Lethal Confessions Read Free Page B

What the hell was he talking about? Her life was shit. It had always been shit. “I…I don’t know what you mean.”
    “If you want water, then open your mouth,” he said. He put his left hand into his pocket.
    Carrie licked her parched lips and parted them a fraction of an inch, waiting for him to place the bottle against them.
    “Open your mouth wide, goddamn it!”
    His shout made her jerk her head and instinctively clamp her jaw shut.
    Poole grabbed her jaw with his fingers and brutally pried her mouth open. His fingers were thick and hard and she tried to bite down but he’d jammed something in between her teeth. It felt huge and hard and round, and tasted like rubber—dirty rubber. She gagged and tried to spit the disgusting lump out, but his strong fingers held it in place easily. She tried to scream, but the shrieks died in her throat.
    Her heart pounded so hard it made her sick. All she could do was jerk uselessly and stare in horror as he grabbed the Dasani and tipped it upside down over her mouth. A cascade of water poured around the lump—which had to be some kind of ball—washing over her palate and sluicing uncontrolled into her throat and airway.
    Her body convulsed as she choked. She gagged over and over, her lungs on fire. Water poured down her cheeks, her chin, everywhere. Her mind screamed in agony.
    He’s drowning me!
    Suddenly, the water stopped, and Poole yanked the ball out. Carrie turned her head to the side and spat and gasped for air, thrashing her arms and legs in spite of the cruel bite of the rough leather.
    Poole quickly unbuckled the collar and lifted up her head. Just a few inches off the bed, but it was enough. She spat and coughed and sucked in gasps of air for what seemed like an eternity before finally letting her head collapse back onto the mattress. Exhausted, her entire body burned with pain.
    After a few seconds, Carrie blinked, cleared her eyes, and stared into his bland features. Her teeth started to chatter as it sank in. Poole didn’t just mean to kill her. God help her, but he was going to torture her first.
    But why? Was he punishing her for cheating on Matt? Why the hell would he even care?
    Her throat ached, but she had to speak. “Listen,” she croaked, “if you really knew Matt, you’d know he wouldn’t want you to do this to me.”
    He nodded as he buckled her collar back up. “You’re probably right, whore. But, then again, he doesn’t know what’s good for him, does he? Otherwise, he sure as hell wouldn’t have married a life-sucking bitch like you.”
    She sobbed. He had it so wrong. “Please don’t kill me. You say you care about Matt, but killing me will destroy him.”
    Poole shook his head dismissively. “No, it won’t. He’ll get over it a lot quicker than you think, and then he’ll be damn glad. Look at him now, for Christ’s sake! He’s a total mess, thanks to you. But that’s going to change. By the end of the season, he’ll be a new man. So, you’re right, I’m going to kill you tonight. The only remaining question is how.” He stuck the tip of his index finger against her forehead, his lips stretching into a horrible, flat smile. “And that’s up to you, Carrie. We have some options, and you get to make the call.”
    Carrie’s brain collapsed in on itself, spinning into a bottomless well of fear. But her body sucked in a gasp and her arms pulled hard on the straps, her torso rigid with a desperate surge of strength. Then she screamed again. Screamed to the uncaring world outside her chamber of death.
    Hear me! God, somebody—please hear me!
“What do you want me to do?” she shrieked. “What do you want me to say?”
    “We need to talk about your husband,” he said, turning his back to her.
    “I know you think I’m a bitch,” she sputtered. “But I do love Matt. Things haven’t been perfect, but...” She let the words trail off.
    Poole grasped the metal case from the top of the dresser, then faced her again. When