Presidential Cleaning: A Psychological Suspense Novel (12 page)

***

The door swung open and out from behind it peeked a face a never thought I’d see again; at least not in person.

‘Lila.’ I jumped to my feet, uncertain if smiling would be an accepted response.

‘I’m back Joe,’ she said, in the smallest of voices.

I wrapped my arms around her, losing myself in the moment. Warm tears streamed down my face as I buried my head into her hair, hints of her lemon scented shampoo tickling my nose.

‘Joe,’ she whispered, wiggling her way out of my embrace. ‘We need to talk. Things won’t go back to normal until we clear up a few things.’

I wasn’t sure if things would ever go back to normal. After all she had learned about me- after leaving the way she did- I knew that life with her would never be the same.

‘Anything you want, Lila,’ I replied, trying hard to keep my hands by my side rather than wrapping them around her again.

She dragged her suitcase along the floor, heading to the room that I’d plastered with photos of her, the crime scene that had been made out of our home and bits and pieces of information that I needed in order to catch Peterman. I knew that I should ripped that room apart and restored it to the way it used to be. However, not thinking that Lila would ever return, I didn’t see the need.

‘Um, Lila, I’m not sure you want to go in there.’

She ignored my words, pushed the door open and froze as she noticed what I’d made out of the place.

‘You were dedicated,’ she said, before closing the door and parking the suitcase in front of it. ‘I think we should move.’

There was too much negativity in this place. Negativity that would hinder our ability to move forward. ‘We should move,’ I agreed.

I stood there, watching her as she looked around the place, perhaps trying to find bits of it that still felt like home. There was a coldness in the apartment and I couldn’t imagine how it felt for her to stride back into a place that had haunted her dreams.

‘We should start looking tomorrow. I’ll call the realtor.’

‘We’ll do whatever you want honey. You want to move, we can get out of here tomorrow.’

‘We can’t find a house that fast.’

‘We can stay in a hotel. Whatever it is you want, just name it.’

She rested a hand gently on my shoulder and squeezed. ‘I’m sorry things happened the way they did.’

‘I’m sorry I allowed them to happen.’

‘It’s not your fault and I understand that now.’

‘It is my fault, Lila. I should have known better than to get too comfortable. I should have known that the past doesn’t just disappear once you move into the future.’

‘I’m happy you didn’t give up until I was safe.’

‘Lila,’ I said softly. She looked at me and smiled a subtly smile. ‘Would it be okay if I kissed you?’

Lila leaned into me, tilted her head and allowed me to take her to place where nothing mattered but her and me.

***

Within a month, we’d packed up our old home and settled into our new. A nice bungalow in the South. The heat a constant reminder that the days were meant to be enjoyed and that the beach was intended for our serenity. For the first time in forever, we were comfortable. Lila’s night terrors occurred less and less frequently and I could tell that her mind was slowly but surely erasing the horrid picture that had been painted of me. She smiled fully. Laughed heartily. And loved wholly. The more she forgot about who I was, the more I forgot about it too.

I finally had everything I wanted again. The only difference was that I slept with an eye open and each move I made was a calculated one. There were many more Harry Petermans in the world, but I made sure that our lives were structured in a way that would keep them out. Lila needed to be kept safe and the only way to do that was to remember that trouble doesn’t warn when it’s coming but if you’re constantly looking out for it, you’ll spot it from a mile away.

Final Word

Thank you very much for reading my book. I hope you enjoyed it and found what you were looking for.

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If you enjoy Dystopian Fiction as much as me, make sure to check out some of my other novels. You can find links to my other titles, as well as a short excerpt of my newest book below.

My other Novels:

Prepper Central
(Click Here)

Presidential Cleaning
(Click Here)

Band of Preppers I
(Click Here)

Band of Preppers II
(Click Here)

Prepping for the Unknown I
(Click Here)

No Tomorrow
(Click Here)

6:00 Hours
(Click Here)

The Unforeseen Enemy
(Click Here)

Here is an excerpt of my new book ‘The Unforeseen Enemy: A Dystopian Novel’:

Chapter 1

My heart skipped beats, raced and refused to settle down. Through the tiny opening in the curtains, I saw the hooded figures cock their guns and charge towards what should have been our safe haven.

‘Dad,’ I whimpered, fighting back the hot tears that threatened to stream down my cheeks.

This was it; this was our time to feel the same wrath that had fallen upon so many of Parkland’s citizens.

Upon hearing my voice, dad stopped pacing around the room. His trembling fingers running through his short brown hair, his face lined with terror, I could see the defeat in his eyes. ‘Grab something, Liv. Food, batteries, a knife, anything that can fit into your pocket, grab it.’

There was no convincing my tears to refrain from flowing. Mom took dad’s words as her cue to start filling her pockets; moving through the kitchen drawers with rapid speed. For a second, I froze, not wanting to accept that our time had come. That today was the day that we’d be just like everyone else.

‘You heard me,’ dad’s voice came louder this time. ‘Grab something, Liv. It’ll only take them two minutes to get up here. Hurry.’

I joined mom in the kitchen and stuffed one item after the other into the front pocket of my hoody. Snicker bars, matches, hand sanitizer and just about anything my hand landed on. When my pockets could hold no more, I pulled the long kitchen knife out of the holder and stuck it behind my back.

‘Are we not going to fight?’ I asked through the hiccups of my cries.

‘There’s no fighting to be done,’ mom assured me in a tone that didn’t have the slightest glimmer of hope attached to it.

‘What do you mean there’s no fighting to be done? This is our home. We can’t allow them to stroll through it like they own the place. We can’t
not
fight.’

‘Your mother’s right,’ dad replied firmly. ‘In a few minutes, you’ll want to fight for your home, I get that, but what you also need to understand is that fighting for your home is better than fighting for your life.’

‘Are you kidding me?’ I hissed. ‘You worked for all of this. Hell, I’ve been working my ass off too.  Nothing about allowing it to happen makes sense.’

The frustration in dad’s voice grew, ‘this economy doesn’t make sense, honey, and there’s nothing we can do about it. So I suggest you suck it up and allow them to claim what they want. But don’t allow them to claim your life. You’ve got to be alive in order to survive. Don’t be stupid about it.’

He was right, the economy had taken a turn for the irreparable, but we had
enough
. We could survive until things passed. But giving up our home wouldn’t allow for survival. Giving up our home would mean that we were agreeing to defeat without questioning it.

‘You should know better than anyone,’ the pitch of my voice climbed, ‘you should know that if you want something you fight for it. Isn’t that what you keep telling me- that you stopped at nothing. What was your childhood for, then? Why did you pound all of that bullshit about reaching for the stars in my head? So that you could be a coward when you’re put to the test? Because the dad I knew- the one who turned mere pennies into millions- he wouldn’t just fold under pressure.’

‘This isn’t the time for that,’ mom snapped. ‘Show your father some respect and use your head for once.’

‘Allison,’ dad turned to mom, speaking to her as though I wasn’t in the same room, ‘Liv’s just upset is all.’

‘Of course I’m upset,’ I replied, walking toward the narrow hallway that led to my bedroom. ‘I’m upset because you’re telling me that I should just give up. You’re telling me to forget about everything you taught me and to just succumb to all the bullshit that’s happening in this world.’

My rant was interrupted by pounding on the door. I looked from mom to dad and dad to mom and noticed one thing in both their eyes- they were ready.

‘Just put your hands up and walk out.’ Dad’s head bobbed up and down in agreement with himself.

If they weren’t going to fight for themselves then I’d have to fight for us all. I charged toward my bedroom, slammed the door shut behind me and tuned out dad’s demands. ‘Get out here this minute, Liv,’ he yelled. ‘You’re going to get yourself killed.’

We weren’t put in this world to live forever and though death might have wanted to call my name as I pressed my back against the door- preventing one command or the other to cause me to cave- I knew that on the outside, death was harsher and more likely than anyone wanted to admit. Holding the knife securely in my hands, I slid my fingers down the edge of the blade. Sharp. Sharp enough to cut through meat and sharp enough to cut through human flesh.

A ruckus in the living room, with wailing and pleading was enough to ascertain me that they’d entered.  Footsteps- heavy and determined- approached my bedroom. I made my way to my feet, waiting for the inevitable. I watched as the door handle to my bedroom lowered. The door shuddered when the person on the other side realized it was locked.

‘Somebody’s in this one,’ a harsh voice sent shivers down my spine.

More footsteps- quicker this time- approached my bedroom. I stepped back from the door, knowing that in no time at all, it would be removed from its hinges and I’d be left to face the demons on the other side.

‘You know there’s no hiding from us.’ Way too many cigarettes were likely the reason for the huskiness of the voice that echoed on the other side.

Even through the door, I could smell him. The overpowering and undisguisable scent of cigarettes and booze. The door handle rattled rapidly and the pounding started again. My eyes widened and my hands clasped more firmly around the knife as one corner of the door separated. And then another. I planted my feet on the ground, building up the fight in me. One more shoulder to the door sent a short and stocky man flying through. Immediately, my hand went above my head and forcefully I swung it down in the direction of the figure before me. He glared at me as he curled his fingers around the blade and pulled hard enough to rip the knife from my hands. Shocked, lost for words and without the only weapon I’d managed to grab hold of, my decision to fight proved to be a foolish one. A roar of laughter mocked my attempts to defend my home.

‘She really thought she could take you,’ jeered a tall man who watched the action from behind.

The man, who was now in possession of my knife smiled before extending his tongue and licking the small droplets of blood that had formed in his palm. ‘Seems like the prettier they are the dumber they are.’ Now standing before me, he traced a lone finger along my jawline before gripping a handful of my long, blonde hair.

‘Get out of my house,’ I spat, pushing his hands away from me.

‘Did she say,
her
house?’ laughed the only man whose voice I hadn’t yet heard.

‘Yes, I said
my
house, you bastard. This is
my
house. Just because you attempt to steal something, doesn’t make it yours.’

Again, an effort to take hold of my hair was made. I resisted by stepping further back into my room. ‘I don’t think I like your tone and the last person’s tone I didn’t like,’ he rubbed the back of his hand against his beard, ‘well, let’s just say his tone was his downfall.’

I felt the Goosebumps rise on my skin with every word that slipped from his slithery grin. Giving up would have been the right thing to do, but how could I? ‘I’m not going to allow you to do this.’ My eyes wandered from person to person, trying to determine which one of the three was more likely to show sympathy.

‘I think we should keep her,’ said one of the men to the other.

What did they mean by
keep
me?

Scraggly fingers grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to him. ‘Is that what you want?’ he asked. ‘You want to stay here with us. I could think of a million and one things a girl like you would be good for.’

The look on his face, the tone of his voice and the evil in his eyes made my stomach turn. ‘No,’ I yelled, pulling my hand out of his grasp and kneeing him in the place that hurt the most.