud and tall as it always has, fighting against the close-by ocean air, inviting us in. We walk across the grounds and drop Ava off at before-school care prior to her all-day kindergarten class. She attends school four days per week from nine till three. On the fifth day, she goes to a local daycare. It's a lot for a five-year-old, but we believe she can handle it.
I love my job, probably a little too much. First-grade children are at that magical age where they are keen to learn about the world while still holding respect for any authoritative adults they have in their lives. They remind me of Ava more than I realize. I don't understand how Corey handles the fifth graders. They'd eat me alive within the first hour of class despite them only being ten to eleven years old.
We reach the main building. I stop for a moment to breathe and contain my excitement for when I see everybody. We announced our marriage over Facebook like it was another post. People were shocked and full of questions. With our honeymoon to sort out, we didn't have time to answer them and accept any congratulations that were coming our way. I'm sure there were some lectures and warnings from a select few, but it was too late for any of that. We got married. Done and dusted.
As we walk inside the entrance to the school, I'm surprised not to see Annette behind the Perspex barrier of the front office. She works as an administrative assistant to the small school's principal and comes in a full hour earlier than Corey and me. In fact, none of the office staff are present which is odd, given it's now eight thirty. The students and parents will file in shortly.
"We must have scared them all off," Corey jokes.
I react with mere confusion as we continue down the corridor to the faculty lounge. Maybe there are a few teachers floating around that can tell us why the office is devoid of life. If not, I don't know what's happened in the short time we've been away.
2
Katherine
When Corey and I step through the open entrance to the faculty lounge, a group of people greet us by shouting 'surprise.' All the teachers and office staff fill the small space. A banner hangs above on the far wall that says, 'Congratulations Mr. & Mrs. Grayson!'
"Oh my god," I blurt as my hands fly to my mouth in shock. My eyes begin to water as I take it all in.
Annette is front and center of the grand gesture. She walks forward and gives me a tight hug, whispering further salutations into my ear.
"Thank you so much," I say, knowing Annette would have been the one to make this all happen. Sure I get along with most people in the school, but I've known Annette since we were kids. She, like many of the locals around town, has lived in Battery Beach her whole life.
Annette waves me off. "What, this? Piece of cake. Took no time at all to organize these guys," she says with a chuckle. We both understand how difficult it is to get anyone in the school to agree on how things should be run when we have our meetings. How Annette pulled this off seems impossible.
"Thank you again. We really appreciate this a lot, don't we?" I ask Corey.
He steps forward and thanks Annette with a smile. She gives him a quick hug and congratulates us again.
"We do appreciate it," Corey says. "This all happened so fast, it's nice to know people care."
"Of course they do," Annette says. "You and Kat are part of the BBES family. Now, enough of this gratitude. I need to see the rock you bought for your wife." Annette's hands fall down to my left hand and studies the diamond ring Corey purchased for me in Vegas. I insisted upon him getting me something modest and affordable, but he wouldn't listen.
Corey and I continue to take what congratulations we can squeeze in until time forces the staff to dissipate and go to their assigned rooms before all hell breaks loose. The school doesn't rest. At least not until the summer break.
I say goodbye to Annette and Corey then head to my classroom to enjoy a day of fun with my students. They'd managed to not send my temporary replacement running and worked through most of their planned material. Some children have lots of questions for me regarding my sudden wedding. I suppose most of their parents got married before they were born. There were also plenty whose parents had divorced and moved on to other relationships. Those children had no questions and remained quiet. My new name is the biggest pill to swallow with most of the kids still calling me Miss Armstrong.
Time passed by so quickly. I couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not given how tired I am. We got back from Vegas late last night on a flight into Portland so we could enjoy every minute of our short honeymoon. We only picked up Ava early this morning. I've been high on adrenaline all day. Now I'm crashing.
There is one fun task I need to complete before our trip home together with Corey.
I return to the staffroom with Ava holding my hand. The 'congratulations' banner had been taken down and given to me at lunchtime. I asked if I could keep it, not realizing how much I love seeing Mr. and Mrs. Grayson written in any format.
I head over to my appointed mail slot to check for my daily surprise. Professionally, the staff hardly use the aging system anymore with email and the school's network. But every day, I find a handwritten note placed in my slot from a certain special someone.
Corey is a hopeless romantic. Each day, he writes me a little love note and places it in my mail slot. I figure most of his material gets plagiarized from the web, but I appreciate and love the effort he goes to.
When I reach inside the waist-length slot, I find nothing but the cold aluminum surface of an empty space. I squat down and take a proper look to check if I'm getting confused with a neighbor's spot. I have my hands in the right place, seeing the label from my old surname, Armstrong. It reminds me I need to make up more than a dozen labels for my classroom and update all of my records online now that I am a Grayson.
I rise and step back from the columns of mail slots to see if Corey's note has fallen to the ground. It must be here. For the last three months, he hasn't missed a day, never once failing to write me a note that told me how much he cares for and loves me. I feel a pit in my stomach. Is the romance over now that we are hitched? This has to be a mistake.
"Mommy?" Ava says.
"Yeah, sweetie?"
"Where's your note from Corey?"
My cell interrupts me with a pulse in my pocket before I can answer. I already know it will be a text from
Corey, so I pull my phone out and read a message saying he is ready and waiting for us at the car.
"Mommy?" Ava presses.
"I'm not sure, baby. I guess he was too busy today. Let's not worry about it, though."
Ava nods and continues waiting patiently for me.
I shuffle away from my empty mail slot and make my way past Annette in the office. I don't want to chat to her without a note from Corey. It's stupid, I realize, but I can't do it. Instead, I wave goodbye with a smile and thank her again before I head out to Corey's car with Ava. All the while, only one thought runs through my brain: why didn't Corey leave me a note?
3
The love notes. I hate these stupid pointless scraps of paper. For months they drove me to the point of madness until I could no longer stand it. They had to stop. So for once, Katherine won't get one of her precious love letters in her mail slot. I know it will make her fear the worst, but maybe she needs a good dose of reality for a change.
Devotion Page 1