Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
This is my wedding day. I’m supposed to be marrying the only man I’ve ever loved. Instead, I’m here, cashing in on a favor owed to me.
Felix turns a little paler than he already was.
“It’s payback time.”
Felix’s mom died while he was a first-year resident under me, the chief resident. He spiraled downhill with alcohol and drugs. I got him help instead of getting him kicked out of the program. I covered his ass on multiple occasions. He knows he owes his career to my grace.
“What do you need? A job? I heard you were out of a job. Is it true that you knew the whereabouts of those girls’ bodies?”
“It’s true.”
“And you think you were one of them in another life?” He gives me an unblinking expression like there’s a right answer to his question.
I’m about to fail the test. “No.” I smile.
Felix relaxes a fraction. Relief washes over his face.
“I was the killer. I was Winston Jeffries.”
He’s well over six feet, but Felix’s back straightening with my answer puts him another inch or so taller. “What’s the favor?” He clears his throat. His words are rushed like I stopped by for a quick cup of sugar that he can quickly give me before sending me on my merry way. Debt fulfilled.
“I need you to kill me.”
Felix’s lips part a fraction while he blinks slowly. Then he chuckles. “What?”
“If it makes you feel better, I also want you to bring me back to life.”
His brow furrows, head inching side to side. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Yes. But I’d like it back. And I’m hoping if that happens, it will be mine and only mine.”
“Josie …” He scratches the back of his smooth head and chuckles again. “I don’t understand. But I think you’ve got the wrong guy for whatever job you need help with. Have you looked into counseling?”
“I didn’t save any counselor’s career. Just yours.”
“So payback for me is life in prison? For what? Why the hell would you want to die again? You realize the stats on resuscitation aren’t exactly in your favor, right?”
“Yes, I know. But here’s the thing, I see dead little girls. I see him—me—poisoning them. Sadly, with the passing of time, these visions or recollections have only gotten worse. To the point that I don’t fully trust myself. Some days I have trouble separating the two lives. If I can’t erase these memories, then I can’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Live.”
He laces his hands behind his neck and bows his head. “Jesus, Josie.”
“I talked to a parapsychologist in California. She’s had a slew of lives. She said my only hope is that I die again, and someone brings me back to life so whatever new near-death experience I have will erase the last one. I have to try.”
Glancing at me, he lets his hands fall from his neck, flopping at his side. “Surely you know there are grave risks.”
“Death. Yes. I’m well aware.”
“If you’re resuscitated, you could be in a coma.”
“I know. I’m going to go over all of this with you.”
A manic laugh bubbles from his chest while he turns and paces the kitchen. “You’ll go over all of this with me. Great. That’s a relief. I feel much better now.”
“Do you want to know where I was a little over an hour ago?”
“Not really. I don’t want to know where you are right now, but I do because you’re standing in my kitchen after having not seen you in years.”
“I was in a wedding dress. Today is my wedding day. Was my wedding day. I cut off the flower girl’s hair in a ponytail, told her to give it to her dad, the groom, and then I left. I left knowing there is an extremely high probability I won’t ever see him or any of my family and friends again.”
Felix stops his pacing and stares at me, maybe to gauge the sincerity of my words. Maybe he’s stopped pacing because my words are shaky, and my eyes are filled with tears.
“This is my only chance,” I whisper, blotting the corners of my eyes. “If I can’t get rid of these memories, I can’t go on living.”
Felix deflates on a deep sigh. “What are you expecting from me?”
Drawing in a shaky breath, I hug my arms to my chest and pad my way to the wall of windows facing his backyard. “I need you to suffocate me.”
“Jesus Christ …”
Ignoring his reaction, I continue. “You will tie me up, so I can’t fight you.”
“No … no. No. No. Do you know what the chances are of saving your life after asphyxiation?”
“Slim, but I drowned, and they brought me back.”
His eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Great. Let me rephrase it then. Do you know what the chances are of me resuscitating you after being asphyxiated for a second time in your fragile little life?”