Page 153 - The Houseguest

lived there. I knew it was her way of gathering intel. I nodded, gave her an obligatory hug and walked away.
I had not anticipated KJ’s presence on the scene. It was one part of the schematic that was never penned, as I knew there was little chance she’d be at her summer home in the winter months. The place was always a ghost town during the off season. Now I had two changes to make to my perfect plan. First things first, I had to disprove Rachel’s claims of pregnancy. I drove up to the gravel driveway so fast that small rocks shot out like small projectiles in all directions from underneath the spinning tires. I slammed the car into park and walked inside the house, glancing toward the direction of KJ’s home. What if she decided to stop by before she left? What if... No, I had to stop my mind from racing and focus on the task at hand.
I opened the box and threw it beside her on the bed as I proceeded to unlock her shackles, “You know what to do. You are a lying bitch so I’ll need proof of such an evil spawn.” She picked up the box and tearfully walked into the bathroom. I waited and paced outside like some nervous father-to-be. I watched the clock...two minutes...three minutes. I waited another few minutes before knocking on the door, though I doubt it was locked. Maybe it was a moment of weakness, but I wanted to give her some privacy to absorb the outcome on her own, one way or the other.
Though there was no response, I opened the door. Rachel was on the tile floor, cradled in a fetal position sobbing uncontrollably. Standing there observing her, I assessed my own emotions. Was she upset because it was positive, or because it was negative, and she had
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The Houseguest by Linda Ellis www.LindaEllis.life