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MURDER ON CARTER'S STREET
CHAPTER 3
I couldn’t believe Evelyn was no more. Why now? This was a lady I knew from nowhere and she happened to be the only person to have witnessed Evelyn’s death. It was still raining heavily. This day had just happened to be worst in my life. I offered to give her a place to rest for the night in my house since her ex-boyfriend could be anywhere and I felt the need to protect her.
When we came to the house, I opened the door and ushered her inside. I told her to wait for me by the door while I rushed to the guest room to get her a towel. After I handed it to her, I went to the bedroom to change. Upon seeing Marissa’s calm sleeping state, I remembered Evelyn. Why would she even be asleep when she knew her mom hadn’t returned home? Anger boiled within me. I walked closer to her and tapped on her shoulder. Marissa wasn’t a light sleeper either. I yanked her arm harshly and that certainly did the job.
She was wide awake now and the first question she chose to ask was, “Why’re you in our bedroom soaking wet?” I had no time for this again so I did the necessary and broke the news to her. Without saying a word to me, she got down from the bed, walked to the bathroom and shut the door. I called out to her, but she didn’t answer. I walked to the bathroom door and knocked while I continued to call out to her.
When I turned the doorknob, I saw Marissa staring right back at me with tears in her eyes. I felt sorry for her. Yet I was angry with her. I came closer to her and pulled her into my arms. She wrapped her arms around me and sobbed. I rubbed my hand on her back and whispered comforting words to her.
After I held her for a while, she pulled away and wiped her tears with her hands. However, no matter the times she wiped those tears more kept trickling down her face. I thought she didn’t care about her mom. Marissa was just unpredictable.
She was her mom’s only child. Her dad died of leukemia when she was sixteen. She had no one except for her mom. Marissa looked at herself in the mirror and asked how her mom died. I narrated the story and informed her about the lady in our home. Her face quickly morphed from concern to anger. She whipped around, pushed me aside and ran out of the room. I called out to her while I followed suite. When she saw the lady standing by the door with the towel in her hand, she walked closer to her and slapped her hard on the cheek. Oh, shit! I didn’t see that coming.
I held Marissa back before she could pounce on her and beat the living shit out of her. I told the lady to go to the living room while I spoke to Marissa. She disliked how nice I acted towards the lady whom through her, her mom had to lose her life.
I told her to calm down since this wasn’t going to help any of us. I placed a kiss on her neck and I felt her relax in my arms. I slowly unwrapped my arms around her and took a step back. She swiveled and glared at me. She rolled her eyes, pushed me to the side and walked away. What did I do now? I shook my head and chuckled inwardly as I followed closely behind her before she hurts the lady once again.
Marissa sat on the couch across from the lady, crossed her legs and intently stared at her. I perched next to Marissa and held her hand in mine. She retracted her hand and scooted away from me. Oh God! Before I could utter a word, Marissa spoke up. In an angry tone, she asked the lady why she had to ask her mom for help instead of settling her differences with her ex-boyfriend? My brows furrowed and I looked at her as if she had grown two heads.
Did she even listen to anything I had said in the bathroom? I told the lady not answer and that got Marissa riled. She didn’t understand why I was defending someone who had got her mom killed. Meanwhile, Marissa was the one who had sent her sick mom out of our home late in the evening and she expected me to be angry with someone who had nothing to do with all this in the first place. I turned in my seat, looked straight in her eyes and told her that, “You killed your mother.”
Her jaw ticked, and her fists clenched. Angry tears began to roll down her cheeks. She hastily wiped her tears and turned away from me. In that instance, I regretted what I had said to her. When I tried to touch her, she stood up without sparing me a glance. My brows shot up when she offered the lady a place to sleep in our home with no hint of coldness in her voice. She even went ahead to give her some clothes to wear for the night. Lastly, she asked her if she had eaten?
The lady shook her head and Marissa nodded with a hint of smile playing on her lips. She went to our bedroom, came back with a pair of baggy shirts and shorts, and handed it to the lady who seemed quite surprised at Marissa’s sudden change of attitude, but I wasn’t. I knew what Marissa was doing. She was trying to play her reverse psychology card on me again and I didn’t like it.
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I couldn’t believe Evelyn was no more. Why now? This was a lady I knew from nowhere and she happened to be the only person to have witnessed Evelyn’s death. It was still raining heavily. This day had just happened to be worst in my life. I offered to give her a place to rest for the night in my house since her ex-boyfriend could be anywhere and I felt the need to protect her.
When we came to the house, I opened the door and ushered her inside. I told her to wait for me by the door while I rushed to the guest room to get her a towel. After I handed it to her, I went to the bedroom to change. Upon seeing Marissa’s calm sleeping state, I remembered Evelyn. Why would she even be asleep when she knew her mom hadn’t returned home? Anger boiled within me. I walked closer to her and tapped on her shoulder. Marissa wasn’t a light sleeper either. I yanked her arm harshly and that certainly did the job.
She was wide awake now and the first question she chose to ask was, “Why’re you in our bedroom soaking wet?” I had no time for this again so I did the necessary and broke the news to her. Without saying a word to me, she got down from the bed, walked to the bathroom and shut the door. I called out to her, but she didn’t answer. I walked to the bathroom door and knocked while I continued to call out to her.
When I turned the doorknob, I saw Marissa staring right back at me with tears in her eyes. I felt sorry for her. Yet I was angry with her. I came closer to her and pulled her into my arms. She wrapped her arms around me and sobbed. I rubbed my hand on her back and whispered comforting words to her.
After I held her for a while, she pulled away and wiped her tears with her hands. However, no matter the times she wiped those tears more kept trickling down her face. I thought she didn’t care about her mom. Marissa was just unpredictable.
She was her mom’s only child. Her dad died of leukemia when she was sixteen. She had no one except for her mom. Marissa looked at herself in the mirror and asked how her mom died. I narrated the story and informed her about the lady in our home. Her face quickly morphed from concern to anger. She whipped around, pushed me aside and ran out of the room. I called out to her while I followed suite. When she saw the lady standing by the door with the towel in her hand, she walked closer to her and slapped her hard on the cheek. Oh, shit! I didn’t see that coming.
I held Marissa back before she could pounce on her and beat the living shit out of her. I told the lady to go to the living room while I spoke to Marissa. She disliked how nice I acted towards the lady whom through her, her mom had to lose her life.
I told her to calm down since this wasn’t going to help any of us. I placed a kiss on her neck and I felt her relax in my arms. I slowly unwrapped my arms around her and took a step back. She swiveled and glared at me. She rolled her eyes, pushed me to the side and walked away. What did I do now? I shook my head and chuckled inwardly as I followed closely behind her before she hurts the lady once again.
Marissa sat on the couch across from the lady, crossed her legs and intently stared at her. I perched next to Marissa and held her hand in mine. She retracted her hand and scooted away from me. Oh God! Before I could utter a word, Marissa spoke up. In an angry tone, she asked the lady why she had to ask her mom for help instead of settling her differences with her ex-boyfriend? My brows furrowed and I looked at her as if she had grown two heads.
Did she even listen to anything I had said in the bathroom? I told the lady not answer and that got Marissa riled. She didn’t understand why I was defending someone who had got her mom killed. Meanwhile, Marissa was the one who had sent her sick mom out of our home late in the evening and she expected me to be angry with someone who had nothing to do with all this in the first place. I turned in my seat, looked straight in her eyes and told her that, “You killed your mother.”
Her jaw ticked, and her fists clenched. Angry tears began to roll down her cheeks. She hastily wiped her tears and turned away from me. In that instance, I regretted what I had said to her. When I tried to touch her, she stood up without sparing me a glance. My brows shot up when she offered the lady a place to sleep in our home with no hint of coldness in her voice. She even went ahead to give her some clothes to wear for the night. Lastly, she asked her if she had eaten?
The lady shook her head and Marissa nodded with a hint of smile playing on her lips. She went to our bedroom, came back with a pair of baggy shirts and shorts, and handed it to the lady who seemed quite surprised at Marissa’s sudden change of attitude, but I wasn’t. I knew what Marissa was doing. She was trying to play her reverse psychology card on me again and I didn’t like it.
© All Rights Reserved
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