The Mistress - an Erotic Noir Novel
Page 13
She knew he must have drugged Terrence, but it had all blurred together in a haze as she moved towards the door.
He kept a tight hold on her arm, keeping her from getting to the door. “Come on, Eva. You know you can trust me, right?” he asked, the meek man she knew sounding so obsessively eerie in the dimly lit guest house.
“I don’t trust you to fucking drug me!” she hissed as she tugged her arm harder, “Martin, let me go. I won’t tell, but you have to let me go!”
“I can’t!” he said to her insistently the needle in hand, “Why don’t you see you need me, Eva?! You’ve fucked up your life and you need me,” he pleaded with her incessantly.
Her bruised ego made her rise the statuette, shakily as she stared at him, “The police are going to be here soon. You need to get out of here.”
He screwed up his face in anger and confusion, “Why? Are you going to turn on me, Eva?” His eyes flitted to the statuette, “Put that down and stop being absurd! You can’t hit me, I’m your best friend! What would you do without me?!”
“You’re trying to drug me!” she protested, her hand shaking and her vision blurring. Despite it all, he was right about that one thing, and the way her jaw clenched was more to try to steel herself than to deny it. “I just want to go home!”
There was no reasoning with him, however. He kept advancing, and it was only out of desperation that she brought the statuette down, aiming for his torso with all her might.
The blow hit at his shoulder and she heard something snap beneath the heavy object. His collarbone had broken or fractured and in the startled state he cried out and dropped the needle, the glass shattering on the carpet as he stumbled back to the wall. “Eva!” he cried out in disbelief. “How could you?! After all I did for you!”
Her eyes widened in panic, as if in disbelief of what just happened, and she stared down at him with pity and scorn as she moved back towards the door, “Martin, I’m going to go get help!” she screeched in fright.
Martin bent down with his back to the wall and he tried to pick up the needle, but with his arm hanging limply at his side he failed and called out, “Don’t go, Eva! Stay with me!”
And as she reached the door, turning its knob with her shaky hand she heard calls coming from outside, “Eva! What are you doing there?!” It was the voice of Allen with Max following behind with “We’re coming!”
Chapter 12
It was hours later at the police station when Allen brought her a mug of hot cocoa and sat beside her. Detective Max Eisen approached with a concerned look on his face, “He’s confessed... well, in his own way,” he said sadly, referring to Martin. “And there’s enough on Turing to see him spend the rest of his life in a cell, Eva.”
She nodded, holding the cup but not drinking it. She felt so empty and hollow, and worry had crept into every available facet of her mind. Swallowing back the cotton balls in her throat, she looked up at the handsome man, and even in spite of her concern and anguish, she couldn’t help that her subconscious felt a little thrill of delight having the two men so near to her.
“What about Sinclair?” she asked, and her voice cracked. Trying to cover it she added on, “and Russell?”
With a shrug of his shoulders Max regretfully stated, “We don’t know yet. I’m sorry, Eva.” Sighing he sat on the other side of her. “Martin swears he killed Sylvia by accident. That he was only trying to get her to see the truth of her husband so she’d end the affair, and you’d be his. Pushing her out the window wasn’t intentional, and... I believe him on that, for what it’s worth. Which isn’t much.”
Allen, usually so quiet managed to offer up, “So... little Martin tried to kill Sinclair and Russell to cover it up?”
Max nodded, “That and to get rid of those he felt were between him and Eva.”
Her lip curled as she slumped in the chair, “So it’s all my fault,” she frowned, only taking a moment for self-pity before she looked to Max, “Did you figure out who Cynthia was? Is she okay?”
Placing a hand on her shoulder he said, “It’s not your fault. Martin is... a very twisted young man,” he stated with certainty. “And Cynthia... she’s a niece of Sylvia’s we believe. We haven’t spoken to her yet, but it fits. She left Clarford and Stocktun a year ago to live with family in the country. I guess she finally got tired of being quiet about what happened with Turing.”
“Poor girl,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed at the touch of his hand, so heavy and comforting. “Hopefully this will help her.” Everything Eva was saying came out so dry and lifeless, not like the perky young student of only a couple of days before. “Did Turing really come to my place last night?”
Hesitating he said, “No. It doesn’t seem so. Turing... I believe, only showed up at the manor because he was after Martin. I don’t know for sure yet, but the two of them seem to have been in on some of their crimes together. Not the murder, Turing sincerely doesn’t seem to know anything about that, but we can’t be sure. It was rather convenient after all. But the old doctor had shared his... ‘practices’ on young women with Martin.”
She looked as though a knife had cut through her. Martin could have warned her. He knew she was going to visit him, and she felt bile rise within her. The realization was too much for her to bare, and she finally, gratefully broke down in struggled tears, nearly dropping the cocoa from her hands as she shook and trembled.
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BIOGRAPHY
J.E. & M. Keep love to combine fantasy, scifi, horror, romance and mystery into exciting and titillating novels.
They are long term, loving partners in a very happy relationship and because of this, they love to torture their characters. Dark romance touches all of their stories in one way or another, from elicit trysts to forbidden love.
Some of their work contains dubious consent and erotic pain, so it’s not for the faint of heart. Their stories are often called twisted and arousing – at the same time.
All work is 18+, trigger warnings available on the second page of every book. If you want to hear about new releases, sign up for the newsletter!
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© 2013 J.E. and M. Keep.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imaginations. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by M. Keep.
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