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Chapter1
The cast-iron skillethit the side of his head with a resounding thwack, and the eggs I’d been cooking flew across the kitchen and landed on the floor. His skull crunched and he shrieked in rage as he recoiled and dropped the knife he was holding.
My heart jumped in my chest and my vision narrowed, adrenaline coursing through my blood.
A scowl of fury swept across his face as he came after me again.
Instinct took over and my body reacted, even as my mind cowered in fear.
I crouched as he leapt toward me and I swung the skillet at his knee. He faltered and howled in pain like a baying animal as he crashed to the floor and rolled over on his back.
He was down, and I knew it was my only chance. I gripped the skillet with both hands and wielded it with all my might.
I bashed in an occipital bone on the left side of his face and blood spurted from his eye socket.
I lifted my hands again, and then fractured his jaw with another blow.
He went limp on the ground, but I didn’t stop.
I hit him again and again, the skillet pulverizing flesh and bone. Deep, gulping breaths signaled his life was at its end.
Eventually, he fell silent.
His caved-in skull oozed brain and blood, staining the linoleum floor of the trailer.
Finally, my fingers loosened, and I dropped the skillet. The heavy thud of cast iron rang in my ears.
I stared down at the carnage. There was a pile of eggs a few feet from me, and cooking oil and blood all over the kitchen cabinets, ornamented by a corpse with brains spilling from the head of a man who had attacked me in the middle of the night.
It was like I’d floated out of my body, and I was witnessing it all from an aerial point of view.
With calm detachment, I stood up and turned off the stove burner. The blue flame disappeared, snuffed out like the life I’d just extinguished.
The scent of egg, cheese, and blood made my stomach lurch, and I leaned over the kitchen sink and vomited, heaving until there was nothing left. I spat out bile and made a move to wipe my mouth, but my hands were covered in blood.
I turned on the faucet and grabbed the bottle of liquid dish soap and squirted it all over my palms and fingers. I used the scrub brush to aggressively wash my skin.
A maniacal giggle escaped my lips.
Lady Macbeth.
I turned off the water and dried my hands on a ragged, faded white dish towel and then walked out the back door of the trailer into the muggy night.
It was just past midnight, and as I passed the other trailers in the park I lived in, I heard country music, a couple fighting, and the blare of TVs. I was grateful for the sounds and wondered if they had aided in concealing what had just transpired.
I made it to Carla’s back door and knocked. When she didn’t answer right away, I knocked again, this time with more force.
The door cracked and then flew open as a pair of blue eyes raked over me. She reached out and grasped my hand, hauling me inside.
It smelled like vanilla incense.
I took a deep breath and then instantly regretted it. Vanilla mixed with the aroma of death in my nose almost had me running for the sink again.
“Oh my God! What the fuck happened to you? Are you okay?” she demanded, her plump red lips parting in shock. Carla ran a hand through her dyed blonde hair and blew out a puff of air. “There’s blood on your face. You gotta tell me what happened so I know what the fuck is going on.”
“Body,” I blurted out. “There’s a dead body in my kitchen. He broke into my… I don’t know who he is, but he was going to… I was cooking eggs and I bashed his head in with a cast-iron skillet.” I looked down at the floor.
She shook her head in disbelief. “Fuck, Sutton.”
