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Chapter Twenty-three
With so much force this time, he pushed it down with his feet. No action. Nothing! The car didn’t stop and just kept moving up the bridge. Immediately, his head swerved sideways to see Theresa who looked very worried as she watched him hit the brake pedal endlessly. He was beginning to lose control of the car but he tried so desperately to work the steering wheel.
With one hand, he unbuckled her seat belt and unlocked the doors with the buttons on his side. Surprisingly, he feared for her more than himself. Theresa’s breathing had become heavy and fast as she watched the car go straight, up the bridge. He noticed this and tried to bring her to calm and listen to him, amidst controlling the car that was moving with so much speed already. “Theresa, Look at me!” he called loudly.
And she turned to him, her breathing still heavy and fast. She had placed a hand over her chest, squeezing her shirt tight. Her heart was throbbing
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Wrenched Chapter Twenty-four
Robert stormed into the agency, making his way to Theresa’s office in quick purposeful steps. Her head immediately snapped sideways when he burst into her office with a scowl on his face and she wondered what had put him in an upsetting mood early this morning. “Good morning Mr. Johnson,” she greeted, getting up from the seat. He didn’t answer and just threw the file he had in hand to her desk and she picked it up to read. It was the contract concerning his biography. And from the look of things, quite a number of changes had been made. “Oh no–“ she had begun to protest when Robert cut her off. “Margaret told me you were burgled.” She was about to open her mouth and speak but Sam’s frenzy cut her. “Burgled?” he exclaimed in shock. He was just outside her office when he heard Robert say. “When?” “Last night. Apparently, she told Margaret to keep shut about it,” Robert answered, shaking his head.
Wrenched Chapter Twenty-five
“I’d welcome you but you’re no stranger here,” he said, reaching for her bags which she handed to him. “Well, a welcome celebration sounds nice.” “Oh yeah? Then I’ll see you in the pool,” he said with a wry grin. Theresa swallowed. “Pool?” Sam gave the bag to Alfie who took it upstair, to the guest room. “Yes,” Sam turned to her. “A pool party. Just you and I. You know, with champagne and Whitney Houston songs,” he articulated detailedly, Theresa was sure her heart fell to her stomach. “If I hadn’t known better, I’d say you were asking me to a date.” He threw his head back in laughter, emmitting sniggers afterwards. “You might just be right Theresa.” Just then, Margaret emerged from down the stairs beaming. She was obviously excited she’d have a ‘gist buddy’ again, since Mary. “Oh
Wrenched Chapter Twenty-six
Four days had gone by since she moved into the Johnson’s house and so far, she’s been enjoying her stay: courtesy of Margaret. The only ‘difficulty’ she presumed she’d encounter: Sam, had barely been around in the past days as he had attended a board meeting, alongside Robert in the outskirts of the city and they’d only just came home yesterday. Sam devoured his pancakes and citrus juice in delight. If there’s anything he had missed more than seeing Theresa’s face, it would be Margaret’s cooking. Due to the location of the meeting, the only good hotel’s in the area had been booked. So, he had to stay at a motel and the breakfast that was served made him nauseous. Thank goodness that was over. Theresa on the other hand, enjoyed the luxury of Margaret’s cooking, especially grateful that she didn’t have to eat peanut butter sandwich every morning for breakfast. She emerged from up the stairs in a black and white s
Wrenched Chapter Twenty-seven
He hit it again. Nothing. With so much force this time, he pushed it down with his feet. No action. Nothing! The car didn’t stop and just kept moving up the bridge. Immediately, his head swerved sideways to see Theresa who looked very worried as she watched him hit the brake pedal endlessly. He was beginning to lose control of the car but he tried so desperately to work the steering wheel. With one hand, he unbuckled her seat belt and unlocked the doors with the buttons on his side. Surprisingly, he feared for her more than himself. Theresa’s breathing had become heavy and fast as she watched the car go straight, up the bridge. He noticed this and tried to bring her to calm and listen to him, amidst controlling the car that was moving with so much speed already. “Theresa, Look at me!” he called loudly. And she turned to him, her breathing still heavy and fast. She had placed a hand over her c
Wrenched Chapter Twenty-eight
The next day came by much slower than she had anticipated. A part of her dreaded that the detective might have just been right about Robert all along.After she hung up the cell yesterday, she couldn't concentrate on anything other than what Veronica had said. As much she tried to get it off her head, that was all she thought about the night before.Even when Sam called to check on her, she seemed 'off' as he had described to Margaret when he asked after Theresa was fine. Her replies were monotonous which frustrated him but all the more, worried him, he itched to drive back immediately just to see her.She was in a cab, subconscious of anything and everything happening around her and hadn't realized that they had been in a particular spot for the last ten minutes. The driver even turned off the ignition and was half asleep, sweating profusely.Theresa snapped back to reality when the woman wheeling the car behind them kept honkin
Wrenched Chapter Twenty-nine
Robert had just finished conversing with Sam over the phone, who narrated the details of the incident. He had informed him of all the middle aged cop said about ‘someone’ sabotaging his car which led Robert to think back to the note he had received in his mail weeks ago. Could this be related to the bloody note he had received in his mail? The note which read, ‘They’re next’? He stood by the window in his office, gazing into nothingness as he recalled the words of Simon Tunes thirty years ago. It was odd that everything had suddenly began to go awry at the same period, thirty years ago, Simon Tunes was imprisoned for killing his step brother who was also Robert’s best friend. “When I get out, you must suffer ten times what I will,” were the exact words of the bloodshot Simon when the police cuffed him and took him away. Add to the list of unsolved mysteries in his head was the identity of George Brown and why on earth he killed his wife. Simon Tunes
Wrenched Chapter Thirty
George yelped, startled at the invasion. He was wearing a brown singlet and puffed out smoke from his nose, a cigarette in mouth. “What the hell man?” he barked at the huge man who had just broken his door as he assessed the broken lock. “You’re gonna pay for that–“ he was saying when he saw that face. The man had moved to the side, giving Robert enough space to stalk in, a smirk on his hard tight face. It was certain George obviously recognized him as his eyes widened in shock and the cigarette fell to the ground. “George Brown,” Robert called in a whisper, irking at the smell of the cigarette in the completely disorganized room. The small bed in the far end of the room was clustered with a heap of raggedy clothes all over and under it. Snack wrappers at every corner. Only a ray of light shone into the almost dark room through a small window and a table he had been leanin
Wrenched Chapter Thirty-one
Robert gulped down what was his ninth shot of tequila, his face crumpled tight as he downed another one almost immediately. He let out a huff at the effect the alcohol was beginning to have on him and yet again, poured himself another shot. This seemed like the only remedy for all the different emotions he was feeling at the moment. After he’d left George Brown’s confinement, he’d gone to the bar, not stopping for any pleasantries with the lot who greeted him. He’d finally ‘taken care’ of the man behind Mary’s death, or at least, the executioner. He was supposed to feel some kind of relief right? But he didn’t feel anything, except more anger, more hatred, more emptiness, more pain. At some point, he doubted doing the exact same thing he did to George to Simon Tunes would make him feel any better. It was as if realisation dawned on him all over again: Mary wasn’t coming back. Even if he took care of all the people that might have ev
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