Let Me In by Adam Nicholls (best romantic novels in english txt) 📖

The thought sickened him.

Leaping up the stairs, he clenched his fist and knocked open the doors one by one, peering inside every room to check for her. Each time he didn’t find her, a space inside him hollowed, carving out his insides and replacing them with close, foul air. When he reached the last room—their own bedroom—he steadied his ragged breath and reached out for the knob with a trembling hand. The tight grip he put on it felt like a child’s squeeze under the slippery sweat of his palm.

He turned the knob.

Inch by inch, the door creaked open to reveal a dark room. The dresser revealed itself, then the wardrobe and a corner of the bed. Shoving the door open wider, the rest of the room appeared, showing a smashed lamp, a ruffled duvet, and a bedside table that’d been tossed aside. Signs of a struggle.

All hope fled from him. Morgan stood winded, wounded, and hurt. His imagination delved into the worst scenarios, all entirely possible. All he could think about was Hansen’s previous victims, and if he hurt Rachel like that he’d… he’d…

“It’s clear downstairs,” Gary said, rushing up behind him. He took one look at Morgan’s face and then passed him to glance inside the bedroom. When he saw the mess, he holstered his gun and turned toward Morgan, lowering his voice. “I don’t understand. What—”

The hallway phone rang, shrieking through the house.

Morgan burst into a sprint, glided down the stairs, and snatched up the receiver. He fumbled it, caught it in his sweaty hands, and held it to his equally wet face. He noticed a sudden rise in temperature, like he stood among flames. “This is Morgan.”

“Just who I was hoping for.” The voice was thin and weak. Dangerous.

“Who is this?”

“You know exactly who this is,” the man said.

Morgan didn’t have to guess twice. “What do you want?”

Nick Hansen chuckled. It was an awful sound, like Velcro being peeled open little by little. “You know, for a while there I was a little impressed by how resourceful you were. One step ahead of the cops, but still one step behind me. I watched you sometimes, and I kept wondering who you were. Imagine my surprise when I passed you at the HUCINS Center.”

Morgan’s hand was shaking now. Every word this man spoke drove daggers under his skin—hot, merciless daggers. “I don’t care about your opinion. Cut the crap and tell me where Rachel is.”

That laugh again. “You’ll know soon enough. All you have to do is come to me.”

“And where is that?”

“Mosaic Church. I’ve run the distance, and it should take you less than twenty minutes. So here’s the deal: if you make it here within that time—and only if you’re alone—I’ll let your wife go. If you disobey my instruction, I’ll make a mess of her face. Am I clear?”

Morgan squeezed the receiver, his teeth grinding as he spoke. “Crystal.”

“Good. Then we understand each other.”

“Not exactly. I have a question.” Morgan’s breath became hot and strong, huffing like a dragon ready to explode a blast of fiery wrath. He heard footsteps and craned his neck to see Gary stepping down the stairs. This time he wouldn’t be able to help. “Why do this? What’s in it for you? I was just doing my job.”

Nick paused. It was like he was uncertain—as if he had barrels of pent-up rage and needed to direct it toward anyone, regardless of whom. “You led the cops right to my doorstep, Mr. Young. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be having my fun. If it weren’t for you, my mother wouldn’t have been caught in the crossfire.”

If it weren’t for him, Emma Cole would be dead or mutilated. Morgan opted not to speak the words. When his wife’s safety was in the hands of some lunatic, he thought it best not to provoke. “You’re the one who shot your mother. Nobody else.”

Once more, Nick paused. This time, his words felt like venom. “Twenty minutes.”

The line went dead.