Murder Knocks Twice Novels & Stories

She then sat up, wincing slightly, but I saw her glance at the knife in my hand and knew she understood. The scratches grew louder. Now they were at the door and along the window frame. One after the other. It sounded like fingers. Or claws. Audrey looked both scared and sick at the same time. I moved toward the door, motioning for Audrey to stay behind me. “Don’t move,” I said. The air turned thick, the room was still silent, save for my ragged breathing. Then came the knock. Three short, desperate knocks. Followed by a choked cough.

"There's one more thing... Our system shows there might be more than just one mortgage on your property." I was stunned. "What does that mean?" "Besides the 150,000 dollars you already knew about, there was another private mortgage for 75,000 dollars. The registration date was December 23rd." December 23rd. I had been at work then, too. Which meant... The grand total was 225,000 dollars. I let out a long breath. "Alright, got it. Thanks." I left the registration center and headed straight for the police station. I filed a report.

His voice cracked as he kept striking the already half-unconscious man. At first I thought it was all in my fragment, he was my imagination. I sobs now my stupid head is playing games with me. We never started of in a good way, and each little conversation starts and end with disagreements. His punch’s kept flying on the man’s face, unstoppable, furiously and deadly. I realized it’s throughly not my head but he was actually there, knocking the man half dead without minding if he died. I scrambled to my feet and rushed to stop him before he turned into a murderer.

I pressed my hands against my eyes, trying to stop the tears that were threatening. “He’s dead,” I whispered to the empty room. “Knox is dead. You saw the bracelet. You heard Tiny’s confirmation. He’s dead and you need to accept that and stop…” A knock on my door cut off my spiral. I froze. Dmitri never knocked. He had a key. If he wanted to come in, he just came in. Maria always called out before knocking. So who…? The knock came again. Harder this time. I stood and moved to the door, my heart pounding.

Given the dangerous reality of the neighborhood she lived in, an unexpected knock felt like a direct threat. The heavy knock came again. Three sharp, deliberate strikes against the cheap wood.

A heavy, suffocating silence followed my knock. The loud thumping of my knuckles seemed to just die against the thick wood, and only the distant, chilling echo of an iron security door deeper inside the suite bounced back to us. I turned my head slowly, locking a confused look with Ella, whose face had gone completely pale again. Refusing to be ignored, I raised my bandaged fist and knocked a second time, hitting the wood much harder.

A knock sounded at the door. We both froze for half a second. Then Gage drove into me to the hilt and came with a low, guttural groan against my neck, pulsing thick and hot inside me while the knock came a second time. He held himself buried through every spurt, hand still locked over my mouth, body rigid as he filled me. Only when the last tremor left him did he slowly pull out.

“Scream all you want, bitch. No one gives a shit around here. Just spread those legs a little wider for me. Let me feel that pretty cunt. I’ll make it worth your while… maybe even knock a few bucks off what your mom owes.” Just as his face dipped lower, his wet lips almost touching my neck and his fingers starting to push under the edge of my panties, three loud, powerful knocks sounded at the door. BANG. BANG. BANG. The knocks were so heavy and sharp they echoed through the entire apartment like thunder, vibrating the thin walls and making the cheap light fixture above us rattle. Dave froze instantly, his grip on my wrists tightening for one terrifying second. I froze too, breath caught in

This knock was careful and deliberate, from the way the knock sounded… the person really decided whether to knock or not, but did it anyway. I sat up suddenly; my heart was already beating too fast before I'd even reached my room's door. The mark on my wrist was warm again under my sleeve, like it knew something I didn't know at that point. "Who is it?" I said in a calm, low tone. I was trying so hard not to wake up others. I didn’t get a reply from the person who was knocking. The knock came again instead; this time, it came three times, exactly the same rhythm as before.

“He had a Glock 19 with a suppressor, which we recovered. A forged security badge. A burner phone. We’re running his prints now.” “Then you know he’s a hired killer.” “I know he’s a man with a gun. I don’t know what he was doing in that building.” He glanced up. “Here’s my problem, Miss Kim. The medical examiner says the first blow was probably enough to disable him.” “He was still moving.” “Was he?” I stopped. “Because the second strike,” Alvarez said gently, “came after he had dropped his weapon. After he was on his knees. I need you to tell me why you hit him again.”