Page 49 of The Liar's Wife

I tried to take a step forward, but pain tore through my body, my nerves on high alert.What happened to me?

I ran my hands along my body, down my thigh, and realized it was just as painful, just as wet with blood, but from a different wound. I hobbled forward, brushing dirt from my eyes and mouth with every painful step. It hurt. It all burned and throbbed and ached. Every part of me. I couldn’t seem to remember anything, my mind a dark, foggy mess of fuzzy memories. What was real and what wasn’t? What had I done? What had led me to an early, yet ultimately ineffective grave?

Who tried to kill me?

The last thing I remembered was…her. I remembered the fight at the house in Red River. I remembered learning the truth about her, about how bad she’d gotten. I remembered confronting her, begging her to let us go. Remembered it all coming together for me at once. I remembered the pain, the shovel coming down on my head. I vaguely remembered another car ride, her singing to Gray as she buried me in the dirt. The shovel piercing my thigh as she broke through the dirt and into my skin.

Pain.

Physical and emotional. All of it. At the thought, lightning-sharp pain shot through me, and I hobbled and cried and gasped for air as my lungs worked to free the mud frommy sticky throat. I bent over, my body rigid with pain and trepidation as I coughed, then winced, coughed then winced. Where was Gray? What had she done? What had I done?

I tasted blood then, and I wondered if it was coming from my head or somewhere else entirely. How else had I been hurt? What had I been through? It was coming back to me slowly, as if I were scraping mud from the memories right along with the rest of my body.

The woods were quiet all around me, but as I made it a bit further, I saw the first sign of light. The moon lit up the night sky above me, giving me glimpses of the forest around me.

The trees were thick, the earth foggy, and my head painful. So, so much pain. I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t move. I should’ve looked over the gravesite closer for an explanation as to how I got there, but I had no way to see it and no desire to go back. Whoever put me there obviously believed I was dead, and I knew who it was.Her.I could see the memories more vividly now. I was sure they were real.

She’d had enough of me getting in her way, she realized I wasn’t going to go along with her insane plan, and she decided to end it. To end me. I was never what she wanted. It was always Gray. The replacement for the baby she’d lost. But she wasn’t going to do away with me so easily. I wasn’t going down without a fight. I would save my son if it was the last thing I did.

I saw the road then, up ahead, and I forced myself forward. Each step was agonizing, each breath like a scalding dagger to the stomach. I stepped down into the ditch and out of the woods, and then back up the embankment and toward the road.I must look like a nightmare; who would ever stop for me?

To my surprise, someone did. The dark truck pulled to a stop next to me, and the man in the driver’s seat leaned over as he rolled the window down, taking in my appearance. He was old, haggard, worn. The truck smelled of cigarettes and chewing tobacco.

“Do you need some help?” he asked. Question of the century. I obviously had a genius on my hands.

“Yes. Please.”

He reached over further, pushing the door open. He wasn’t afraid of me. Even bloody and covered in dirt, I didn’t appear to be a threat. It must be why I went down so easily. But I felt like I’d been reborn, and I wouldn’t be so easy to take down the next time.

I was coming for what was mine. I would take my son back. Go home to my wife. I would fix this somehow. I had to.

I climbed into the truck, the pain of each movement unrelenting. It hurt. It all just…hurt.

He pulled out a cell phone. “Do you want me to call an ambulance? The police?” He swallowed as he stared at me, apparently more afraid now.

“Thank you, but I’ll be okay. Can you just take me home?” I asked. My voice was gravelly and unfamiliar. How long had it been since I used it? How long had it been since she buried me? Since she thought she killed me?

I would be okay, just as soon as I ended this once and for all. I couldn’t do that if the police were involved. I might have to kill her, and I had to accept that.

He nodded, his hands shaking as he moved to put the truck into drive. “What happened to you?”

I didn’t answer him because I didn’t know. Not really. I had no idea what happened to get me to this place. I staredout the window, my body roaring with agony, and all I could think of was how I let myself get here. How I let her ruin my life.

When we reached the street, I told him to drop me off a few houses away from hers. I didn’t want to give her any warning I was coming. It was suspicious, but, truth be told, I think he was glad to be rid of me. He stopped and wished me well, and I climbed from the truck slowly.

I froze when I saw her car.Palmer.

Had she managed to find him? Managed to figure it out?

If Kat hurt either of them, I’d never forgive myself.

I pushed forward, running as fast as my leg would carry me, thick blood dripping down my thigh. When I reached the house, I heard screaming. Palmer’s. Kat’s. Gray was crying. I shoved open the back door and tore open a drawer, grabbing the biggest knife I could find and hurrying up the stairs.

If they weren’t making so much noise, they’d know I was coming. My footsteps were anything but quiet. Every time I stepped on my right side, I fell into the wall.

I shoved open the door and took in the scene. Palmer was on the floor, her stomach stained with blood. A dark-haired Kat stood above her, ready to attack. I didn’t think twice, launching forward with the knife. It connected with her lower back, near her kidneys, and I pushed it through with force. She quivered, freezing, and I jerked it back out. It took much more force to get out than it had going in.

I sucked in a breath, still unable to process what I’d done. Kat sighed, mumbled something, then fell.